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heesdreamer · 1 year

Text

SUNSHINE

PAIRING ➩ basketball player heeseung x cheerleader reader

WARNINGS ➩ um its super rough smut lol

WC ➩ 5k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ i hate both short works and straight smut but i guess that vlog got to me so here you go NOT PROOFREAD also i don’t like writing the boys completely out of character and i do not think hs would say or do half of these things lol but for the sake of the story

“You might just be the least positive cheerleader of all time.”

You were turning your head to the side to glare at the voice suddenly appearing from your left, sighing and rolling your eyes when you spotted who it was and going back to your position with your arms crossed on the side of the court as the game continued on.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to be all smiley and ‘go team’?” Heeseung was continuing on even though you were clearly ignoring him, something you did every time he attempted to bug you during the games and rile you up enough to get a reaction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the court and not sat next to me on the bench?” You were snapping back at him and you quickly glanced at him before looking away when you saw the familiar smirk creeping up on his face.

Heeseung was definitely not a bench warmer, far from it considering he was practically the star of your schools basketball team and he knew you were aware of this. That still didn’t stop him from occasionally allowing the coach to switch him out so he could come and sit near the cheerleaders, seemingly finding a lot of mid game entertainment in you and your cold reactions.

You’d gone to school with him for most of your life but you never really noticed him until high school started and you joined the cheerleading team under the pressuring words of your mom.

She’d been one when she was your age and she claimed it to be the sole reason she loved high school, the place where she met all of her friends and eventually your father when he transferred their junior year. You’d pretty much expected to be forced into it since you were a child and now on your fourth and final year, you were more so just going through the motions.

Your stoic, and borderline aggressive, personality mixed with the image of you in a small glittery skirt and your hair sporting a giant obnoxious bow in your schools representative colors, seemed to catch the attention of the star player and he hadn’t left you alone since.

“When would I get to talk to you if I wasn’t on the bench?” He was leaning sideways towards you and you frowned softly, trying to ignore him and the stupid smirk sticking to his face now. “It’s not like you stop for me in the hallways.”

“Have you tried taking a hint?” You were once again harshly spitting the words at him and you felt a bit frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep your composure like normal, already stressed from an intense workload and the building pressure of graduation as it approached. “Why can’t you go bother your fan club, I’m sure they’d be more than willing.”

Heeseung definitely didn’t have the same concerns as you and you didn’t necessarily blame him. It isn’t his fault he was immediately offered full ride sport scholarships to multiple different schools and as much as you hated to admit it, he worked hard for his success and he deserved it.

That fact still didn’t make it any less annoying that he was constantly bugging you with his quick comments about your attitude or his countless attempts to flirt with you, asking for your number or sending you Valentine’s Day singing grams every year since you’d met, even though you’d stormed into the cafeteria freshman year and dumped his soda on his head for humiliating you.

He hadn’t gotten upset and started to dislike you like you had hoped for, instead he smiled and moved his wet hair out of his face before asking if you liked the flowers he’d left at your locker.

“Why would I do that? You know you’re my favorite, sunshine.” His tone was lower now and the nickname fell from his lips casually, routine by now considering how much he said it despite the fact you told him to knock it off every single time he used it.

You were sparing him once last glare before turning back towards the game and ignoring the fact he was a lot closer to you now, one small sideways scoot away from being off the bench and on the same bleacher seat you were on.

He was persistent to a point that you could almost admire and you’d never be foolish enough to deny that he was almost stupidly attractive but that didn’t change anything for you. You had too many differences for you to be truly interested and it didn’t help that he smelt like sweat almost every single time you saw him.

Plus, you weren’t lying about his fan club and you already had to deal with numerous sharp glares and mean whispers throughout the years and that was without you reciprocating the interest.

You’d long associated the boy with negative things so it was pretty common for you to greet his smiley face with an eye roll or a straight up sneer, trying your hardest to ignore him but typically falling into a small session of half bickering half flirting before he was giving up again and leaving you to sit and seethe. You couldn’t even escape him at home either, something you were especially aware of right now.

It was two hours into trying to get some homework done and your patience was wearing thin the longer the sound of the basketball outside continued on.

You just so happened to be in the universes shit list and you lived directly across from a park in the neighborhood. You’d been excited when you first moved in, being able to play constantly when you were younger and eventually developing it into a nice place to sit and relax after school. You would have solo picnics under one of the big trees or just go and listen to music laying in the grass.

That is until Lee Heeseung also moved into the neighborhood, starting off your sophomore year with a big obnoxious moving truck on the other side of the park and what followed nearly drove you insane.

He was outside nearly every single day after school and practice, no matter if it was cold or hot, rain or snow. What once had been a calming spot for you to unwind was quickly overtaken by the sound of rubber against cement and you stopped going the day he started.

Sometimes he’d wave at you from the court, catching sight of you glaring down at him from your open bedroom window, but he never made any attempts to talk to you or invite you to join him unlike he did in school and neither of you ever mentioned the fact you were neighbors during your little moments of heated conversation. You learned to ignore him over time but you were particularly stressed recently and before you knew it you were letting out an annoyed yell before marching out of your room.

You’d barely processed the fact you were moving as you tugged a hoodie over your head and slipped on your boots, heading out the door and slamming it as you passed through.

Some of your fire had disappeared by the time you were actually pushing out into the cold night air and crossing the empty street, your steps becoming more hesitant as you entered the park and approached the basketball court, realizing you were going to have to actually speak to him. He didn’t look over as you got closer and your frown appeared again at the sweat gleaming from his skin, his neck red and agitated like he was pushing himself past his limit.

“Do you ever go home?” You were asking before you had decided it was a good idea and you were almost as surprised as he was to hear your voice, jumping slightly at the same time he did as he whipped around to look at you.

He looked confused for a second when he saw you standing there on the court with your hands stuffed in your pockets but when he seemingly processed it was you, he was breaking into a small smile.

You watched him as he continued to pant and try and catch his breath to be able to respond to you, sighing in the meantime and taking a few step backwards so you could sit on one of the benches and stare up at him in the middle of the court.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your pretty little skirt, sunshine.” His response was eventually coming and it immediately pulled an eye roll from you despite the fact your stomach flipped as he took a few steps in your direction, tucking his basketball under his arm routinely and watching you with amusement and interest.

“Yeah well…” You couldn’t think of a good comeback as he continued to get closer and you inwardly blamed it on the cold.

“Did you come to cheer me on?” He was asking in a soft voice but it had a mocking hint to it, not necessarily mean but potentially bitter and you stared up at him as his eyebrow cocked. “My own personal cheerleader?”

You were trying to get a good read on his expression but it wasn’t making any sense to you, his face lacking it’s usual lightheartedness and almost looking conflicted as he watched you and seemingly waited for you to finally think of a witty response. You didn’t have one, thrown off by both his strange demeanor and having a conversation in an unfamiliar place and you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed at your sudden loss for words.

He wasn’t saying anything further and you would’ve sighed in relief if it wasn’t for the fact he was watching you so intensely, eventually sitting beside you on the bench and you tensed up when you felt his thigh pressing against yours.

“You didn’t have to stop playing.” You were eventually muttering and you would’ve been more self conscious about your out of character behavior if he wasn’t already being so strange.

“Yeah I did.” He was sighing and you turned your head to look at him, being met with his side profile as he stared straight ahead towards the court and ignored the fact you were staring at him. “You’re a distraction.”

A laugh was bursting from your lips accidentally, almost a scoff and you cut it off short by covering your mouth and giggling out an apology when he shot you a sideways glare. You were shaking your head and trying to gather yourself before clearing your throat softly. “You see me every time you play, never been a distraction then.”

“Are you kidding me?” Now it was his turn to laugh but it was a lot more dry than yours and almost sarcastic sounding, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually said that. “You don’t think seeing you in that outfit every game is a distraction?”

He was finally looking at you now and your face flushed at how close that made you, nearly touching noses if either of you leaned forward slightly but you stayed perfectly still and scanned over his face as you tried to take in his words. You would’ve thought he was joking around and doing his usual rounds of mindless flirting but his tone was flat and his face remained serious, even as you watched him curiously.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond and your words felt caught in your dry throat, letting down your guard for just a second too long and being struck with nerves.

“A good distraction?” You were eventually pushing out and your voice lifted in a curious tilt, his serious face breaking into a small smile again at the sound of your soft question and hesitant tone, two things he rarely heard from you.

“Yeah sunshine, it’s good.”

——

You spent the next two days avoiding Heeseung as much as you can, having ended the night in some more whispered small talk before he was resuming practice and you were eventually slipping off back to your house once the cold became too much for your hands and nose.

It was weirdly nice to watch him play in a place where he wasn’t obviously trying to show off and under the pressures of competition, watching the skillful way he moved and the sweat that continued to reflect off his deep tanned skin despite the bitter cold touching on yours.

You still felt awkward for having interrupted him and it didn’t help that you had finally played into his flirting for once, mistakenly letting your guard down once you saw him in a more neutral environment and you felt extremely embarrassed about the whole entire encounter. You were telling yourself it had nothing to do with the fact he made your face flush every time he leaned closer or the way your stomach flipped as he talked about your skirt distracting him.

Sadly, you couldn’t stay away from him for long considering a school year quarter pep rally was approaching and everybody involved needed to come to the gymnasium to practice together, including both the cheerleaders and the basketball team.

You frequented the gym a lot more regularly than other students and were pretty used to being in front of a crowd or performing routines to all of your peers but you could tell some of the clubs who would be involved were feeling nervous, striking up conversation with one of the boys from the dance club to try and ease his nerves.

The conversation was entirely friendly and even a little bit awkward considering you barely knew him and he was a lot younger than you but little did you know, Heeseung was watching you from across the gym and making his own assumptions about the interaction.

You completely missed the way his jaw was clenching as he watched the two of you laugh, you instinctively leaning forward and touching the boys arm as a comforting gesture and giving further reason for the hard glare being sent your way from the other side of the room. It didn’t help that you hadn’t been speaking to him and had went right back to actively avoiding him, he’d been overthinking it and looking forward to talking to you about his worries today since you had to be in close proximity.

So it was driving him crazy that you still hadn’t approached him and even worse, you were too caught up in a conversation with some kid he didn’t bother to place a name to.

Eventually the first round of practice was going to start soon and Heeseung watched as your coach said something to you briefly, stared as you nodded in acceptance and then wandered off to go and gather whatever it was that she had asked for.

He was following behind you without even thinking about it, completely ignoring the calls from his teammates asking where he was going and urging him to hurry up before the run through started. You were heading back towards the storage lockers where there was plenty of extra balls and uniforms, anything that might be needed during a game or an event.

You were barely thinking about the basketball player during this whole time, too distracted with the busyness of the day, but he immediately came to mind when you felt something pressing up against you from behind after entering the storage room that was tucked behind the large indoor bleachers.

“What are you doing?” You were grumbling out to him in your usual annoyed tone even though your stomach was flipping at the fact he was actually touching you for once, something he rarely did despite his constant advances.

He wasn’t fully pressed against you but just enough so that you could feel his clothing near yours, you could sense his large frame looming over you and practically caging you in near the wall you’d been passing when he arrived. You shifted slightly so you could turn your head to look over your shoulder and glare up at him when he didn’t respond.

“Who’s the kid?” He was responding and his voice was lower than usual, lacking it’s typical lightness and humor that came along whenever he felt like teasing you.

“Don’t be jealous of a freshman, it’s not a good look on you.” You were shaking your head and sighing, turning back to look at the shelf and try your best to ignore him despite your alarming awareness to how close the two of you were.

It was only increasing when his hand was finally touching you, snaking forward and resting against your hip in a way that caused your breath to catch in your throat, making you lose your nonchalant demeanor for just a split second before you were attempting to compose yourself again. He was just holding onto your hip, his hand large enough that his fingertips were pressing into your stomach.

You didn’t say anything as he touched you and you still didn’t when he was tugging you backwards softly, pulling your bottom half against his instead of fully pressing against you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a second at the feeling of him but you didn’t want him to see the obvious effect he had over you.

You were wearing a hoodie over your cheerleading uniform and half of his hand was underneath it so he could feel the hem of your skirt properly, bunching up the thick fabric around his arm slightly. He’d only pulled your lower half backwards so you were partially bent over now, barely enough to be noticiable but the implication made your cheeks burn.

“Why would I be jealous?” He was finally asking and his voice didn’t cut the tension at all, if anything worsening it. “Wasn’t him you were thinking about when you put this on.”

A scoff was falling from your lips at his sudden claim, despite how true it was considering you’d stared in the mirror particularly long this morning thinking about Heeseung calling you a distraction. Your careless attitude wasn’t holding too strong especially since he was squeezing your hip bone softly, your body instinctively pushing back further against him and causing your breath to stutter.

You felt slightly dizzy from the feeling of him against you so intimately, mixed with the fact that he had obviously been jealous over something as simple as you having a conversation. It should’ve annoyed you like it normally did but your heart raced slightly instead and you placed your hands against the wall subconsciously.

He took that as a cue to bend you over more, bringing his other hand up to your empty hip and using both of them to tug you fully backwards by the waist so you were flushed against him.

“Why are you wearing this?” He was suddenly asking and you were confused for a second before you felt him tugging on your large hoodie, childish annoyance in his tone at the fact most of your uniform was covered up.

You laughed softly at his whining, your voice embarrassingly affected and breathless. “Didn’t want to be a distraction.”

“That’s bullshit, you like knowing I’m watching you.” He was mumbling again now and it almost sounded like he was talking to himself, not really caring if you heard him. He was taking another step forward now and you could feel him more now, your head falling forward at the realization he was hard against you. “You’d let me take you right here, wouldn’t you?”

You considered not answering for a second and lowering his ego but he was slightly shifting backwards and releasing the pressure and a wave of panic ran through you.

“Yes yes I would.” You were rushing out and moving backwards to try and feel him again, ignoring the soft chuckle he gave and the way he squeezed your desperate hips in amusement. “You know I would.”

“Always so mean to me sunshine.” His voice was mocking again like it was the other night at the park and you were slightly thrown off by his change of demeanor, not expecting the roughness from the boy who was always big smiles and loud laughter everytime you’d seen him. He was bordering mean at times with his rough touches and provoking voice but you didn’t mind it at all, knowing you’d be dripping down your thighs if you were less clothed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for being mean Hee.” Your voice was high and whiny but you were too turned on to be embarrassed, knowing how pathetic you must look.

“Show me how sorry you are.” He was instructing and you paused for a second, not exactly sure what he meant until he was lessening his hold on your hips. “Fuck yourself against me.”

Your breath was catching in your throat again and you let out a soft whine, one of your hands on the wall sliding down it slightly as you almost lost your balance.

He wasn’t exactly radiating patience and you were beyond desperate so you wasted no time in giving him what he wanted, pushing yourself back against him harder and crying out when you felt that he wanted it as much as you did, almost painfully hard now. His hips instinctively moved forward to meet yours but he immediately froze and stopped, letting you do all the work as you continued to roll your hips against him and try to get some sort of relief.

It wasn’t nearly enough for you, barely enough pressure for you to feel him and imagine how deep he would feel inside you but not enough to actually help you out in your building desperation, overwhelmed with longing for him as your hand fell off the wall and reach back to grab into his wrist.

“Please, I need you to touch me please.” You were begging him and a soft cry sunk into your voice, your head spinning with how bad you wanted to feel him anywhere.

“Fuck look at you.” He was grunting out before caving into your request, pulling you up softly and walking forward so now your entire body was pressed against the wall.

The cement was cold on your cheek and it would’ve been too uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the immediate distraction he was providing, his large hand slipping under your hoodie and aggressively groping your chest. His knuckles must’ve been rubbing against the wall but he didn’t show any signs of caring about the pain, twisting your hard nipple in his fingers and humping himself against you.

Your head was falling backwards to land on his shoulder, panting and letting out streams of high pitched whines as he roughly played with your mounds and thrusted against your skirt covered core.

He was using his free hand to reach over and grip your chin, holding it tightly between his fingers and turning your face so he could sloppily kiss you from where you laid on his shoulder. You were happily humming into his mouth despite the amateurish way you were moving against each other, more combined teeth and swapped spit than an actual kiss.

You could feel it dripping down your chin as he licked into your mouth, completely filthy and dirtier than you ever imagined him being. It was driving you absolutely insane and you’d completely forgotten about where you were or the fact people were expecting you back, the door not locked and accesible to anyone who came looking for you.

“Want you inside me Hee, please.” You were crying out into the kiss and he was only pulling back enough so you could speak, watching you with hooded eyes and parted lips and he tried to catch his breath and process what you were begging for. “I need you so bad, I can’t breathe.”

“Want me to fuck you sunshine?” His mocking tone was back and he squeezed your chest aggressively to emphasize his words, rutting against you in a sharp thrust that sent you harder into the wall again. He ignored your shocked cry and did it again before laying another wet kiss against your mouth. “Tell me baby, go on and beg for me.”

“I’ll do anything please, anything.” You were nearly sobbing now as you desperately tried to appeal to him, rocking yourself backwards into his hard cock to try and get him riled up enough to snap. “Need your cock in me so bad, do anything.”

Your words were slurred and mainly gibberish by now but it seemed to be enough for him, he cursed under his breath as he watched you desperately beg for him and you barely had time to process the fact he was moving before he was tugging down his basketball shorts and pressing your face against the wall again.

You moaned sharply into the cold cement and you were grateful it muffled it slightly considering you only got louder once he was roughly pulling up your skirt, ripping down your panties in one go and not bothering to warn or prep you before he was pressing the head of his hard cock against your entrance.

“Next time I’ll take my time with you, make you fall apart for me slow.” He was muttering in your ear as he lined himself up, pressing forward slightly and covering your mouth with his head when you let out a loud cry. “Can’t wait anymore though, gonna fuck you like the slut you are.”

You were nodding enthusiastically at his demeaning words, the more coherent part of you fluttering with butterflies at the fact he was already thinking about a next time that wasn’t so rushed. You had no issue with him simply fucking you now, feeling like you’d die if he spent another second teasing you or building up to it.

He was finally pushing himself fully inside you and your legs would’ve gave out if it wasn’t for his arm that was snaking around your stomach and his heavy weight pressing you against the wall, practically suffocating you as you lost your breath from the feeling of his complete length inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He was hissing out between gritted teeth and you instinctively clenched around him at the comment, satisfaction rolling through you when he groaned at the feeling. “No idea how long I thought about this.”

“Then show me.” You were snapping out, immediately hearing him laugh as your usual attitude resurfaced for a second, quickly growing impatient the longer he stayed still inside of you.

You were quickly taking back any anger you had when he was pulling out of you, almost all the way, before slamming his entire length back in. You could feel him so deep that you almost couldn’t catch a breath, bucking forward and your mouth parting in a silent cry that was immediately interrupted when he started to fuck into you at a fast pace.

He gave you no time to adjust to his thick size and you were grateful for it, the rough burn of him stretching you being exactly what you needed after years of bickering and teasing with him. It was beyond what you could’ve imagined, all that tension finally bursting into relief as he fucked you so rough you’d surely be coated in bruised by the time the pep rally actually rolled around.

You’d gone completely dumb and you knew he had too, holding his composure just enough to continue his aggressive thrust but losing all ability to tease you or make more comments towards your behavior.

He was holding you tightly against him and you almost wished you were somewhere more private so you could see him undressed, suddenly overcome with the need to feel his skin against yours and be completely covered in his warmth. You tried to ignore the unusually soft thought towards him and focus on how good he was making you feel, the familiar tight coil building in your stomach as he continued to fuck into you deep and rough.

“Please please.” You were begging again but you weren’t even sure what for at this point, your mouth just moving on instinctively so he didn’t stop under any circumstances.

“I know baby I know.” His voice was more gentle than it had been before but still just as tight and overwhelmed, definitely reaching the end rapidly himself like you were and trying his hardest to prolong it considering how good you felt as you kept getting tighter and tighter around him. “Squeezing my cock so good sunshine, you’re so perfect for me.”

“For you, just for you.” You were quickly responding to the casual possessiveness he had showed and this seemed to affect him more than anything, his hips faltering for a second in their assault before he was fucking into you even harder than you thought was possible. He clearly liked hearing you claim yourself as his own and you felt overwhelming dizzy at the realization.

It was a complete blur now as he fucked into you, coming undone faster than you ever had before and blacking out for a few seconds from the pleasure of him doing the same inside of you. You were too out of your head to care about the fact he had came inside of you and you didn’t even think about it.

You were immediately worried it would be awkward once you were coming back to your senses but then you processed the fact that Heeseung was placing soft kisses against your neck, turning you around gently so you were finally facing him and you felt a bit emotional from how kind he was being now after he’d just taken you so aggressively.

You were definitely in some sort of dropped space after the intensity you’d just been through because you were kissing him suddenly, happy you’d had him in that way but now feeling like you’d missed out on seeing him from this point of view.

He was grateful accepting the kiss and tugging you forward by your lower back, the same place he’d been holding but very different context now as he softly moved his mouth against yours and brushed your hair out of your face.

“Are you going to let me take you on a date now?” He was asking into the kiss and you pulled back to laugh softly, laying your head down on his shoulder and feeling the way they lifted as he chuckled at your reaction.

“Yeah hotshot… I’m sure we can work that out.”

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justadeadreaper · 2 months

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okay so I'm curious- puptrapping you say? That you'd need another post to go into? I'd like to encourage this please

Puptrapping?

You want to hear about puptrapping, you say?

Anon, your wish is my command.

Just so you know, this is like you encouraging a crack addict by finding them a new dealer. I am not joking because this is my obsession at this point, but I do encourage you to send in more asks about Omega!Makarov or ideas you want me to write about because I will. I never originally thought of puptrapping; instead, it was my dear friend @frogchiro who said that she thought he would based on a comment I made about him tying you down to make sure you cum in him. Also, do thank @frogchiro because she helped me form these ideas in our late-night rants, and she is my biggest encourager.

Now that I have written this, I am tempted to write about Omega!Makarov with pups or a fic based on this idea if anyone wants it.

Obvious warnings for puptrapping (omegaverse version of babytrapping) and all the shit that goes with it, Omega!Makarov spiking your drink with an omegaverse version of Viagra (that sounds so fucking weird), but also a big misunderstanding between Omega!Makarov and reader.

This whole idea is based on it being a misunderstanding. Omega!Makarov is a feared man; no one even knows he is an omega; you were only allowed that grace of knowledge due to being his alpha -specifically chosen for being the most desired for your size and strength-. Knowing how secretive he was about his second gender, you presumed that he would never want pups as it would reveal his identity to the world, and he could not have that, could he? Hell, you did not even think he loved you; he only used you to satisfy his natural instincts that come with being an omega so that he would not be on a constant edge from having his subconscious desires not be fulfilled. You enforced the rule around using some form of protection as you did not want to force or pressure him into having pups that he would never want in a million years.

But oh, you poor, dumb alpha. How wrong could you be?

Omega!Makarov is infatuated with you. As soon as he saw you, he knew that you had to be his; no one else would be able to satisfy him after he saw you. Yes, he may be a cruel, heartless man but he loves you in his own special way and let me tell you he loves you with all his heart! He genuinely does! Now, being that he loves you so much, it is only natural that he wants your pups; it is only made worse by him being an omega and having the natural instincts to breed and have pups that poor omegas like him have. He knew he wanted pups from a young age, even if he knew that he did not love like a normal person does. Another part of him wanting to have pups is his own relationship with his father. A narcissistic, bullheaded alpha that abused Makarov and his poor brother for being omegas, Makarov had to watch as his poor mother was abused for not giving that asshole the alpha sons he desperately wanted. His father was never nice to him; he was a horrid father who chickened out at the last minute instead of suffering the consequences of his actions. Makarov does not want to be like that; he instead wants to be the best father he can be and have as many pups as he can to shove it to the old man who damaged him so much, to embrace the one thing his father abused him for and always forced him to hide.

So, for you to say that you need to use birth control? That is the biggest insult to him! Do you not love him? Do you not think he is a good enough omega to have your pups? Are you just using him to get yourself off? Are you planning on just dropping him off one day? Why do you not feel like him? He wants your pups so badly, why do you not want to give them to him?

He damn near hissed at you for suggesting such a thing, but he decided to hold his tongue as he knows he will get his way, he always has.

Now it just. depends on what type of birth control you force him to use for what he does to still be able to have your pups.

Condoms? Expect every single one to have multiple puncture holes from the set of pins that used to belong to his mother. Small enough for you not to notice but just big enough to allow enough cum to come through to give him a nice litter of pups. But that is only if you are stupid enough to allow him to be the only one to supply the condoms or allow him to be around the box by himself for longer than two minutes. If you buy them and never let him near them, you can be sure that those things will rip because, for some reason, your knot was a lot bigger than it normally is causing the condom to rip.

Birth control? He is lying about being on it. The prescription he showed you was a fake he forced a poor pharmacist to make as the pills inside that he showed you were nothing more than sugar pills mixed with the omegaverse version of Viagra known as an Amplifa that helps people knot while also increasing their fertility that he forced the drug dealers he hires to make. Each day, he will take them in front of you, knowing that they do not work. But if you are the one to supply the pills, then he is finding any pill or herb known to man to counteract it so that the birth control fails.

The Amplifa he uses to spike your drink and his own have a few side effects. I imagine omegas to have a reverse knot to match an alpha’s knot, which means they are doubly bonded. How it works is by inflating the sides of the passage like how, for an alpha, the base inflates to lock inside; it is to make sure that the alpha is being milked of all their cum and that the omega is too tight for the alpha to pull out. Since both he and you have been spiked with it, it causes your knot to inflate beyond the point of it being pulled out while he is too tight that it hurts to try and pull out. It also makes the knots last for hours upon hours instead of the normal half an hour to an hour, as it makes you cum so much. Not to mention it makes you incredibly more horny so you could fuck for longer.

With everything prepared, he has sex with you.

Once you are close to cumming he leg locks you making sure you can not push him off as you cum. Your knot inflating inside him as he milks you dry, all while he is still moving his hips in a specific motion to cause more friction that stimulates you and makes you hard yet again. Wiggling his hips and whining as you have yet another orgasm while the two of you are stuck together as his reverse knot will just not let go. Watching as his tummy begins to form a bump already as it grows from how much cum you have stuffed inside of it with every orgasm. He puts on the “I’m innocent, I swear!” act; he uses all the manipulation tactics he knows, the fake tears, the lies, the everything. He is just a simple omega who was trying to enjoy sex with his alpha; he has no idea what is going on. Whining over how worried he is since with this much cum he is most definitely already pregnant, even if you were being safe. All of this while he continues to move his hips as you cum once more.

And as soon as you are asleep from exhaustion and overstimulation he is gently caressing his stomach as he purrs. He can already imagine the litter of pups he will be having in a few months and how much of a happy family you all will be...

#tw: babytrapping #tw: puptrappping #omegaverse cod #omega!makarov #omegaverse #alpha!reader #makarov x reader #call of duty #cod #vladimir makarov #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #tw: tampered protection #tw: tampered birth control #tw: drink spiking #tw: drugging

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lesbianpepsi · 11 months

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'Cause I love, to love, to love you

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!reader

Summary: Ever since Wednesday had been gifted a phone you decided to steal her phone to play a prank on her. But much to your surprise you see something unexpected on her phone.

Warnings: bad writing, some swearing

Words: 1.833k

A/N: i wrote this on my phone since my laptop is having a mental breakdown on me rn. not proof read since it's 3am and it's exam season lmao. sorryyy. also this is my first 'fic' post here. hope this isn't too bad lmao, enjoy:)

One of your absolute favourite hobbies, if it even counts as a hobby, is to "borrow" someone's phone for a few minutes and do something to the phone.

Whether it be quickly change their ringtone to something embarrassing, take a ungodly amount of selfies in thirty seconds, or even send yourself a message complimenting yourself or agreeing to do something stupid.

You always found an annoying trick to play. But you always had one that was your absolute favourite. A classic, some might say.

"Borrowing" someone's phone and changing their wallpaper to something incredibly stupid.

If you were lucky the persons phone would already have unattractive selfies they took as a joke, or a friend would send them one of themself that would automatically save to the phone.

You've done that over a thousand times to all of your friends and family members, and to you it never gets old.

Enid has always been the easiest victim because, one, her passcode is literally '2929', two, Enid always has a grip on her phone but in your or hers dorm room that grip instantly weakens and she always leaves her phone around the place.

The hardest victim to play this prank on is your girlfriend, Wednesday Addams.

Although the goth is not often using her actual device, she always makes sure to keep it close to her person.

The rare times you've managed to snag it while she's in the bathroom or during her writing time, if she isn't looking, for the life of you, you cannot guess her passcode.

Hers has to be much more complex than Enid's simple four digit passcode, since you've tried everything you could've thought of as a six digit passcode, yet to no avail.

You've tried birthdays, important dates to Wednesday, her favourite numbers, secret messages using numbers.

Nothing works.

You've been patiently waiting for the day to finally play the harmless prank on your girlfriend for weeks, and on a quiet Saturday night, it finally happened.

_____________________________________

Saturday had always been your favourite day, who doesn't think Saturday as the best day?

You especially loved Saturdays since the fact the following day follows is Sunday, a day with also no school. Which meant Wednesday was allowed to come over to your dorm room and stay over for the night.

The school had a rule where sleepovers weren't permitted unless it was on the weekend, something that annoyed you greatly, but it was better than nothing.

This particular Saturday you and Wednesday decided to have a simple day. Both of you wanted to have more of a relaxing day rather than one full of plans for once.

It was ten in the evening and you and Wednesday had just finished the first episode of Criminal Minds, a show that took you a while of begging to get Wednesday to actually agree to watch with you.

With a smile you turned your head to look at her, her head already turned to look at you.

"So, what did you think?" You asked eagerly, hoping the goth actually enjoyed one of your favourite shows.

She gave a blank expression as she answered the question. "It was tolerable at best." You grinned at the response; pride filling in you since in Wednesday language that meant she actually liked it.

"I knew you'd like it!" You had the urge to add 'I told you so' but you opted to leave that out. "Whose your favourite character?"

Wednesday's raises her brows slightly at that. "A favourite character? I've only seen a singular episode and don't have a good enough concept of each character's personality to answer that question." She replied in a monotone voice as she glanced back at the screen before back at you.

You stared at her in silence for a moment before a slight smirk replaced the grin on your face.

"It's Hotch isn't it?" Wednesday gives you an annoyed stare as she crosses her arms over stomach. "Just because you've watched this show a myriad of times doesn't make you a profiler." She grumbled, confirming the answer to your question.

You chuckled as you teasingly nudged your shoulder with hers. "I know. I just know my girlfriend so well."

The corners of Wednesday's lips quirked up for a moment before they returned to their normal straight line. "Don't get too cocky, Y/n."

You chuckle once again as you moved your hand to holds Wednesday's, knowing the simple display of affection was one she didn't mind much.

Your smile only grew when Wednesday didn't hesitate to interlock your hands.

"I wouldn't dream of it. But I do know when we watch season two you will definitely love Emily but say otherwise."

Wednesday let out a scoff at your words. "I only remember agreeing to watch one episode of this show, not an entire season."

You shrugged your shoulders before saying. "Fine, I guess I'll have to watch the next episode alone while you sleep then."

Her dark chocolate brown eyes narrowed the ever slightest at that, as if she was trying to profile you to see if you were lying or not.

You stated back with the same amount of intensity, using it as an excuse to admire your girlfriend's beauty.

Wednesday uncharacteristically broke the eye contact first as she let out an angry huff.

"Only one more episode then." You grin at her words, already knowing that meant there were a lot more episodes ahead of you two.

"But I need to empty my bladder first." She states before she let go of your hand to stab up. Once she was out of the bed and standing she gave you a menacing glare before saying. "Don't start the episode without me."

You nodded your head.

"Go piss girl." You said as you let out a small laugh at your own words, still finding the meme enjoyable.

Wednesday stared blankly at you for a few seconds before she turned around and headed towards the bathroom.

She never understood the joke no matter how many times you told her the meme.

Once you heard the shutting of the door you didn't hesitate to roll over to Wednesday's side and retrieve her phone.

Pressing on the screen her lock screen appeared, her lockscreen wallpaper simply being a black background.

Very Wednesday, you thought to yourself. Was the chances of you actually figuring Wednesday's password slim? Yes. Impossible? No.

You were determined to change the girl's wallpaper to something stupid at least once.

Swiping up the phone presented the password screen to you, the circular numbers taking up the entire screen.

Your thumb hovered over the numbers as you thought of what possibly could her password.

Your first guess was '233267' since under each number was one letter that in order spelt 'Addams'.

Much to your disappointment the phone vibrated as the password emptied, telling you that the password was incorrect.

Knowing you didn't have much time to waste you quickly thought of another password you hadn't tried before.

'782378' This time the letters under the numerals spelt Pubert, the name of Wednesday's youngest brother.

Once again the phone vibrated angrily, taunting you that you got it wrong once again.

You sighed as you glanced over at the bathroom door knowing Wednesday would walk through them any minute.

Accepting your defeat you decided to give one last attempt before giving up. This time you just mimicked Wednesday's blank expression as you entered a six digit passcode you hadn't tried before.

'111111' You rolled your eyes as you entered the final digit expecting to hear the vibration once again, especially due to the fact how simple the password was.

But to your surprise you didn't feel a vibration in your hand. Instead you heard nothing.

Your eyes snapped back towards the screen and to your utter delight and shock you were in Wednesday's phone.

You actually managed to guess her password!

(You decided to ignore the fact it was literally more hackable and easier to guess than Enid's passcode)

A smug smile appeared on your face as you straightened your posture, pushing yourself slightly up as your mind rushed with different things you could change her wallpaper to.

Your eyes glanced at her home screen and you fully expected her home screen to be the same as her lock screen.

But it wasn't.

Her wallpaper was a picture of you two on your first date.

You were not expecting that.

The picture itself was a selfie you took, your face closer to the camera with Wednesday sitting behind you. You had a wide smile on your face while Wednesday had her iconic death stare.

In the background of the photo was the gorgeous forest of Nevermore. It was where you had your first date with Wednesday.

Wednesday had prepared a picnic and mapped out the best spot in the forest where she apparently knew the two of you wouldn't be interrupted. It was truly magical.

The longer you stared at the home screen the harder you found it to go actually change the picture.

Suddenly, you heard the obnoxiously loud taps from behind the bathroom door, indicating Wednesday was going to come out any second.

You glanced at the door before back at her phone. Even if it was a few seconds before Wednesday emerged that was still plenty of time for you to change it.

You smiled slightly to yourself as you shut the phone off and placed it back to its orignal spot before shifting back to your side of the bed.

As expected the bathroom door opened a few moments later and silently Wednesday walked over to the bed and got in.

She skilfully sneaked under the blanket you two were sharing and entered your personal space before she turned her head to look at you.

"Are you going to put the continuing episode on or not?" She asked impatiently with a tilt of her head.

You didn't reply at first. Instead you leaned down to kiss Wednesday's cold lips.

The shorter girl took a second to notice what was happening before you felt her kiss you back, you couldn't help but smile against her lips at the feeling.

The kiss itself was brief but it still managed to take away your breath as Wednesday pulled away.

She looked up at you with the smallest tint of pink tainting her ears, something you so desperately wanted to comment on.

"Although that was pleasurable why did you kiss me?" You shrugged your shoulders weakly as your grabbed Wednesday's hand with your hand. "I just wanted to kiss you." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

The rare small smile slowly appeared on Wednesday's face as she turned to look at the TV screen at the foot of your bed. She shifted closer to you as she did so.

You pressed one final kiss to Wednesday's head before you grabbed the remote with your free hand and pressed play for the next episode.

Although your prank was a failure this time you didn't mind.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x femreader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #fanfic #fluff #wednesday addams & reader #my writing #i'm so gay #i'm also so tired

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seresinhangmanjake · 5 months

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The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear.

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all.

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore.

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves.

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me.

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has.

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface.

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I still don’t.

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life.

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically.

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you.

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess.

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask.

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?”

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come.

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money.

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious.

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room.

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst.

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?”

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine.

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes.

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

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incendiobrock · 2 months

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Boneyard Bash {JJ Maybank}

Summary: A twist to the boneyard scene where instead of JJ offering Sarah a drink, Rafe offers y/n one. This doesn’t sit well with bf JJ and a fight ensues but the gun is pulled on the wrong person.. ;)

Warnings: gun violence, language, physical fighting, drinking, smoking, slight mention of blood

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The past twenty-four hours consisted of a lot of concocting and illegal activities that you would rather not list out. You see, when John B, JJ, Pope, Kiara, and you run into a sunken ship, and the police won’t listen to you when you try to report it, matters are taken into your own hands. What started as a plan to figure out who’s Grady White sunk during hurricane Agatha- has turned into a money ring.

“Can we please take a break from the illegal, money scheming antics? We’ve been at it all day, and I’m still dead serious about getting caught, I can not lose my scholarship!” Pope spoke, eyeing each and everyone of you as you sat around on the porch of the chateau. Kiara quickly agreed, John B and JJ almost getting caught at the motel was enough for her.

“Either way is fine with me.” You stated, taking a hit from the joint that JJ had just rolled, blowing out the smoke and instantly feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You passed the joint back to your blonde boyfriend, allowing him to get a few hits of it as well.

“We could hit up the boneyard?” John B suggested, a quizzical expression playing on his face. He knew that his friends never passed on the idea of throwing a kegger.

“Now we’re talkin!” JJ cheered, his arm finding its way over your shoulders as you snatched the joint back from him. After your last hit you put out the bud, twisting the burning end into the wood of the porch, ultimately saving the rest for later. You all got up from your spots, heading over to the twinkie so you could pick up a couple kegs before heading to the abandoned part of the beach.

---

The drinks were starting to hit you after downing two, and sipping on a third. Your body swayed to the music playing as a fire slowly burned in the background. You and Kiara had been dancing for awhile, talking about all the things that you never spoke of with the three boys. You were thankful that Kie was there, she was the one that made sure you kept hold of a little bit of your sanity. Out of ear shot, JJ sat next to Pope on a piece of old driftwood that had been washed to shore. His eyes watched you as you let out a laugh in response to something Kiara must’ve said, pure bliss radiating off of you.

“Dude, you’re starring hardcore at y/n.” Pope chuckled, nudging his shoulder. JJ grinned, shaking his head a little as he looked down at his lap. He had a red solo cup in hand, also feeling the affects of all the beer he had consumed so far this night.

“I can’t help it Pope, I’m in love with her.” JJ responded, looking back up at you as the fire cast its light across your face, making you glow like a true goddess.

You glanced over your shoulder, blushing as you made eye contact with your boyfriend from across the way.

“Well, well, well... If it isn’t the wanna be Pogue and the Pogue princess dancing around the fire on this fine evening.” A voice spoke from behind you. You felt your smile instantly leave, recognizing who the voice belonged to without having to even turn around.

“What do you want Rafe?” Kie asked, crossing her arms over her chest, sending death glares at the number one asshole in all of the OBX. Rafe scoffed, running a hand through his preppy, annoying, rich hair.

“I actually didn’t come over here for you, as if that’s any sort of shock-” He spat, a red solo cup sloshing around beer as he used his hands for emphasis. “-I really only came over here to offer y/n a drink.” He finished his sentence, extending the cup out to you.

“No thanks, I think I’m good.” You said rolling your eyes and turning your back towards the Kook. Despite you constantly trying to shut Rafe down, he would continue to talk to you any chance he got. All the Pogue’s had picked up that he had some sort of weird fascination with you, and it drove JJ mad. He hated that Rafe was constantly up your ass, despite the numerous times you told him you weren’t interested. JJ knew you could handle yourself, but it also just made him upset because you are his girl, and no one could get in the way of that.

“Oh come on... Where’s that little Pogue boyfriend of yours? Did he get himself thrown in jail yet?” Rafe pushed, causing you to turn back around.

“He’s right here you dipshit!” JJ yelled, quickly walking up to Rafe and punching him square in the face. You and Kiara both gasped, watching as Rafe almost instantly fought back. He took ahold of JJ’s shirt, knuckles going white from the tight grasp, and throwing his towards the sand. JJ fumbled slightly, his back hitting the ground relatively hard, but he managed to get back up and tackle Rafe to the ground as well.

“Rafe! Leave him alone!” You cried, watching as Rafe threw multiple punches at JJ’s face. He was lucky that he had been able to dodge a few of them. Before you knew it, John B, and Topper had joined in too. Each boy standing up for their respective friend but ultimately just creating a bigger fight.

Topper and JJ were now the ones who were throwing punches left and right, John B struggling to pull them apart from each other. You had almost had enough of all the fighting, storming towards the four boys, a little unsure of what your game plan was. “Hey! Stop it!” You yelled out again, watching as JJ had once again hit Topper, his nose now gushing blood. Rafe broke away from the boys, coming straight to you and pulling you against him to where your back was flat against his chest. His left arm wrapped around your shoulders, your neck being trapped between the bend in his arm, keeping you snug against him. His right hand raised up, a cool touch of metal being placed against your temple.

Your body instantly froze, although you had never found yourself in this situation before, you weren’t stupid. Rafe had a gun. It had all happened so fast, you hadn’t even had the chance to try and fight back, and now you sure as hell weren’t going to. Who knows whether Rafe would actually use the thing or not...

“Maybank! You better get your dirty Pogue hands off my friend! Or else!” Rafe said, the gun shaking against your temple as his voice rang out. JJ’s eyes immediately shooting over and seeing the tears forming in your eyes as Rafe’s gun was pressed flush against your head. Your hands were clutching onto the arm that Rafe was using to hold you in place, using him as support as your legs trembled beneath you.

“Let her go man! This doesn’t involve her!” John B said, coming closer to the two of you. Panic written across everyone’s face, even Topper seemed scared.

“Don’t come any closer! Tell them princess, if they come any closer I’ll shoot this gun right through your skull.” Your body shook, struggling to catch your breath as tears streamed down your face. Your eyes never lost sight of JJ’s as he stood and watched, trying to calculate his next move. Any alcohol in any of your systems was now long gone, feeling more sober by the second due to the severity of the situation at hand.

“Please- just let me go...” You chocked, begging Rafe to stop. You had seen him angry before, especially towards you guys, but never to this degree. You could tell he was enjoying it too as he chuckled to himself.

“Next time, maybe you should just be nice and accept my drink. That way we don’t have to end up in a little fight, alright princess?” He whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your hair. You gulped, nodding your head up and down, hoping that this would be the end of his threats. “Good.” He whispered again, releasing your body from his grip and removing the gun all in one motion. You landed on your hands and knees, gasping for more air.

JJ rushed to your aid, dropping down in front of you and cupping your face in his hands, causing you to look at him. “Oh my god, are you alright? Did he hurt you baby?” He asked, his voice breaking slightly, tears now filling his icy blue eyes. You shook your head ‘no’, unable to form a sentence. JJ helped lift you into a sitting position, cradling you in his arms. He rocked you slightly, running a hand through your hair, trying to help you even out your breath.

“I thought I was going to lose you.” He whispered, the tears finally breaking their seal and gliding down his face.

“I thought you were too.” You replied, letting out a strained chuckle. He smiled, relieved to hear your voice again. He took ahold of both of your hands, allowing you both to stand back up.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Kiara said, coming to your opposite side, nodding towards John B and Pope. You both agreed, following her and the others back towards the twinkie. JJ held a firm grip around your waist, not ready to let you go again after what Rafe had almost done to you. You leaned into him, thankful that you hadn’t died.

Once all five of you were back in the twinkie, and you were laying against JJ’s chest, he spoke once more, “If he ever puts a hand on you again he’s dead.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #Outer Banks #obx

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pinkacademiaprincess · 7 months

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Any guide on Elle woods / hermione / rory coz I had no study motivation 😮‍💨

“she’s like a real life rory gilmore…”

fictional study icons guide, part 1: rory gilmore

ty for the ask! i’m gonna make this multiple parts, next will be elle woods, i never read/ watched harry potter tho so idk about hermione 🫣 but if y’all want me to do other characters, feel free to send ideas!

know your goals

rory had a clear idea of what she wanted for herself: to go to harvard & to become a journalist. when school & studying starts to feel tedious or difficult, having a strong “why” will keep you going. maybe you want to get into a certain school, you have a dream career path, or you want to become extra knowledgeable. never lose sight of your goal - surround yourself with reminders of it. rory had harvard memorabilia hanging in her room as a constant reminder of what she was working towards. you can create a vision board online, print pictures & hang them in your room, put notes up on your mirrors & walls. remember that classes, tests, & assignments are all leading you to a greater goal. studying is a means to an end and you deserve the best ending!

study a lot

rory prioritized her studies and spent a lot of her free time on schoolwork. the easiest way to succeed is to put in the time. don’t cut corners when it comes to your education - do your homework and assignments diligently, go through assigned readings & videos carefully, & if the teacher gives you optional/additional work, do it. remember tho, it’s important to study smarter, not harder. the most beneficial thing you can do is spend as much time as possible utilizing study methods that work for you. don’t waste time on study methods that aren’t effective for you. you can search my older posts for info about study styles or google learning styles & use that to help determine your best approach to schoolwork.

conquer challenges asap

when rory first started going to chilton, she unexpectedly got a bad grade on one of her first essays. she could have sat there and made excuses, felt sorry for herself and blamed the school/ teachers, but instead she worked extra hard to improve and overcome that poor grade. in the end she was valedictorian, showing that she was able to rise to the challenge and ultimately succeed. if you find yourself struggling with schoolwork, please take initiative asap and get whatever help you need. utilize all your resources - teachers, classmates, youtube video explanations, khan academy, tutors (if possible) - do not allow a dip in performance to be your norm. try to get to the bottom of why you’re struggling and then take care of whatever’s causing it. if you let yourself succumb to the struggle - telling yourself it’s because of bad teachers, the content is too hard, etc. - the only person who is gonna suffer in the long run is you. be proactive and take charge of your education.

take breaks

while rory did spend a lot of her time studying, it didn’t rule her whole life. she still made time for friends, family, and fun activities. life is about balance, and you don’t want to burn yourself out by spending every waking moment on school. take breaks for fun, to spend time with loved ones, to get fresh air & be active. give your mind breaks so that you can stay in top shape. that being said, make sure you strike a balance. don’t let your social life get in the way of your academics, but don’t let studying stop you from living life.

read a lot!

when i think of rory, i think of reading. she always has her nose in a book! she not only reads, but she reads books that are thought-provoking and intellectual - classics, non-fiction, and so on. reading is a wonderful hobby and it can also be a way to expand your mind. challenge yourself by reading books that are somewhat difficult to challenge yourself to read closely & dissect the content. find classics that genuinely interest you or non fiction on topics you enjoy. combine the fun of reading with the desire for intellectual growth. by reading more difficult books you can improve your vocabulary, build you reading comprehension skills, become better at analyzing literary devices, and overall become a more interesting person.

that’s all! have a great school year & best of luck with your studies! 🩷

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randombush3 · 12 days

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a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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indulgentdaydream · 2 months

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I love most of the reader tropes we have for Jason.

we’ve got catwoman sidekick!reader, batgirl!reader, kryptonian!reader, vigilante!reader, ex-vigilante!reader. The whole works.

But what I’ve always thought about is…

Wonder Girl!Reader who…

Is wonder girl while Jason is Robin, after Donna, before Cassie.

The only other hero/sidekick his age at the time

Wonder Girl!Reader and Robin!Jason who quickly become friends, even if they’re not allowed to know each other’s identites

Jason who lowkey has a bit of a crush on Wonder Girl!Reader

Reader who is oblivious and is mostly just having fun hanging out with other sidekicks/heroes

I don’t know!! It’s an extremely cute concept to me. I absolutely adore the childhood friends to lovers trope. ESPECIALLY when they get separated for an extended amount of time, then reunite and they’re older and essentially different people, but still find a way to bond.

Has anyone written anything like this before? I’ve never seen it and I think it has the capacity to be so cute + interesting!!

Some more thoughts on how I, personally, would write/interpret this:

Wonder Girl!Reader stopped being wonder girl shortly after Jason’s death.

Whether she just disappears, willingly throws in the rag, ALSO dies/fakes her death to get away from the scene is entirely up to interpretation

Though i do lean towards faked her own death. (More angsty and more to work with)

Jason comes back, but she doesn’t know that. All she knows is a whisper of a new crime lord in Gotham. Nothing she’s worried about.

(now ex-) Wonder Girl!Reader isn’t even from Gotham.

I imagine reader kinda drifts back into the hero scene a little, although she tries her best to stay away and live a normal life, a little bit after Jason comes back to Gotham

He finds out she is actually still alive and active

She doesn’t find out who he is right away

Shenanigans ensue

Feel free to send asks for more thoughts of this. Either of my own or your own thoughts. (NOT requests. But like a conversation.)

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #missy talk #dc #red hood #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x fem!reader #wonder girl!reader #jason todd x wonder girl!reader

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runningfrom2am · 2 months

Text

cold nights // part twenty-three

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 5.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: yayyyy s3 is here!! this has SO much potential and there is so much i want to do with this from here but i believe this will be the last season!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

You had the train car all to yourselves. Few peacekeepers were allowed to leave in the wake of the murders, and for that you were thankful. You were able to let Tybalt out to explore the car, but he mostly stayed on your lap.

You felt guilty about taking him, you didn't even want to ask until your mother insisted, and Coryo wouldn't deny you bringing him. You thought about maybe taking him to a vet when you arrived. There were hardly any in Twelve, none of which made time for domestic animals that weren't livestock of some kind. You had to assume that in the Capitol that was a completely different story, so maybe this would be good for him.

It was dark by now, and Coryo was fast asleep on the bench next to you, head pressed to the window. You suspect he hadn't slept at all the night before.

"Sejanus." You whisper. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." He replies quietly, sitting across from you at the small table.

"Are you okay?" Your question is met with a few beats of silence.

"I was meant to go with them." He whispers. "I didn't want to go back there."

"The Capitol?" You ask. "Why not?"

"It's not my home." He answers simply. You can hardly see his face in the dark, but you can tell he's sad. Grieving the life he could have had.

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"Sejanus?" You whisper, leaning forward to try and see him.

"Hm?"

"Was Lennox going too?"

"No." You can see the shadow of him shaking his head in the dark. "He was only going to bring some supplies for us out to the cabin at the lake and leave them for us to pick up on our way."

You breathe a quiet sigh of relief. He couldn't have left. You knew you couldn't bear it- and your parents would not cope well losing another child. You thought he wouldn't do that, but you weren't confident enough to say for certain. You'd much rather have a rebel for a brother than never see him again. Though, to you, helping friends was hardly an act of rebellion.

"What... what are you going to take?" You ask, hoping to change the topic. It was nice to have him talking again. "At the university, I mean."

"Medicine. I'd like to be a doctor, I think. I want to help people, maybe out in the Districts."

"Of course." You grin. "That's so like you. Your patients will be very lucky people."

"It'll never be enough." He shakes his head and you frown. "I can't help everyone. And everyone outside the Capitol needs it so bad. Did you know my father is the head of munitions in District Two? I'll never be able to make up for the pain my name has caused. Never."

"Well..." You look down at the cat curled up next to you. "You saved Tybs. I can't even tell you how much that means to me. Everything you do will mean so much to people. Even if it's just one person, I think that is more than enough. To try is more than enough."

You see the ghost of a smile twitch on his lips. "Thanks, Y/N. You're gonna do good things, too."

"How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself."

Sejanus sighs. "Extremely."

A few hours later, it was your turn to sleep. At least, to try. It was hard to get comfortable, curled up on one of the benches with a bag of your clothes as a pillow and Tybalt insisting on sleeping on top of you.

You were just drifting off, you could hardly keep your eyes open, when quickly a nightmare jolts you awake. Bang! The sound of a gunshot- in your dream state you know it's the bullet that found a home in Cole Harlem. The next 'bang' was the sound of your head hitting the table next to you when you shoot back up, unintentionally scaring your cat off of your side.

You hiss, placing a hand on the side of your head and rubbing it through the pain. "Ow..."

"Y/N? Are you okay?" You hear Coryo ask quietly, followed by footsteps across the centre aisle of the train car.

"Mhm." You hum, trying to squint to see him in the poor lighting. It must be almost morning- there's a blue wash beginning to paint over everything onboard, including his form as he's crouched down next to you.

"Let me see..." He says softly, hands already lifted ready to touch you. To see if he can help.

You move a little closer, dropping your hand so he can gently cradle your face in his larger ones, using a finger to turn your head to the side as he examines the bump on your temple.

It's impossible for him to see in this lighting, but if there was blood he would be able to tell. "Just a bump." He whispers. "You'll be alright."

You just nod slightly under his grip, eyes searching for his in the dark. Neither of you want to move. Being this close to you, having you come home with him is a gift he wouldn't dare miss by blinking too slowly or letting his hold on you drift.

"Nightmare?" He asks quietly and you just nod again. Without a word, you're moving back on the bench to the window and he is sliding into the spot next to you. "Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

"No." You answer softly, giving a slight shake of your head.

"Can I ask what it was about?" He asks. "Tigris always told me talking about it helps."

You chew your lip, looking away from him and down at the empty table. "Cole."

Coryo tenses next to you, his jaw clicking from the small movement. "I... I am sorry." He doesn't know what to say besides that- and he feels like telling you that dirtbag deserved it would do little to help the situation.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You whisper, voice mostly steady.

He nods, watching you expectantly. You take a deep breath. "I'm glad he's dead."

You must be a changed woman. It was hardly like you to say something like that- let alone feel it, but keeping it in would just keep you up at night. Coryo wouldn't hate you for it, you're sure.

He looks at you, head tilted while he confirms with himself that you did, in fact, just say the words he heard. You were the most gentle soul in Panem, he was sure, so what on earth could he have done to you to make you say something like that? Now he was more sure than ever that he did deserve it. "What did he do to you?" His gaze softens as it finds yours, and you slightly shake your head.

"It's... kind of a long story." You whisper.

"I have all the time in the world for you."

He sees the ghost of a smile tug at your lips, and you look down at your lap to process your thoughts. "He just... doesn't, didn't know how to take no for an answer." You try to explain it briefly, but the way Coryo's eyes widen makes you backtrack. "I mean, no. I'm sorry. He didn't hurt me. Well, he did, but not in the way that that sounded like." You take a deep breath. "He asked me if I would like to go on a date with him, and I said no, thank you, because I knew him and I knew he had a temper and I didn't think we would work. So, he would wait outside my school and follow me home everyday. He kept asking, I kept saying no, but he didn't listen. It only made him more mad."

It was a rare occasion that you felt so numb talking about someone who had died. "Then, about three months before the games, I guess he couldn't take the rejection anymore and he dragged me away and... I don't know how to describe it... beat me up. I suppose." You laugh dryly, only noticeable to Coryo because he was watching. "Lennox found us, really got into it with him and then had to literally carry me home with his own black eye and bleeding nose."

He nods slightly in understanding, holding himself together from throwing a fist through the window. He was right. That piece of human garbage did deserve it. Now he had every right to be glad he was dead, and so do you. It makes sense to him now, of course you'd only be pleased with a murder if it was someone who had hurt your brother- the fact that he had hurt you the way he did had nothing to do with it.

"You have every right to be happy." He tells you. "Shit, to be honest now I'm wishing I shot him myself."

"Coryo..." You sigh, frowning at him.

"Too far?" He laughs, and you can't help but join him.

"Yes!"

"'Kay, sorry, love. I'll keep it to myself." He raises his hands defensively, cocking his head to the side.

You're quiet for a moment. It's torturous for you both. "He's the reason I went in after you." Your voice is lowered now, noticeably. "He said that I had to go out on that date with him after you left, otherwise I shouldn't be shocked if my Pa ends up executed for treason."

Coryo swallows, staring at you in absolute shock. It just kept getting worse.

"I was terrified, I didn't know what to do, I couldn't be alone anymore. You would have left the next morning and I would have been with him. And I knew he wouldn't have let me talk to you ever again, and I was so scared you would hate me and you'd never know that I didn't have a choice."

"I could never hate you." He says, taking the calculated risk of reaching out to touch your hair, rolling the ends of the soft strands between his fingers. "It'd break my heart, but I wouldn't hate you."

"That's almost worse." You laugh quietly, eyes locked on his hand at your side.

"I'm glad you're coming with us. I don't know how I could live without you." He glances down at your lips, only a shadow in the dark as you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn." You agree, and that's all he can handle before he has to kiss you again.

He's so gentle when he holds your jaw in his hand and presses his lips to yours that you aren't sure if there really was a static shock that accompanied it or if that was just your body reacting to his skin on your own.

"I love you, Y/N/N." You almost swallow his words, smiling against his lips. "You know that, right?"

"I love you too, Coryo."

You tried to get as much sleep as possible over the two day ride, waking when the sun rises and you could feel the heat on your skin. You could see the tall buildings that made up the city in the distance.

People say that a ride back always feels faster, because you're familiar with the path; that your mind chooses to forget the uneventful sections. You believe it. The ride home had felt like it took an eternity, but this time it felt too fast. You were nervous; scared, more than excited. Even though this is supposed to be a good thing.

If Coryo had just asked if you would like to go with him, what would you have said? No matter how many hours you put into the question, you really don't know. Not until Cole threatened your family, anyways. You would have had to turn him down, then. Regardless, you were never given the privilege of a choice.

This isn't about him. You have to remind yourself. This is about saving your family, in more ways than one.

Maybe it really was a good thing that Cole was shot. You curse yourself for even thinking such a thing, but with him alive the only possible outcome was him having your father killed. You could only be the perfect girlfriend for so long- you knew him, one mistake from you and he would make true on his word. Then you would have to marry him in order to have another income. Your winnings from the games would only take you so far on your own.

You're not sure if it's the swaying of the train that's really making you sick.

You would get your answer an hour later when your train crossed the bridge over the river, and the Capitol was in full, glorious view.

You could physically feel the blood draining from your face as you stare out the window, unable to look away. You looked like a deer in headlights.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo hums, placing a hand on your leg. "You okay?"

You nod slightly, but you're hardly processing what's happening around you.

He frowns, leaning forward to be able to get a closer look at your face. You look like you're about to vomit or faint or both. "Look." He smiles, patting your leg and pointing out the window. "That tall building there, you see it?" You nod slowly, watching where he's pointing. "Up on the top floor there's a restaurant with big floor to ceiling windows that overlook the river and the mountains. It's beautiful." He's never been there, but he's heard it's incredible.

"And over there, that smaller, longer building is a mall." He tells you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and sliding closer as you continue to follow his hand. "On the outside there's this ice cream shop that makes the most amazing flavours. Literally anything you can imagine." He chuckles slightly. "I'll take you there."

You smile slightly, and the colour begins to return to your face with a slight rosiness in your cheeks.

"After the tunnel we'll pass the university." He grins. "It's a really nice campus, you'll love it there. They have a massive library."

You close your eyes as the train plunges into the darkness of the tunnel, nodding slightly.

"What would you like to do? We can go anywhere."

"I... today I'd just like to go home." You answer quietly.

"Of course, love. But another day, sometime in the future."

You think for a moment. "Is there a vet here?" You ask and he nods.

"I'd like to take Tybs to get looked at. He's not sick, or anything... but he's never been to the vet before so I'd just like to make sure he's in good health." You explain.

"Yeah, we can definitely do that." Coryo agrees. "And there's this bookstore that's three stories tall, you'll love it." He adds.

"Can I meet your cousin?"

"Yes, love. Of course. She'll live with us, you'll be the best of friends." Coryo explains, squeezing your shoulder. He hadn't yet considered you meeting his family, he didn't even have the chance to tell them you were coming. It would be fine, he knew that. They had the room and the funds to support another person now, that wasn't even a question. Tigris had been dying to meet you, wanting to know every detail about you before the games and especially in his phone calls home while he was in Twelve.

He realized suddenly that maybe he should be worried about his Grandma'am. He knew she had a prejudice against people in the Districts, she had voiced as much during his mentorship. She had even influenced a similar attitude in him his whole life- but you were different. You weren't like them, and she would have to learn that, but that didn't make him any less nervous about what she might say to you until then.

"I'm excited." You tell him, forcing yourself to only think about the good things to come.

Your hands are shaking as you pull into the station. You can already see it's a different one than you were pulled from last time, the first place you met Coryo. You grab your bags, holding the one containing Tybalt close to your chest as the door opens and you walk out. He wasn't too fond of getting back inside after having the freedom of roaming the train car, but you were grateful he was not a very temperamental cat.

Mostly, the station was deserted. There were a few peacekeepers here and there, but you still felt as though all eyes were on you.

You didn't notice when your friends were greeted by their waiting family members, still looking around and processing your surroundings.

"Y/N/N?" Coryo's voice brings you back to reality, and you realize you hadn't taken a single step away from the train yet. "Come here."

You smile as you walk over, eyeing who you assume to be his cousin.

"Hello, there." You grin, giving a slight wave but still holding tightly onto your cat.

"Y/N." Tigris smiles, her blonde hair draped over her shoulders in meticulously styled curls. "It's so amazing to meet you! I'm Tigris, Coryo's cousin."

"Yes, you as well." You nod, trying to mask your nervousness with a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm amazing, I am just so pleased you're here. What a great surprise!" She claps, and you take in her outfit. You've never seen such fine materials, outside maybe the silk scarf Coryo gave you that is now tucked in the old suitcase sitting next to his feet. You wonder if she made the clothes she was wearing, remembering he said she was a designer.

"Coryo has told me so much about you. I've been excited to meet you."

"I really wanted to come see you before the games but I couldn't get away from work, I'm so sorry this is the first time we're meeting." She says and you swallow, nodding slightly in response. "Will you be staying with us?"

"If... if that's okay." You say, looking to Coryo who nods.

"Of course that's okay." He answers on her behalf, but she nods in agreement.

"Yes, you're always welcome. We're so happy to have you."

"Thank you." You breathe a silent sigh of relief.

"We should get going, yeah?" Tigris says and you nod, adjusting your hold on the bag in your arms.

They start to walk, already talking about all the excitement of the trip when you get a tap on your shoulder. You jump slightly, turning and pulling your bag closer to your chest.

"Sorry, dear. I didn't mean to startle you." The woman smiling sadly at you must be Sejanus's Ma. He's standing with her, so it was the only assumption you could make.

"It's okay." You reply quietly, smiling at her politely.

"Y/N, this is my Ma." Sejanus introduces you, confirming your suspicions.

"Nice to meet you." You smile, and she brings her hands up to place on your shoulders, gently rubbing them.

"It's so good to meet you, dear." You feel so greatly comforted by her already. "Sejanus told me you would be staying for a while."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You call me Ma." She quickly corrects you, and you match her smile. You could cry- the burning behind your eyes is telling you that you just might. "We know damn well how hard this transition is, so if you need anything at all at any time, you call us. Okay? We'll help you however we can. With anything."

You smile at them, tears filling your eyes. "Thank you." You sniff, and she pulls you into a hug.

Graciously, and awkwardly with Tybalt still between you, you accept. You never want her to let go.

"Of course, dear. You'll always have a home away from home with us if you need it."

"I can no other answer make, but thanks, and thanks." You say, tears flowing now. You never seem to stop crying- but for the first time in a long time, it was from real happiness.

"Twelfth Night." Ma says as she pulls away, still holding your arms.

You laugh slightly, biting into your bottom lip and nodding. "Yes! You've read it?"

"I brushed up after Coriolanus came around asking for Romeo and Juliet." Ma shrugs, letting you go and letting Sejanus give you a hug as well.

"Coryo has our number. Call anytime, I mean it." He tells you and you nod against his shoulder. "But I'll see you soon, okay? We'll hangout all the time."

"All the time." You agree as he lets you go. "I don't want to keep them waiting, so..."

"Yes, of course. It was so good to meet you." Ma smiles.

"You as well, Ma. I'll see you soon I am certain." You wave goodbye and catch up to Coryo and Tigris, who stopped just a little ways away to wait for you. "Sorry..."

Tigris wipes the worried expression off her face. Coryo probably just had to explain why you were there. "Don't worry about it! Ready to go?"

"Yes." You grin, quickly wiping your eyes. "Lead the way."

There are so many things that you hadn't considered on the train ride. Such as, where was the nearest post office? Or how is Tybs going to handle being indoors constantly? You'll have to get him a litter box- you've never had one before since he was mostly an outdoor cat, and would he need toys now that there probably wouldn't be mice or birds for him to hunt?

Also, there was the immediately obvious fact that the stares you were getting were endless. People even stopped you asking for pictures on the way back- Coryo had to tell them no. Several times. It wasn't any longer than a twenty minute walk.

Everyone seemed so excited to see you, to talk to you. Or, talk at you, rather. It was uncomfortable, but it was so different than what you were used to at home. Especially after the games, people tended to literally cross the street to avoid talking to you. Here, it was the opposite. You were some kind of celebrity. You knew Capitol people liked the games, but you didn't know it was like this. You tried to be polite, but being celebrated for something so awful is hard to swallow. You almost preferred the shame that came with being avoided.

"Is it normally like that?" You ask quietly as you walk into the lobby of a tall building, the floors and pillars lined with white marble. You had never seen anything like it.

"I'm not sure." Coryo answers honestly. "You are the first Victor to ever come back, but like I said, people loved you. Thousands of people watched just for you. That's why I won the Plinth Prize- you boosted the viewership beyond what's ever been seen before."

"Oh." You answer simply, following them into a set of silver sliding doors in the wall.

"When we get up I'll make you something to eat, you guys must be starving." Tigris says as the mechanical doors slide shut again, and you tilt your head.

"Uhm... I-" Your question is halted by a steady shake of the small room you're in, and it feels like you're moving.

Coryo looks over at you and your wide eyes, furrowing his brow. "What's wrong?"

"Are we moving?" You ask, looking around. You're surrounded by mirrors, only seeing endless reflections of the three of you.

Tigris covers her mouth to hide her smile, and Coryo laughs. "Yes, love." The two of them look at each other briefly. "This is an elevator, in a second the doors will open and we'll be at our apartment."

"Oh, wow." You laugh slightly, in a small amount of shock.

"I didn't even think that you might not know what it is, I'm sorry." Coryo chuckles, gently rubbing circles onto your back as the doors slide open again and just like he told you, you were somewhere new.

"That's okay, I just have a lot to learn apparently." You giggle, shaking your head as you step out of the so-called "elevator". You look back inside it as the doors slide shut. "So, how does it work?"

"Honestly, I am not entirely sure of the mechanics of it but there's a motor up top, and when you press that button it lifts to you and then lowers to where you want to go." He explains as Tigris pulls out her key to unlock the door. "It didn't work for over ten years, so it's kind of new to me too."

He's trying to make you feel less embarrassed, and that makes you smile at him. "I see. That's neat."

"It is, isn't it?" Coryo grins. He was in absolute awe of you everyday, but now that he's realized that there are so many things you don't know, even as the smartest person he's ever met, and that he wants to show you absolutely everything. Had you even tried ice cream before? What else would be new to you? There were certainly no cars besides peacekeeper trucks in Twelve, not that he had seen anyways, so it must have been jarring for you to see civilian vehicles on the walk back. He should have asked.

As adorable that it was that there were things you had never seen before, it almost worried him in a way he hadn't considered before. You would need him around a lot- not that he minded one bit. He had liked that about the games, he knew where you were while you were caged up at the zoo and he could leave and come back with the comfort of knowing you would be there waiting for him.

His thoughts are interrupted when Tigris gets the door open, shouting for their grandma'am. He takes a deep breath, smiling as he holds the door for you. It is good to be home.

"We have company!" Tigris calls out as you walk in, and you look around focussed on keeping your mouth shut as not to physically gawk at their home. Their apartment was beautiful, with a somewhat open concept and halls that spun off in all directions from the main foyer.

"Oh, lovely! We haven't had company in ages. You should get the tea on, dear." You hear his grandmothers voice before you see her, sparing a glance at Coryo. If he's nervous, he doesn't look it.

She looks like the sweetest old lady, her white hair matching the shade of her silk robe and slippers. "Oh, Coryo!" She smiles, heading straight to him and giving him a hug. "How we have missed you..."

"I missed you too, grandma'am." He sighs, gentle as he hugs her back. When he lets her go, it seems like she has noticed you for the first time.

The excited smile on her face fades instantaneously as she looks you up and down. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N. You remember I told you about her, right?"

"I do." She nods, a sour look on her face as she stares at you.

"Hello, you must be Coriolanus's grandmother, it is so lovely to finally meet you." You smile, readjusting your bag so you can hold it in one arm in order to extend your hand to her to shake. She doesn't take it. "You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Snow." You continue when she doesn't answer you, holding your smile and trying not to seem terrified. It was like the lead-up to the games all over again.

"What's in her bag?" She asks Coryo when she sees it move, ignoring you altogether as you awkwardly drop your hand.

"That's Tybalt, her cat. He's the softest thing, you'll love him." He smiles, an apologetic look in his eyes as he glances over at you. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

"A cat?" His grandmother gasps, taking a step back with a hand to her chest. For a moment, you were scared she was about to have a heart attack.

"Grandma'am, you love cats!" Tigris says, stepping back in from the kitchen with a kettle in hand. "Y/N, come join us in the sitting room. I'm just getting some snacks together."

"Not feral ones!" She replies, appalled.

"Oh, he's not feral, Ma'am." You assure her. "Unless you're a mouse or a bird, he's the gentlest animal alive."

"Coriolanus Snow how dare you bring these... these strays into our home!" Now she's talking like you aren't even there, and you can't help but laugh nervously.

You look away, anywhere but at either of them. Maybe you would be calling Sejanus and his Ma for somewhere to stay by the end of the afternoon.

"They aren't strays." He defends you quickly, frowning. Okay, this was what he was afraid of.

"Here, come sit, Y/N." Tigris says quietly, placing the kettle back down and guiding you out of the room with hands on your shoulders. "I am so, so sorry." She whispers as you walk away.

"It's quite alright." You insist. "She didn't know I was coming, it was all so short notice. I completely understand." She didn't even know you were staying yet.

The sound of Coryo talking down his grandmother faded into muffled sounds as Tigris closes the door to what looks to be a bedroom. "No, no it's not right." Tigris frowns, shaking her head. "I don't want to make excuses for her but the war and the dark days were so hard on her, a lot of the blame was placed on the people from the Districts. She lost both her children and she never really came back from that."

"No, I do understand." You smile sadly. "I'm so sorry you and your family went through that. It must have been so difficult."

"The war was awful for everyone." Tigris shakes her head. "Please, don't apologize to us. No one came out of that unharmed."

"Do you mind if I let Tybalt out?" You ask, eager to change the subject.

"Please." Tigris grins, clearly just as relieved that you weren't horribly offended by their grandmothers behaviour. "I'm excited to meet him."

You smile, crouching down and opening up the carrier for him to hop out. He does so promptly, taking advantage of the opportunity.

"He's so cute!" Tigris squeaks, crouching down to pet him. He was a little jarred at first by new surroundings, but he quickly accepted them when she began petting him. "It'll be so nice to have a fluffy friend here."

"Thank you for being okay with me bringing him." You smile, taking the time to look around the room yourself. Everything looked hardly touched, all sparkly and new with corner windows lighting up the space beautifully.

"Our home is your home." She smiles, standing up again and Tybalt is quick to run over to you, rubbing up against your legs. "That applies to both of you. Grandma'am will come around."

"Thank you." You smile. "The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience."

When she smiles, you can see outside of the blonde hair how her and Coryo are related. "You truly are something else."

"Oh, I hope that's a good thing..." You laugh.

"Yes, absolutely." She laughs. "I'll go get that tea going again and get the guest room all set up for you. The bathroom is right across the hall if you need it, and Coryo will come get you when grandma'am has relaxed a bit."

"Thank you." You say again, watching your cat hop up onto the desk against the back wall.

She gives you a quick hug. "Welcome home." She says softly, shutting the door behind her as she leaves.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl , @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie, @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @strawberryflavouredkisses

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 months

Text

destiny ~ geralt of rivia;the witcher

word count: 1749

request?: no

description: after a long, rough journey, the princess feels safe enough to sleep, so her mage talks with the witcher

pairing: geralt of rivia x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

It was a long, tiring journey to bring Princess Ciri to find her destiny; the Witcher. The poor girl, only a child, had seen far more than anyone her age should ever see. Her grandmother had been smart enough to send a Mage with her at least, but there was only so much one Mage could do against the threats they had faced. When they had finally found him, stood alone after his own battle, and Ciri ran to embrace him, (Y/N) sighed in relief and finally allowed her body to relax.

They set up camp for the night. Geralt promised them he would find them somewhere with an actual bed for the next night, but Ciri could care less about where she was sleeping. (Y/N) knew she felt relieved, too. And finally the young princess could sleep knowing that she was safe.

Ciri was sound asleep next to a fire (Y/N) had built to keep her warm. The Mage was sat against a tree nearby, just watching. Knowing that Ciri was safe, that she felt safe enough to finally let her guard down, gave (Y/N) such a sense of relief that she felt like she could finally breathe again.

“You should be sleeping as well.”

(Y/N) looked up to see Geralt stood over her. She was surprised a man of his size was able to move so silently, but then again it was probably a skill he had to pick up as a Witcher.

“I would imagine you are just as exhausted as she,” he said.

“I am,” (YN) confirmed. “But not so exhausted that my body wishes to rest just yet. I guess it hasn’t realized yet that there is no threat anymore.”

“There are still plenty of threats.”

She shook her head. “Not tonight. Tonight, she rests soundly, and she is safe.”

Geralt looked over at the sleeping girl. For years he had been trying to deny Ciri. He didn’t believe in destiny, and he was the last person who should be looking after a child. But now that she was here, unharmed and at peace, he couldn’t deny that he felt relief as well. There were still plenty of threats out there, that much was still true, but he decided to agree with (Y/N) just this once. Tonight, they were all safe.

Geralt sat across from her. “You did well in protecting her. She likely wouldn’t have made it this far on her own.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” (Y/N) admitted. “I promised her grandmother that nothing would happen to her, and I am not one to break a promise.”

“I was unaware that Queen Calanthe had a Mage in her kingdom.”

“I’m not a royal Mage. Just an old friend that she asked a favor of.”

“A very good friend to risk your life.”

(Y/N) smiled and shrugged. “I have known Ciri since birth, and her mother before her. I would do anything to keep that girl safe.”

She was gazing at Ciri again. Geralt noticed the look on her face. “Do you have children of your own?”

“Oh, Gods no. Those are very uncommon in my line of work.”

“No lover either, then?”

She chuckled. “Also very uncommon. It’s hard to let yourself fall in love when you are immortal.”

Geralt wasn’t sure why he even asked. It felt like the logical next question after asking if she had children, but Geralt cared very little if she had said yes to having a lover. Or, so he thought anyways.

(Y/N) looked back to him, a sly grin on her face. “Queen Calnthe told me about your ties to Ciri.”

Geralt grunted. “I’m sure she did.”

“She could hardly tell the story without a string of profanities.” (Y/N) giggled. “No one has ever made the queen more angry than Geralt of Rivia.”

Geralt found himself smiling as well.

“Well,” (Y/N) said, tilting her head a little. “Would you look at that.”

“What?” he asked.

“The Witcher smiles. And he looks quiet handsome doing so.”

(Y/N) was nothing if not forward. One does not live for many decades and not become bold and forward. She felt a little delight when she saw a brief look of shock on Geralt’s face. She certainly wasn’t lying, though. Anyone with eyes could see that Geralt was good looking. She was sure he was able to use that to his advantage as well.

Silence fell over them. The only sounds were the wildlife around them and the crackling fire. Both of them turned to check on Ciri at the same time, as if some sort of instinct kicked in for them both. (Y/N) took Geralt’s distraction as an opportunity to really study him. She had seen a look in his eyes when Ciri had run to him earlier, but it was so brief that she couldn’t place it at the time. He had been wearing his tough guy mask since, except for this moment. As he gazed at Ciri, (Y/N) could see two emotions on his face: relief and worry.

“The queen also told me,” (Y/N) said, drawing Geralt’s attention back to her, “that you weren’t going to claim Cirilla at first. She said you called Law of Surprise without truly believing in it.”

Geralt grunted. “All that bullshit about destiny. I didn’t believe any of it. I called Law of Surprise because they insisted on something for me saving Urcheon’s life. I didn’t actually believe I would get anything.”

“And yet...” (Y/N) glanced towards the sleeping princess.

He nodded. “I didn’t want a child by any means. This is not a life for a child. If destiny is real, it has played a cruel trick on her.”

“Or it has given her a father that she so dearly needed after her own passed.”

“And a mother?”

(Y/N) smiled. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t thought about the next step after Ciri was united with Geralt. Truthfully, she didn’t want to think about it. The thought of being separated from Ciri hurt too much, but she didn’t expect Geralt to want her to travel with them. He had been travelling alone for so many years that she was sure it would take time for him to get used to Ciri being with him, let alone if (Y/N) joined as well. She felt full of joy hearing Geralt insinuate that he wanted her to continue travelling with them as well. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Ciri just yet, or to Geralt for that matter.

“What a family we’d be,” she laughed. “A Witcher, a Mage, and a princess. Sounds like the beginning of a terrible joke.”

Geralt chuckled as well. (Y/N)’s smile broke as she let out a yawn.

“You should get some sleep,” Geralt told her.

“As should you.”

“I will.”

(Y/N) nodded. She wasn’t in any position to argue with him over whether or not he was actually going to sleep. She could feel herself finally being bogged down by her fatigue and knew it wouldn’t be long until she gave in completely.

Geralt’s eyes followed her as she moved to her knees. Instead of rising, she leaned towards him to close the gap between them. She lightly pressed her lips to his cheek, leaving a gentle kiss there before pulling away. He tried to keep his face unchanged as she sat back to look at him.

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

~~~~~~

The sun was high in the sky when (Y/N) woke the next day. The fire had gone out and the heat was instead replaced by the scorching sun. (Y/N) blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes used to the brightness of day. When she finally managed to clear her vision, she noticed she was alone at the camp.

She quickly sat up and looked around. There was barely any signs that anyone else had ever been here. Just the kindle left over from the fire she had lit for Ciri. She felt herself beginning to panic. Had they left her? Had someone taken Ciri and Geralt went after them? Had Geralt changed his mind about having her join them?

She was getting to her feet when she heard the sound of horse hooves against the ground. A horse broke through the clearing in a fast trot before coming to a stop. (Y/N) breathed a sigh of relief when Ciri jumped down from the back of the horse.

“Good morning,” the young princess said, walking up to wrap her arms around (Y/N). The Mage was taken back by the gesture at first, but then happily hugged Ciri back.

“More like good afternoon,” Geralt commented, jumping down from his horse as well. “You’ve been asleep for hours. We went on to find food without you.”

“Forgive me for being tired,” (Y/N) said, playfully glaring at Geralt. To Ciri, she asked, “Did you sleep well, princess?”

“The best I’ve slept since we left Cintra,” Ciri admitted.

(Y/N) smiled and cupped her face. “You are safe now, princess. The Witcher and I will look after you and make sure no one will cause you any harm.”

Ciri looked between (Y/N) and Geralt, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “You’ll be staying with us?”

“Of course. I’ve come too far in this journey to let you go on without me. Although, I will need something to eat in order to continue on.”

She eyed Geralt. He chuckled and said, “Alright then, let’s find you something to eat as well.”

They went on foot with Geralt leading his horse behind him. Ciri was between the two of them, protected by her Mage and her Witcher.

“I was thinking,” Geralt said after some time of walking, “about our discussion last night. About destiny.”

(Y/N) looked over at him. “Yes?”

“Maybe there is such thing as destiny, and maybe it isn’t as bad as I once thought.”

“And what brought you to that conclusion?”

“Ciri was meant to be my destiny, but she wasn’t the only good thing that destiny brought to me.”

He looked directly at her when he spoke. She felt her heart flutter in her chest. She had no good response, so she just kept walking, a smile on her face.

She would have to thank destiny for bringing her to Geralt as well.

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #the witcher #the witcher imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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ja3yun · 5 months

Text

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.3

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: suggestive (smut-ish flashback), angst, lost love, pet names, not many warnings tbf, and not proofread. anything I missed please lmk!

wc: 10.3k+ (honestly, i need to make these shorter)

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. however, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

a/n: hi! I'm giving you this chapter kinda quickly. heavy appearances from my wjsn ults because they are now integral to the story <3 will update the next part during the week

4 years have passed since you left. No contact with your family, sometimes opting to send them a Christmas card with no return address just to let them know you’re alive. You missed them like crazy, more than any words could explain. It had been so long sometimes you wonder if you should go back, even for your mum’s birthday but it would be too awkward. The dramatic teen you left behind is who they knew you as, not the woman you’ve grown up to be.

College changed you dramatically, for the better you like to hope. Your roommate Eunseo quickly became your other half, showing you the ropes of Avanti, Being a year older than you she was accustomed to the college, she picked you up when you needed it the most and she didn’t even have to. You thought she took pity on you at first, just taking you under her wing because you were a crying dismantled mess. But she was simply just the loveliest person in the whole world. You wouldn’t have made it to today without her. She left college last year and got a job close by so you saw her often and you were thankful for her every day.

Throughout your college experience you did the typical; study, party, make questionable life choices at said parties. But one thing you couldn’t do was get into a relationship.

You started hooking up with guys in your second year, just flings and one-night stands. Eunseo supported your habits, “I will always support women's rights and also their wrongs” she used to say every time you pre-gamed and she never asked why you didn’t get into a relationship.

Jaeyun’s name hadn’t left your lips in 1460 days. A choice that you made as soon as you stepped off the bus in Pyeongchang. Jaeyun’s name also hadn't left your mind in 1460 days. Every touch from another felt wrong, every chat up line, every unwarranted dick pic. It wasn’t him so it didn’t matter to you.

You started to enjoy yourself more as time went on, creating a new friend group and new memories. By the final year of college, you were content with your life, finding a degree in film was a fluke but you ended up loving every bit of it, an internship was on the horizon at HYBE Media to shadow a music video producer, your hair routine finally working out. Everything was coming up Y/N. This was the right choice.

Yet you still thought about Jaeyun every day. What was he up to? Did he like living in Busan? Was he with someone else? Granted you don’t like to think about that last one too often or else you get a tightness in your chest. You wanted him to be happy but selfishly you didn’t want to know if that happiness was because of someone else.

“Helloooo, Y/N, are you even listening?” Eunseo’s hand waves across your face as you come back from your zoned-out state, “Tell me what I just said.” She huffs and crosses her legs and arms, sitting back knowingly. Eunseo had invited you to a coffee date in a quaint little shop outside of your university. She originally introduced it to you on your second day here and it became your favourite spot. Laughing, crying, and hungover, you both occupied this little shop as if it were your second home.

You smile guilty and laugh, “You were talking about how much you love me and that we should get married,” you shrug and tilt your head jokingly.

“Weirdly you are close!” Her pointer finger is now in front of your face as she leans forward quickly in a flash.

“I was?” You gave an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised.

“Yes! It has to do with marriage.” Her hands gesture an arch that can only remind you of the one SpongeBob imagination meme and you giggle.

“Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Serim after like 2 dates.” You half joke and half panic, it wouldn’t be unlike her to do something like that and you both know it. Eunseo takes in your expression and slaps the table loudly and laughs. If there was one thing your best friend wasn’t good at it’s being quiet, and you love her so much for it.

“I like him a lot, but no. Actually, it's about my sister. You know she’s getting married?” You nod, sipping your coffee, “Well of course I’m the maid of honor,” she lifts the back of her hands and twinkles them under her chin and you chuckle, “Someone dropped out and there is a spare seat. Yeoreum is a freak and needs it filled for everything ‘to go as planned’”

You had never met any of Eunseo’s family, they lived a few hours away and despite the effort Eunseo made to invite you to every family gathering, even Christmas, you declined not wishing to be a burden. “I want you to come. I checked your schedule and you’re free, I have a dress, I’m driving us up,” she keeps rhyming off every reason you have ever given her to bail on traveling with her, “and you owe me one.”

Furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head you encourage her to continue, owe her for what? “Well you don’t owe me yet but I heard the best man is single, older than you, and has these gorgeous big eyes. I’ll set you both up.”

“So I owe you for something that hasn’t even happened yet? And you don’t even know if he is interested? Or single?”

“Details, details.” Eunseo’s hand waves dismissively, “Please just come. I want you to meet my family since you don’t have any of your own. Think of my family as yours.”

Eunseo doesn’t know what happened back home. You never told her you didn’t have a family but that you were just estranged from them, never disclosing details, particularly that the reason you don’t go home is your own fault, she didn’t have to know. Eunseo didn’t know anything, not about Jaeyun, nothing at all and yet she didn’t pry into your past. You were so thankful for her.

“Eunseo,” rejection is on the tip of your lips but she’s pouting, her eyes big as she does her best to look cute, and to your dismay it works, “I’d love to come.” The sun suddenly started to shine and burn your skin as its light lay on you through the window.

“Amazing!” clapping her hands rapidly she giggles, “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Your eyes expand and she stands up not letting you protest at how soon the wedding is. “I thought she wasn’t getting married until Saturday?” You query and check your phone which reads Monday.

Walking out she explains, “Yeah but I need to be there early for final fittings, yadda yadda, boring wedding stuff. So I’m taking you with me. Either that or you drive up yourself.” The glint in her eyes as she turns to you makes your face deadpan.

“Fuck you, you know I can’t drive.” She laughs and grabs your hand.

“And I still don’t understand how you’re 23 and can’t even ride a go-kart without crashing.” Playfully you hit her arm and laughed, a memory of you and her go-karting painted your brain. After that, you never got behind another wheel.

___________

You arrive at Eunseo’s parents' house and your jaw slacks open. It’s bigger than any house you’ve ever seen. Your best friend joked a lot about being rich but you didn’t know she was rich rich. There are stairs leading to a giant white door that compliments the ash-coloured stones that surround it. Moss is growing up on each side of the home with intentionally placed pink flowers decorating throughout. Those rich bitch houses are so ugly, I want as small a house as possible so I’m always close to you no matter what room I’m in. His voice plays in your head but you shake him out.

Her parents are graciously letting you and her stay in the spare bedrooms, you don’t dare ask how many rooms are actually in this castle. Something about the air feels strangely familiar. You shrug it off and head inside with your blue suitcase and steamed dress. You curse rich people for having so many stairs.

“My baby!” Eunseo’s dad shouts from the door, “How is my sweet angel?” He greets her at the top of the stairs and hugs her tightly. You miss your dad a lot. His comforting words, his piggyback rides, his weird cinnamon body wash that made you despise the spice, you missed it all. “This must be Y/N! It only took 4 years to meet you.” His chest lets out a deep laugh as he hugs you just as tightly as his own daughter. A smile plasters on your face as you hug him with one arm, the other outstretched to protect the dress.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honour to be part of your daughter’s big day.” Eunseo’s dad’s eyes turn to crescent moons as he smiles and steps aside to usher you into the big house.

“The party is in a few hours. The happy couple aren’t here, running last-minute chores but you’ll meet them tonight.” He turns to you and points up the stairs, “Eunseo will show you where to get changed. If you need anything, me and the wife will be hovering around.” You side-eye Eunseo quickly and she smiles widely. She didn’t tell you about a party.

Bowing slightly you thank him and follow Eunseo who is squealing, shouting about how excited she is for you to meet everyone. Sometimes you wonder if she is the relationship you’ve been seeking after Jaeyun, platonic or not, you love her all the same.

A few hours later you hear bustling from the crowd gathered down the stairs, the party in full swing as Eunseo finishes curling a wispy strand of your hair. Glancing up at her you notice how beautiful she truly is; her bangs falling effortlessly to frame her face, her lips plump and naturally pouty, she was flawless.

“If you keep staring I’ll literally take you on the bed.” She smiles and you laugh. Pouting her lips near your face she pretends to kiss you and you play into it. Life is so easy with her. “Go get changed, I need to see my masterpiece completed.” Walking away she picks up the dress and thrusts it into your chest, “You’re gonna look amazing. That babe of a best man is gonna fall at your feet. Now go.” she shoos you into the ensuite bathroom.

Staring in the mirror you analyse her work on your face and hair. Never in your life have you ever looked so beautiful and you can’t help but stare. You shed your old life behind you yet this is the first time you really felt like you were reborn. The immature you left behind, the 23-year-old staring in the mirror coming up from the ashes.

Unzipping the garment bag you see the dress Eunseo picked for you and you gasp. Its a silky deep red dress. Far too sexy for something like this.

“Um, Eunseo? This dress is…” You hold it against you and observe what it would look like on you. Hot. That’s exactly how it would look and considering this was the first time meeting a whole family of someone dear to you, you’d rather be more covered up than this.

“Shut up it’s hot. My cousins will be wearing something way sluttier so it’s all good.” Her nonchalant tone doesn’t ease you but it’s either this or the dress she got you for the actual wedding.

As you adorn the dress you notice how it fits you perfectly and hugs you in at the waist flatteringly. It’s been months since you’ve put something on this beautiful. Your cleavage is out just enough, the material stops at your mid-thighs, and you feel like a beauty queen. As you take yourself in your hand goes up to your necklace. That necklace. The gold of the sun complimented the dress perfectly. You never did bring yourself to take it off.

Opening the door you see Eunseo changed into a pastel blue dress, covering her arms and neck but cut out to leave her chest exposed just enough, a slit runs up her thigh. Your jaw is on the floor as she walks over and eyes you up and down. “Look at you! A literal goddess.” she smiles as she takes your hands. “You ready to upstage my sister at her own engagement party?”

“Eunseo…you did not pick these outfits to stand out on purpose did you?” Suddenly your heart is beating quickly and the urge to change is more than ever.

“Of course not! We’re just hotter than anyone here, including her.” She laughs and hands you the pair of gold heels you eyed up as she unpacked her bags earlier. They were exactly your style. “Take these and put them on. Literally take them off whenever but for the grand entrance you need to be complete” She used her right hand to motion over your body.

Putting the shoes on you grew about 4 inches taller and were on Eunseo’s eye level now. “Ready to rock this bitch?” You nod and she grabs your arm, dragging you down the stairs.

There are eyes on you everywhere and you can’t lie, it is a little uncomfortable considering the age range of the men staring are in their late 50s. It's a party like you’ve only seen in movies; waiters walk around with Hors D’oeurves and flutes of expensive champagne. You start to wonder how much all this cost and if you could convince someone at this party to pay off your student loan.

“Hey Eunseo?” You grab her attention as she hands you a glass of bubbly happily, “I just realised I don’t know Yeoreum’s fiance’s name.”

“Oh,” She laughs loudly and slaps your arm, “It’s Jaeyun.” Your heart stops for a moment, there are lots of Jaeyun’s in Korea. Jaeyun from TO1 could walk through that door for all you knew. “Jake is what he goes by though.” Your heart drops rapidly. There might be a lot of Jaeyuns but none that also go by Jake. Part of you wishes it was the biggest coincidence in the world but as voices fill the archway into the living room where you and your best friend reside you see Yeoreum, more beautiful than any picture Eunseo showed you could capture, and Jaeyun. Your Jaeyun.

Static is all you hear as you watch him greet guests and thank them for coming, and each footstep closer to you has your mouth going moist, ready to vomit. He hasn’t noticed you and if you had control of your body you would be bolting out the door instantly, but your mind has glued your feet to the floor. You take him, his face more defined than his previous squishy state, he’s wearing a fitted black suit blazer with no shirt underneath and matching wide-leg black trousers, and his hair is slicked back with stray pieces falling around his face. He looks expensive. He looks like the home you once knew.

You see Eunseo talking to you but as your eyes meet his, that static you once heard turns into rapid heartbeats. Your body is flushing with heat as you notice how his eyes widen for a second, his body turns to you instinctively.

“Eunseo!” Yeoreum squeals and shuffles quickly to give her sister an all-consuming hug, just like you want to do to Jaeyun right now. “Jakey come here” she beacons her fiance towards the both of you and without blinking or taking his eyes off you he walks cautiously forward. “You must be Y/N? Eunseo talks about you all the time.”

She’s lovely. Gorgeous, clearly kind, she’s perfect just like her sister and it makes you want to cry. She’s perfect for him.

Plastering a smile on your face you fake glee as you hug her lightly, stealing another glance at Jaeyun while she can’t see you. He might have gotten older but those eyes still looked the same. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you pull away and step back, sole focus on his bride, “Congratulations.” It's bitter and you say it quickly.

“Aw thank you!” She beams and you feel like being sick again.

“Excuse me, I’m going to go to the restroom, I’ll be right back.” You excuse yourself and rush past the couple and Eunseo leaving a gust of air behind you. Clutching your chest you run upstairs for an escape. Out of all the best friend’s sister’s fiances, how was he the one you were faced with? Pushing the guest room door open you scuttle in and take a few deep breaths reliving the moments just before.

“Y/N?” The Australian accent hits you hard as you turn around and meet his eyes. It takes only seconds before his hands have cupped your face and his body dangerously presses against yours, so close you can feel his heart, a heart that used to beat only for you.

“Baby,” he pauses as his eyes search your face trying to convince himself that you aren’t a dream, “where did you go?” Jaeyun desperately whines, his voice cracking in sadness as his forehead touches yours. There is love laced within the melancholic question. Instinctively your hands grab his wrists as you close your eyes. “Princess, please talk to me. '' He's pleading, begging for any explanation. Jaeyun’s hands go from your cheeks and trace down your shoulders, his eyes scanning every inch of your face in desperation. He doesn’t believe you’re real and in front of him, your face is more mature yet still the same girl he loves even after all these years. 4 years he’s waited for you to come back to him.

Your silence and shallow breathing urge him to ask more questions, his thumbs stroking the area between the base of your neck and collarbone. “What happened?”

“You’re engaged.” The first words out of your mouth take him aback. His mouth stays open, his hands leaving your body leaving you cold, and shivering. “She seems nice-”

“Don’t do that,” His bottom jaw slowly clenching as he speaks, “Please don’t act fine like this. Don’t make it seem like I’m the only one that’s hurting for us right now.” You sob without tears as you see him vulnerable and eyes beseeching. Jaeyun’s hands point to you before coming together in a praying motion, “I looked for you everywhere. I spent months trying to find you.” Deep down you knew he would have looked for you, but not for months, maybe for a couple of weeks before he left for Busan, but never months, “What did I do?”

Without a beat, you respond, “Nothing. You could never do anything.”

“You don’t just abandon people you love, Y/N. Not us. There had to be something I did to make you fall out of lov-”

“Jake!” You hear a familiar voice shout and your head falls down to stare at your shoes.

“Baby please,” Jaeyun wants to hold you, kiss you, understand what happened but he can’t. Not right now.

“You should go, I’ll leave in the morning-”

“Don’t leave me again, baby, please.” His voice is quiet, despair etched within his tone. His eyes fall on your necklace, the necklace that he gifted you. His eyes trail down to properly take you in and if he wasn’t astounded before by your mere presence he was now, “You look so beautiful, just like always.”

“Jake your dad is gonna make a speech-” Heeseung's voice bellows throughout the room and yet you and Jaeyun don’t take your eyes off each other. As Heeseung walks in he freezes at the sight of you. Over the years Heeseung silently forgave you, seeing his best friend move on with Yeoreum brought him some solace when he thought about what you did to Jaeyun, but now the anger that was dissipated through time is bubbling up again, “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing here?” His tone is surprised more than angry, but you can tell he’s fuming.

You don’t dare look at him.

“You should get back to your engagement party." Nothing but a whisper as it comes out. You’ve lost him as quickly as you got him back. You did this, and now you need to deal with the consequences. Brushing past him and Heeseung you make your way back to Eunseo ignoring his hand that grazed your wrist in an attempt to stop you.

His family was here, his friends, people from your past that you wanted to forget. The pressure was starting to become too much as you rushed down the stairs before colliding with someone, “I’m sorry.” You bow quickly.

“Y/N?” Mr. Sim’s voice quips in astonishment, “What are you doing here?” His head comes down so his eyes are level with yours, “What-” He has no words, looking at the girl he thought was going to marry his son.

“Mr. Sim, It’s nice to see you again” You bow but still avoid eye contact. “I’m sure you’re proud of Jaeyun.”

“Darling, we thought something awful happened to you.” The sincerity in his voice made you look up at him, heartache carved in your features “Your mum and dad haven’t stopped worrying about you.” A hand is placed on your shoulder and as you look down you see Eunseo.

“Girl there you are! You took one long bathroom break.” She laughs and bows to Mr. Sim, “Ready for your speech, Sir?” Mr. Sim looks at you inquisitively before returning Eunseo’s bow.

“I’ve been preparing this speech for years, only some minor tweaks.” His eyes find yours and you start to think maybe he’s hinting towards the speech he would have given at Jaeyun and your engagement party. “Better head.” Lips forming a tight smile he descends the stairs.

His words circle your brain. You understood your parents would worry but all of these years you never had to face it, not until your past was being pushed onto you. Eunseo takes your hand and pulls you to the dining area where people are gathered to make speeches and say their congratulations.

Jaeyun strolls in behind Heeseung, his hands in his pockets before he notices his soon-to-be wife and wraps one arm around her. Tears threaten to spill as you watch the loving action. That should have been you. You should be marrying him, taking his second name, being his everything.

A fork clinks with a wine glass as Mr. Sim starts his speech. “Thank you everyone for coming. I will make this short considering I’m sure you’re all sick of us talking, especially when there is a free bar.” the people occupying the room laugh loudly and you see Yeoreum smile up at Jaeyun. It killed you but like always you put a smile on your face, “My son, he’s always been someone to wear his heart on his sleeve, always giving one hundred percent of himself to the person he loves,” Mr. Sims eyes fall on you and you feel like the speech is somehow directed to you, “Jaeyun deserves to have someone who loves him unconditionally, without prejudice, without pride, and always with his best interest in mind. I believe he’s found that.”

Crushed. Your heart can’t take the rest of the speech as you walk out of the room and bolt for the entrance of the house. Heaving your chest to gasp for air you feel yourself clutching at your chest, if you hadn’t had a panic attack before in your life you would have thought you were having a heart attack. You breathe out harshly, gasping for air as you lean on the banister. Someone comes up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder gently.

You hear muffled words but don’t take anything in as the figure guides you to sit on the steps, their hands rubbing your arms to keep you warm.

“Breathe for me, Y/N. He He Hoo or whatever.” You follow the words and inhale two breaths sharply and exhale extendedly. “That’s it.”

Your vision starts to come into focus as you see Heeseung in front of you, his Bambi eyes soft as his thumbs rub circles into your upper arms, “Keep doing that for me, okay?” He’s always been so kind to you, that you want to cry and he notices, “Hey, look at me, Y/N. Tell me about that band you used to like way back when.” Heeseung is trying to distract you but your brain is fuzzy and tears are rolling down your face, “The one with that rapper Jaeyun was always jealous of because you had him as your lock screen?"

“Monsta X?” you breathe out and he smiles lightly.

“Yeah, tell me about them. Are they still together?” His hands leave your arms as he discards his jacket from his body and wraps it around you.

Nodding you start to answer his question, “Yeah, they’re still together.” You sniffle and feel your heart start to slow down and breathe at ease, “Most of them are in the military now.” Your lips naturally form into a pout as you think about your favourite band being separated, not being whole until 2027.

“Sucks doesn’t it? I felt the same about ONF.” He laughs and so do you, letting out a singular sob as you do so.

“I didn’t mean to come here, Hee. Her sister is my best friend.” His eyes go wide and then looks down, his hands finding their way to your knees.

“Y/N, you can’t be here. He finally moved on.” There is a pleading intertwined with sorrow in his voice and you slowly nod. “He’s happy.”

“Heeseung?” Jaeyun’s voice pierces through you, the warmth from Heeseung’s jacket becoming null as goosebumps prickle your skin. “Can I talk with her?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.” They’re talking like you aren’t even there and a part of this too yet your voice is too weak to speak up and share your thoughts. Tension is looming in the air as Heeseung gives the man you love a stern stare, but Jaeyun has always been stubborn when it comes to you. If he can’t talk to you now he will find a way. However, for now, at least, Jaeyun listens to his best man, and with one more glace to your fragile body he heads back to his party. It hurts him to see you like this, he wants nothing more than to swoop you up and take you in his arms like he used to all those years ago.

The party continues as you head back in making your way to the guest bedroom, giving excuses to those asking simply saying you’re tired from travelling. You miss him being yours. That was the real exhaustion.

________

The party ended a couple of hours ago, the once loud and busy foyer now dark as you tip-toe down the stairs, heedful to not wake anyone up. It’s 5 am when you awake dying of thirst and decide to leave the comfy double bed of the guest bedroom and get a glass of water. Looking around you see empty wine glasses, a few smashed ones lined up on the long table just beside the stair banister. It truly was a magnificent party and in any other circumstance, you would have had a great time. Yeoreum’s family is lovely and welcoming it’s no wonder they have so many friends, and no wonder Jaeyun fell in love with her and fit so perfectly as her soon-to-be husband.

A leak of light bleeds from the kitchen and you presume an under-unit lamp is still on but as your feet scuffle into the kitchen you see a broad back staring at you. Taking in the figure you notice their blue and yellow checked pajama bottoms and casual black t shirt evidently not intended to be worn together but clearly the first thing they could find.

A creak sounds from under you alerting them of your presence causing them to whip around. Jaeyun. One of his eyes was shut indicating he was not long up himself, his dark hair fluffy and tussled but still slightly in place due to the remnants of styling wax. He takes your breath away every time.

“Hi.” You whisper and make your way to the fridge. Heeseung was right, it wasn’t a good idea to speak to each other. When you saw Jaeyun again after all these years you thought he would be mad, scream at you to get out, seething in hate, but that was never who Jaeyun was. Instead, you felt his love shooting through you and that was the dangerous part.

“It’s late.” His eyes never leave you as he watches you pour a glass of filtered water.

“Or early.” You shrug and lean against the unit not daring to look at him. “I guess it depends on whether you went to sleep or not.” you mumble, small talk never being your thing.

Jaeyun still feels like he’s in a dream. Your presence is haunting yet he hasn’t felt more at home. Just the simplicity of you being in this kitchen is enough for him to experience contentment he hasn’t felt in years. Not since then.

“When did you get engaged?” The question punches him slap-bang in the middle of his chest, the wind escaping his body.

With his head hanging low and his middle finger tracing his coffee mug he muttered, “ A few months ago.” to which you nodded and pursed your lips. “What about you?” he questions back, “you seeing anyone?”

“No.” It’s sharp and direct but you don’t want to touch on the subject any further, you didn’t want to accidentally divulge that you couldn’t get over him, not when he was sitting afore you an engaged man. It’s embarrassing.

Jaeyun sucks in a breath and holds it as if he was going to say something but in his hesitance, you speak up again. “Eunseo, she’s my best friend.” giving the information as a way to explain why you’re here. “I didn’t know it was you getting married to Yeoreum, I promise.” Your eyes are begging for him to look at you so he can see the sincerity in your words but he never does, opting to just nod slowly. “I’ll make up an excuse to get out of here before the wedding.”

“Why did you leave, Y/N?” Jaeyun’s voice is soft but laced with hurt, “Tell me why because for 4 fucking years I still haven’t been able to figure it out.”

No words come out of your mouth, instead, you bite your lip trying to pluck up courage, suddenly the idea of him looking at you made you uncomfortable but of course, now his eyes are on you. “You owe me that much.”

“I-,” You place the glass of water down and grip the counter behind you tightly, “I…I didn’t get into any colleges that I applied for, none near Busan. Only one accepted me but it was a few hours away.” His eyebrows are crossed in confusion as he asks, “What do you mean? I thought you only applied for ones near Apollo. We had planned-”

“My grades weren’t good enough to get into any colleges in Busan.” There is a slight venom in your tone but it’s not directed at him but rather yourself. “If I had told you I wasn’t going with you, I was scared you would give up your dream school and just fuck it all off to be with me.” You finally look at him and the confusion is dispelling from his face as you continue, “You said it yourself, you would have gone anywhere if it meant being with me. I couldn’t ask you to do that. I would live with the guilt every day, watching you attend a subpar college all because of me. I loved you Jaeyun I couldn’t do that to you.”

Jaeyun doesn’t miss the past tense usage of ‘love’ but he rewinds, “So you left our relationship because…it would be long distance?”

“Jaeyun it wasn’t just that, I did think about long distance but I knew you would grow at college without me, i kept thinking about what you said. The whole slowly breaking away from each other because we become different people stuff got in my head and I couldn’t bear to slowly lose you, so I-”

“So you thought leaving me without a word was the right way to go? Y/N we could have worked it out, we would have figured out a solution.” Jaeyun stands up and walks over to you, “I didn’t mean to pressure you into moving, or applying for the same college, or fuck even making you doubt our chances at long distance.” His hand naturally caresses your cheek as you let a tear slip.

Shaking your head you look up at him, “I was stupid and I didn’t want you to worry about me, you already had so much going on between work and school. But look, you went to college and you grew up, look at what you have.” Your hands gesture upstairs to where Yeoreum sleeps peacefully unaware of what is transpiring in her parent’s kitchen.

“We could have had this Y/N. You could be the one I’m marrying if you just let me look after you like a boyfriend is supposed to if you trusted me enough.”

“I did trust you.”

“Not enough to tell me what was going on when I gave you that ring. Y/N-” He huffs out loudly and drags a hand through his hair. “That should have been your opening to talk to me about all this. I love you so much I would have made long-distance work.” His deep eyes are searching into yours. All these questions he has and you can’t answer or retaliate to any of them. “When I gave you that ring and made that promise to be yours forever I wasn’t fucking around okay? I meant it.” He lets out a dry laugh and takes your hands in his. “Baby, I love you.”

You stand too stunned to speak. Here Jaeyun was after all these years still hopelessly yours. An engaged Jaeyun was still in love with you. You want to let out a laugh of disbelief but you’re frozen. The room is silent except for the annoyingly loud hum of the refrigerator.

Jaeyun notices how your eyes fall to his lips as he licks them wet, taking the opportunity to lean forward just enough that his breath hits yours. If your lips touch you no doubt know you won’t ever let him go.

“Jaeyun…”

Footsteps are heard behind you both and you push Jaeyun away forcefully but despite the other presence making themselves known, his eyes never leave your tear-glassed ones. “Baby,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear but you shake your head and barge past him, head down so the other person doesn’t see you. “Y/N?” Jaeyun calls out, reckless abandonment is telling him to chase after you but as he feels an arm stopping him to a halt he looks up and sees Heeseung.

“Jake, don’t.”

________

Stirring in your sleep you groan as you hear a plethora of laughing coming from downstairs causing you to take the pillow from under you and suffocate your ears with it. After last night’s tragic events you just wanted to go home. Nothing would make you happier than to catch the first bus back to your flat and rewatch every episode of Fleabag to take your mind off of everything. Jaeyun was still in love with you and selfishly you hoped he hated you after what you did, that way your heart wouldn’t leap at every word he said.

Baby, I love you

You shake the thought away and give in, sitting up and looking around the room. Eunseo is gone, probably downstairs being the reason for everyone’s laughter you think to yourself. With a huff, you pull the covers off your body and immediately feel the cold breeze causing you to shiver. You don’t know if it's a coincidence or not but as goosebumps rise on your legs and arms, Jaeyun’s laugh is heard over everyone else. You missed his laugh so much, your heart had a shot of pain pierce come on so suddenly. There was a glimmer of sun outside that made your necklace sparkle as you proceeded for the door.

It was as if your ears could only hear Jaeyun as you walked quietly down the stairs. “If it’s Yeoreum making him laugh I might kill myself.” you mutter, pulling your hair up in a pony. It’s dramatic but right now you can’t face to see them in love, it hurts. You’re hurting.

“Y/N! You’re awake!” Euneo stands up and scurries to the kitchen, grabbing a plate for you, “Mum just made breakfast.”

“Hey! I helped.” Yeoreum faked offence which Eunseo simply rolled her eyes in response. She handed you the plate before you could tell her you weren’t hungry. “Sit down, Y/N, please.” Eunseo’s mum points to the empty chair at the comically large table, you suppose she does have a large family.

Luckily for you, the seat was situated far enough away from Jaeyun that you could avoid him, unfortunately, you couldn’t avoid his eyes burning holes into the side of your face. You ignore him and scan the feast of food before you and you wonder if this is what it was like for Annie in Parent Trap when Chessy made a buffet of all her favourites. “Eat up, Y/N, there is plenty here.” Yeoreum and Eunseo’s mum says.

“Thanks, Mrs. Son.” You pick up a few hash browns and start to eat one. That’s when you become aware of the enemy of all condiments, black pepper. It was a great tool in the kitchen, adding a little flavour and spice. Not for you though, the black powdered devil always makes your tongue itch. Who the fuck puts black pepper on hash browns? You think to yourself, face scrunching and teeth running along your tongue as you pour yourself a glass of water and take a huge swig. It does nothing at all so you go to excuse yourself to get a glass of juice or anything with taste but before you can there is a glass of apple juice placed beside you. Glancing up you see Jaeyun placing the cup with a knowing look on his face.

Of course, he knew. He knew everything about you and with the face you were pulling it was one he had seen too many times at restaurants.

“Why the fuck would they season their food with this, like, isn’t that what these are for?” You grabbed a pepper shaker and started waving it in his face. You had both gotten back from a day-turned-overnight trip to the beach and stopped off at a service station in the middle of nowhere, the diner was quaint with an American feel to it, undoubtedly your favourite kind.

“Princess I think your weird tongue is the only one that would complain.” Jaeyun laughed and swapped your eggs for his bacon. “There, now there is no pepper in sight.” He also passed over his apple juice with a bright smile.

“Take this.” His deep voice pulled you back to reality. Thanking him you take the cup and chug it quietly, but everyone's eyes are on you.

“You don’t like the food, Y/N?” Mrs. Son says not offended but certainly not pleased. Waving your hand quickly you swallow the liquid and explain, “No, it's lovely Mrs Son, me and pepper just don’t go well together.”

Yeoreum looks at Jaeyun with furrowed brows but doesn’t question it. There is a massive part of him that knows he should have left you to deal with it yourself so as to not raise suspicion but his instincts kicked in. He takes Yeoreum’s hand and kisses the back of it tenderly. It stings your heart.

“So,” Mr Son claps his hands diverting the attention to him, “I thought since the whole wedding party is here we should get to know each other. We will be family once Saturday passes after all.” A groan comes softly from your right and you turn to see Heeseung with his eyes shut.

“If he makes us play charades I’m passing my best man duties to literally anyone else.” He whispers to you which causes you to snort laugh and bite your mouth shut. You miss Heeseung’s smile as he watches you. He always did love you like a sister despite everything. He knew this situation wasn’t just hurting Jaeyun and after last night he was sure you were just as heartbroken as he was.

“We’re going to have a friendly game of football!”

“Dad, I can’t get bruised before my big day!” Yeoreum exclaims, her arms wrapped around her body to protect her from an imaginary ball flying at her. Jaeyun laughs and rubs her arms, “Reumie I don’t think your dad means you guys.”

Heeseung’s hand lands on your shoulder as you watch the loving act. They did look good together you couldn’t lie about that. Their energy matched, they would make the most beautiful children to ever walk this earth, and even their sense of style was similar - casual but fashionable.

“I was going to say 5 v 5, there are enough men here right?” Mr Son starts counting around the table as Heeseung slowly slides down the chair, his eyes hidden behind this hand as he pretends to rub his forehead.

“I thought you liked football, Hee?” You whisper but he shakes his head violently.

“Used to. I have since grown a great distaste for it, especially with Yeoreum’s cousins. They’re brutal and leave me bruised.” he mutters the last few words and you laugh leaning close.

“Aw is Hee scared of a little bruise.” He doesn’t appreciate your taunting yet he smiles and rolls his eyes. “You’re almost as good as Jaeyun, you can handle yourself I mean look.” You sneakily point to one of the cousins who is on his 3rd plate of food, “He’s going to be so full he can’t move, stick by him and you’ll look like Messi or something.”

Heeseung laughs out loud, “Oh! Heeseung I almost didn’t count you.” Mr Son claps, “That makes 10!”

Heeseung’s tongue pokes the side of his face as his rage-filled eyes look right into yours. You mouth a half-hearted ‘sorry’ and hold in a giggle. “I’ll kick the ball in your face.” He warns but you’re too busy chuckling to notice.

Eunseo’s eyes meet yours with her eyebrows raised. Giving her a confused look you knit your eyebrows together to ask her what that look on her face is for but she simply smirks and looks at Heeseung. Fuck. You forgot that was her favour to you, to set you up with the dishy best man. Oh if only she knew. You and Heeseung were so out of this world impossible that you had to fight to hold in your laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Heeseung whispers and his lips graze the shell of your ear. You quickly turn around and his face is incredibly close to yours. Eunseo must be loving this.

“Eunseo promised to set me up with the hot best man. That was my bribe to get me here.” A shallow laugh leaves his throat and he sits up, hands pointed to his chest.

“I am hot to be fair.” He jokingly smirks causing you to hit his chest playfully. “What? Do you not think so?”

“I know so. It’s just how cocky you are about it all,” Heeseung’s lips part to say something but you stop him, “If you’re going to make a joke about your dick I don’t want to hear it, Hee.” he shuts his mouth instantly. You missed this just as much as you missed Jaeyun. The banter between you and your friends is what kept you from losing your mind most of your high school days, and right now it’s taking your mind off this ridiculous situation.

“Eunseo tried it on with me once,” Heeseung says while eyeing her up and giving her a wave.

“But she acted like she didn’t know you? When she brought you up it was as if she had never met you.” He scoffs as you recall the conversation in the cafe.

“I rejected her, she’s not my type. Plus, she wanted double dates all the time, and don’t get me wrong I love Jake and Yeoreum but they’re insufferable. Kinda like you and hi-” He halts himself mid-sentence and looks at you apologetically. “Sorry.” You wave it off and pretend it doesn’t hurt you to hear before he continues, “I probably shouldn’t say this but if it’s any consolation, he isn’t half as infatuated with her as he was you.” It does bring some solace but you try not to let it sit in your mind too long.

“I’m not having a great time with it but at least he’s happy.” You mumble playing with your fingers and picking at the skin. Heeseung’s big hands encase your smaller ones as he squeezes them discreetly.

“You’ll always be his first love, just remember that. And who knows,” He leans back in his chair with that smug look on his face once again, “Your next love might be the hot best man.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose you can’t help but laugh again. “Heeseung please shut up.”

While you and Heeseung were talking, none of you noticed Jaeyun staring purposefully as if his eyes could pry you two apart. He wasn’t jealous, no, he was just wishing he was with you both like old times, laughing with you as if no time had passed. Yeoreum strokes his arm lightly and looks up at him. “Jakey, you okay?” to which Jaeyun hums and turns to her, kissing her forehead lightly. “Never better, Reumie.” Lies but as his lips touch her head he remembers last night and how his lips felt like they had found their way home.

“Okay! Let’s go and get ready for a full day ahead. The game starts in an hour.” Mr Son’s voice bellowed throughout the dining area.

“Come on,” Heeseung takes your hand and leads you to the kitchen, “You’re eating something before you’re tormented by the whole aunt brigade.” Heeseung’s always been so sweet. Whoever ties him down is going to be the luckiest girl in the world.

The game had been on for 20 minutes and you can’t escape the daggers coming from Mrs. Sim across the table. Of course she’s mad, you hurt her precious baby boy, you completely understand but that doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. She liked you a lot before everything went down, always treating you like her own but now it’s like her heart turned cold towards you, a contrast to her husband who seems to actually tolerate you enough to be civil. Meeting the Sim family again was beyond awkward but you were thankful none of them let on to the others about you and Jaeyun’s history.

“My Jakey is so good at football. He said he used to play in high school.” Yeoreum gushes, her hands clasped beside her cheeks as she watches her fiance on the garden lawn.

“Yeah, he was the captain in high school. Almost got a scholarship but he didn't want to do that professionally.” You say and sip at your white wine and lemonade top.

“How do you know he was captain?” The question comes from Eunseo and you nearly choke on the sweet wine. Shit

“Yes Y/N, how do you know?” Mrs. Sim quips and you want to die. You look over at the men on the field and panic trying to find any rhyme or reason you would know that information. Maybe I should put on a strip and join them, a ball to the face would be less painful.

“Oh, um, me and Jae- Jake spoke about it at the party. Getting to know him and all that.” your words are rushed and your hand reaches for the bottle to pour more wine. Admittedly, this is probably the last thing you should be doing, getting drunk and not running your mouth was never something that came easily. The party of girls nod and accept your answer. You need to be more careful. You don’t dare look at Mrs Sim with the fear of being obliterated on the spot.

“You got this, baby!” Yeoreum shouts loudly and gains the attention of Jaeyun, his smile bright as he waves, his eyes never leaving yours. You smile back and give him two thumbs up. He starts to wipe his face with the bottom of his t-shirt to gather the sweat. It gives you a peak of his lower abdomen and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.

The mind is a powerful tool and also your greatest enemy at the moment as you recollect every time you kissed down his stomach, sometimes leaving hickeys to mark him as yours. You remember how his jaw would slack open the lower you got, the moans that would fall from his lips as your tongue trailed from his belly button to the top of his boxer waistband. When his dick was pressed against that very stomach you would trace your fingers touching everything but his cock. You swallow hard, thighs clenching together, you can’t think these thoughts but fuck it was so easy.

Jaeyun notices your face change and smirks, biting his lip and ogling at your thighs rubbing against each other just like you used to when you were turned on by him. His eyes dart to his fiances but she seems unbothered by his act. Heeseung comes up behind him and wraps an arm over his shoulder. “Dude this is rough-” he pauses and follows Jaeyun’s eyes, “What you looking at? Yeoreum? Y/N?” he whispers only your name and it makes Jaeyun sigh.

“Let’s just get back to the game yeah? Sooner we beat these old men the sooner I can have a beer.” Heeseung laughs and claps his best friend’s back.

While you're zoning out, your best friend speaks up. “Heeseung looks good, huh Y/N?” Eunseo giggles and nudges your shoulder with hers. “I thought I saw him flirting with you earlier.” You laugh and shake your head dismissively.

“Nah he was just engaging in conversation.” Everyone is looking at you waiting for you to elaborate, “Oh, it was just usual chit-chat. Weather, work, small talk stuff.”

Eunseo doesn’t buy your chatter, she’s convinced after seeing you both this morning that you two will be the next wedding she attends. “Y/N, he was all over you at the table!” Eunseo chimes and tries to recreate the scene for the other girls at the table, “He was all like touchy, and your faces were like here!” Her nose brushes yours to which you laugh it off and push her lightly, shaking your head.

“Well I think you should try to speak to him more, he seems interested.” Yeoreum says and you try not to laugh in her face.

Mrs Sim snorts and sets her wine glass down. “Yeoreum, honey, Y/N isn’t his type. He likes classy girls, loyal girls with a good sense of worth.” Ouch. It was probably deserved but shit did that prick your heart. Eunseo looks at you confused but you shrug and don’t pay attention to it.

“Heeseung isn’t my type either.” you mutter. Yeoreum leans her elbow on the table and places her face in her palm as she asks, “What is your type then, Y/N?”

Jaeyun.

“Eh, I like guys who are sweet, um, they laugh at stupid jokes,” You start to look at Jaeyun as you continue, “I like when guys are attentive and know things about you that you don’t even really know yourself because they listen to every little thing you say.”

The girls around the table are gawking at you, “Y/N? Have you ever been in love? You must have been!” One of the bridesmaids asks excitedly. You shrug your head to the side and laugh.

“Once upon a time but that was forever ago.” You slyly look at Mrs. Sim and it was astronomically the worst decision. Her face was overcome with disgust.

Ironically, it’s Yeoreum asking the question now, “Tell us about it. Wasn’t he the ‘one’”. How do you say to her that your love, the one you want to spend forever with, is hers?

“I think he was but I was an idiot, too young to understand that we should have fought through our challenges rather than me running away from them.” The honesty in your voice is raw and you’re holding down the tears. One of the bridesmaids asks, “How do you know someone is the one?”

“J-” You almost say his name but smoothly continue without anyone noticing, “You know because there is an easiness in loving someone you know you're going to spend your life with. It comes naturally like breathing. There’s no trying to impress, no hiding parts of you. You both love each other like it’s the only thing you know how to do right. Even if you're apart, when you eventually come back together you slide right back into where you left off. Your love is infinite."

Yeoreum starts to cry "That’s like me and Jake." The crowd of girls hurry to her side and hug her as she sobs, encouragements from her party saying how they are ‘meant to be’ flood your ears. While they are distracted you wipe a tear, that’s when you feel a hand hold yours. Mrs Sim has a mournful look on her face, her thumb swiping over the back of your hand now seated next to you. Its unexpected but this is a step up from the hateful glares and you’re more than thankful.

Her eyes hold a love for you just like those years ago, maybe it took you explaining your feelings for her to truly understand how sorry you were about the whole situation, opening her up to forgive you even a little bit.

Yeoreum composes herself, fanning her face with her hands as everyone proceeds back to their seats, everyone except Mrs Sim who stays by your side, forcing Eunseo to move to the opposite end. “Thanks, girls. Ugh I just love him so much.”

Don’t ask it. Don’t ask it. Your brain is screaming to ask her the question that you know would set you off, “How did you two meet?” The words fall from your lips before you can catch them with your teeth.

A smile spreads widely across her face as her whole body turns to you. This is the first time you have properly examined her features and you wish you didn’t. Easily she is one of the most beautiful girls to ever exist, her small face but big features making her look otherworldly, her body is naturally slender, her black hair is long and sleek straight, her bangs fit around her face perfectly, her eyes gleamed with life and love. She was truly perfection. “We met at Apollo! You know the college in Busan?” Her eyes twinkle and you become jealous because in the past 4 years, your eyes have become dull and empty, “He was walking to class in the East block and I just thought he was the hottest guy I had ever seen.”

Mrs. Sim delicately squeezes your hand but doesn’t spare a glance. Despite her feelings for you, she knows this isn’t easy for you and she doesn’t envy you in this situation at all. “I just walked up to him and asked him out. He was so reluctant at first, saying he was still getting over his ex,” she smiles at the memory, “and let me tell you, after that night he probably didn’t think about her again.” Yeoreum smirked as the girls squealed.

“Yeoreum, as his mother I don’t need to hear this.” Mrs. Sim scoffs, her face slightly disgusted. The bride-to-be mouthed a quick sorry and continued, “We went totally casual for a while, but you know how things escalate, he was in love with me by like the third time I met him.”

You nodded at her as she continued to tell you about her romance with the love of your life and you feel your heart slide its way into the pit of your stomach. It's nauseating how he found a love and you couldn’t even face dating anyone. But you couldn’t be mad, of course not, because you did this.

“Y/N?” You look up to see Heeseung and Jaeyun, both of them with their eyes on you purposefully. Yeoreum grabs Jaeyun’s hands yet his eyes don’t leave your face. Heeseung’s voice continues, “Can I grab you for a minute? I got a-” he pauses to think of an excuse, “I need a second pair of hands to bring out more drinks, yeah?” His eyebrow raises at you to follow along to which you nod and stand up. Noticing Eunseo’s stares you shake your head and give her a small smile.

Heeseung’s fingers interlock with yours as he leads you away into the house and suddenly you feel like you can breathe again. “Y/N you okay? You looked like you were gonna throw up.” You look up at him, his 6”0 frame towering over you.

“I’m fine, just asking questions I know I shouldn’t.” You let out a half-hearted laugh and smile sheepishly at him, “It’s okay. How was the game?” Proceeding to the kitchen you open the fridge to pick up the jug of margarita Yeoreum and Eunseo had lovingly made with way too much spirit and minimal mixers.

“I still hate you for getting me caught, but we beat them so,” He shrugs and reaches from behind you to grab a six-pack of Peroni, “Wasn’t as eventful as your time at the interrogation table. I saw them all grilling you.” You snicker and disagree.

“Nah, they were just asking about my life, the usual.” It wasn’t the full truth but it wasn’t a lie either.

Heeseung moves from behind you and leans against the kitchen island, one foot propped up on the base of the counter, swinging the beers between his legs. “How was Mrs. Sim? That must have been hard, I could feel her ice-cold stare from the other end of the garden.” He opens up the packet of 6 and hands you one, “Open this for me?” You nod and take it from him, setting the jug down to pop open the lid with the edge of the unit before giving it back to him.

“I thought I was going to die I can’t lie, but then she was okay, I think?” You question the interaction in your head, “She was nicer to me as the afternoon went on, but I think it was pity.” Heeseung brings the bottle to his lips and sips the cold beer and his eyebrows lifted.

“I don’t think It would be pity, you know she loved you more than Jake, at least that’s what he always thought." He pauses and takes a sip from his bottle before dramatically pulling it from his lips and pointing towards you, "Fuck, didn’t she have your wedding dress practically paid for?”

This was news to you and Heeseung guessed as much by the look on your face, “You didn’t know? She always went about how she had a separate savings account for you and Jake’s wedding. I think she still has it.”

You look at him quizically, “Wait, why would she still have it? Surely she would have put it to this wedding.” You search for a glass to pour the margarita into and wait for Heeseung to respond.

“Nah, they didn’t pay a penny for this. They don’t want him to marry her.”

“WHAT?!” You exclaim and turn around bug-eyed and mouth open, “What do you mean? His dad was saying all that nice stuff at the toast, and his mum looked like she was bursting with pride when Yeoreum was talking about Jake.”

There was a silence in the air as Heeseung stepped forward and grabbed your shoulders, “They like her, but babe she isn’t you. Mr. and Mrs. Sim know Jake doesn-, you know what I shouldn’t be saying anything.” You plead with him to continue, gripping his hands that are placed on you, “Hee, please, Jake doesn’t what?”

Just as Heeseung is about to divulge very useful information, Eunseo walks in with her hands up, “Ignore me, love birds, just came to get the jug of fun,” she spots it behind you and points, “Can you grab me that please?”

Stepping back, Heeseung grabs the jug and hands it to Eunseo, “We were just coming out anyway, right angel.”

Oh, you were going to murder him. His face smug and Eunseo’s mouth breaking into a large smile, you grab your glass and head out with them, Heeseung’s hands on your hips and lips to your ear, “Let me give her what she wants.” You turn around, eyes scolding him.

“Don’t even think about it, and don’t think I’ll let our little conversation go either.” As you walk and warn Heeseung, you’re already outside, a pair of usually wide, bright eyes, now thin as they watch you and his best friend joke around.

Jaeyun is seething.

#jake x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #jake sim ff #aj writes #this doesnt really have smut in it but whatever #i also did write like a good 1/3 of this drunk a while back so if I start to not make sense just ignore it lmao

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

Text

Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn��t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

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