#and if he can just FOCUS then he can write a new love song that's going to knock everyone's socks off
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OLD GRUDGES (part 1)
A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.
Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar.
And that person is music producer, Y/N.
The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved.
Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again.
Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.
“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”
Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.
It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.
She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.
“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.
But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief.
He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.
Return what he was getting.
Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.
And going against each other became their thing.
They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.
“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.
Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it.
“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”
“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say.
She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.
Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him.
Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery.
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.
“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it.
He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what.
His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension.
An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face.
Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.
“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”
Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…
Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him.
“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack.
When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…
“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.
“You weren’t here when I went out.”
“But you knew I was coming.”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.
It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.
It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.
He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading.
That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.
Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry.
Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.
“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.
She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin.
He has to fight the urge to touch her.
Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.
Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.
Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him.
“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence.
“Hey. Long time no see.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind.
Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?
“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind.
“You sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.
“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”
“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout.
He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best.
Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go.
The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.
Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had.
He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people while enjoying how under the radar he is currently.
The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her.
Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him.
From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.
Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her.
She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.
As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance.
“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him.
They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.
“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.
“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.
“Have you tried to put it down fully?”
“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way.
“What?”
“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”
“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”
She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.
It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms.
“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.
“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”
“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time.
“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”
She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.
But then it all changes.
If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already.
Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body.
He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing.
Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it.
It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle.
The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes.
They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.
“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.
He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air.
“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.
“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”
Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”
“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall.
This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.
A stupid, giant one.
NEXT PART
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut
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GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2
pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader
drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.
notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.
disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)
masterlist ⋆ previously
yourusername
liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others
yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3
View all 22,504 comments
yourbestie STUNNING
user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭
↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo
↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him
↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA
user love u more than anything
user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together
↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point
↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens
user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍
user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..
thetodayshow
liked by landonorris and 67,298 others
thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡
We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”
Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!
View all 342 comments
user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.
user some of those questions were a bit invasive
↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally
user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭
user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando
↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹
↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview
↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??
↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”
↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡
user y/n handled the situation perfectly
↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy
user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW
ynupdates
41,086 likes
ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!
View all 462 comments
user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭
user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS
user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys
user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭
↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early
↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama
user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?
↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead
kymillman
51,159 likes
kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE
The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.
For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com
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user omg it’s happening it’s happening
user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER
user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is
user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭
user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔
user the hand holding 🥹🥹
user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n
user damn god really out here choosing favorites
user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much
landonorris
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others
landonorris Singapore 🥈
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user so proud of you lando!!
user AHHHH y/n cameo
user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando
user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD
user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹
— — —
8 months later
landonorris
liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others
landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️
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yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips
↳ landonorris 😐
user they're the reason i believe in love
user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo
user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭
user luckiest man alive i stg
user how does she always look so good
yourusername
liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others
yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you
View all 35,719 comments
landonorris that guy's pretty handsome
↳ yourusername very :)
yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy
user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year
user might sleep on the freeway today
user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone
user LOL not the third pic
user i love them so much 🥹
user if you ever break up, love isn't real
#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 imagine#f1 social media au#lando norris au#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#singer!reader#lando norris instagram au
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Love Machine.
Android! Leon Kennedy X Fem! Reader (smut)
A/N: I got this idea while listening to a song with the same title. This was my first time writing for Leon, I hope it isn't too clunky or too short! I am slowly coming out of my hiatus, so my writing skills are a bit rusty, I need you all to give me a little grace for the next few posts in case they aren't great LOL. Love you all so much, thanks for your support!
Part Two: Here
Wordcount: 2.4K
Tags: sex doll/living sex robot (?), sex toys, oral (fem receiving), reader is called things like "pretty girl", p in v, creampie (but not really because he's a sex doll??), unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play
“Welcome in, can I help you find anything?”
(Y/N) gave the cashier a polite smile and shook her head as she walked past him at the check-out desk, trying to be as non-awkward as possible, especially since she was the only customer in the small store at that time of night. It was an in and out trip, she tried to convince herself of that. She needed something small, just enough to get the job done.
Normally, she would’ve waited until the next day to run an errand like this, but days of stress had left her needy and frustrated, so when her trusty wand finally gave out on her mid-fun, she grabbed her car keys and headed out into the night.
Her eyes scanned the wall of toys in the back of the store. Pink and purple covered the shelves, vibrating toys and dildos being her main focus.
“Mini-vibe, bullet vibe,” she mumbled, squatting down to read the boxes on the lower shelves. “What’s even the difference–?”
She settled on a purple rabbit vibrator. Its packaging was the least indicative of its contents, and it was on the smaller side. Easy to hide.
“Will that be all?” the cashier asked, looking over the box.
“Yeah, that should be it.”
“You know,” he said, giving her a wide grin, “I can’t say I can suggest this one.” He held the box back out to her, waiting for her to take it. “We’ve gotten a lot of refunded purchases due to it.”
“Oh, shit, really?” (Y/N) took the box back, tucking it under her arm. “Okay, uh, I guess I should ask what the best option would be, then?”
The cashier gave a nod and waved her over, lifting the divider between behind the counter and the rest of the store. “Come with me to the back, we’ve got all the good stuff tucked away back there.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking about whether or not to follow him. She didn’t immediately catch any red flags in his behavior: he was polite enough, no major creep-vibes. (Y/N) finally walked past the open divider and followed him into the stock room.
“So, over here,” he said, waving his hand over a heavily stocked shelf, “is all the high-powered stuff. These over here have a high-customization level, lingerie over here, and over here ....”
The man continued to go over the ‘hidden’ options in the store, but (Y/N)’s eyes traveled over to a large, sheet-covered box.
“Hey, what’s that over there?” she asked, pointing at the box.
“Oh, that? That’s new, uhm, probably a little out of your comfort zone, though, he’s a little advanced.”
“He?”
The cashier sighed and stepped up to the box, gripping the corner of the sheet. “It’s—it’s a long story, but, here, have a look.”
He pulled the sheet down, dropping it to the cement floors of the room.
“What the fuck is that?!”
A blond man stood in the plain box, the only adornment on the cardboard being his name in bolded letters: Leon. His eyes were closed, his hands sat idly beside his sides, and his body stood bare before them both.
“His name is Leon, he’s a prototype for a new line of responsive sex dolls. I mean, most of the bugs are out of the system, he’s not faulty or anything.”
(Y/N) walked up to the box and scratched the cellophane covering, trying to get his attention. “Is he awake? Or on, I guess?”
“Nah, he has to be set up, there’s a manual in the box, I think,” the man replied, bending down to pick the sheet back up to throw over Leon’s box. Just as he began to shake the sheet off, clearing the residual dirt off of it, (Y/N) spoke again.
“How much for him?”
She mentally smacked herself for asking. There was no doubt he was expensive, hell, he probably wasn’t even up for sale.
“You want him?” He raised his eyebrow, looking the girl up and down, confusion painting his features.
“I– I don’t know, can I have him? How much?”
He crossed his arms for a moment, thinking. “He’s not for sale, per se, but– so, listen, okay?”
“Yeah?”
“You can have him for free, okay? But if you aren’t satisfied with him, you can’t bring him back here, you’re stuck with ‘em.” He held his hand out expectantly. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she said, taking his hand quickly, giving it a few affirming shakes.
The boxcutter in her hand worked quickly, slicing open the cellophane. (Y/N) bunched up the plastic and threw it to a random corner in her bedroom, turning back to face Leon. She gave him a testing poke, and when he didn’t respond she turned that poke into a gentle tapping on the side of his face.
“Leon?” The name felt like acid on her tongue, guilt already creeping through her. “Wake up.”
She dropped her hand from his face and guided it further down his chest. The synthetic skin felt real, almost in an uncanny way. He was warm to the touch, not plastic-y and cold like how she assumed other sex dolls felt.
“Come on, big boy.” she muttered, pulling Leon’s large, heavy body out of the box and placing him on his feet near her bed. “Where’s your–? Oh, got it.” (Y/N) snatched the instruction manual from the box. The print was foggy, and some words were horribly misspelled, but she flipped through the pages and located the directions page. She read the page to herself quietly. “I am Leon, your AI-powered male sex doll. The setup process of a Leon doll is extremely easy. To turn me on, just set my dial. After that, just sit back and let me love you for a little while!”
(Y/N) walked a small circle around him in search of his ‘on-switch.’ She found it right on the back of his neck, almost hidden by his swoop of blond hair. On the silver dial sat three options: Off, gentle, and rough. A hand rose and ticked the dial to gentle. She stepped away from him quickly after hitting the switch, nervous to see what would happen.
His eyes opened slowly, and a weak blue light beamed from them, scanning outwards before shutting off completely. A grin slowly spread across Leon’s all-too-real features as he powered on.
“Hey there, pretty girl,” he said, standing still in her room, only moving his head to face her. “Looks like you could use some company.”
“Uh, hello.” Her mouth was dry as she spoke, feeling like she made a bad decision the second he had snapped to life.
“Hm, why don’t you come closer to me? I don’t bite,” Leon paused before cheekily adding “unless you want me to.” He took her in his arms and let his eyes drift down her body. He eased her shirt over her head and tried to undo the clasps of her bra.
“What are you doing?” She tried to pull away but he held her in place.
“You have all your clothes, but I’m exposed over here. That’s not so fair, is it?” He looked down at his hardened length, ushering her to look down with him.
Her eyes widened a bit. “When did you even get hard–?”
“I’m always hard around pretty girls like you.” He slipped off her bra and groped her breasts with his large, somewhat calloused hands. “Look at these, baby. You have pretty tits, and a pretty face, huh?”
A hum left her throat as she felt his head dip down and take one of her swollen nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over the bud, latching on to properly suck it after a few teasing moments. She ran her hands through his hair and gripped onto it tightly, whining at the feeling of his mouth popping off of her tit.
“Bet you’re getting wet from this, aren’t you?” His voice was airy and muffled while he spoke. He left open mouthed licks over her pebbled nipples, grazing over them with his tongue’s warmth.
She gave a weak nod in return.
“Mm, maybe I should take care of that,” he chuckled lightly and lowered himself to his knees. “Gonna let me take these off you?” He tugged at the waistband of her shorts.
“G’head,” (Y/N) said, feeling her thighs rub against each other impatiently.
He pulled them down to her ankles and she stepped out of them, leaving her in just her panties. She shuddered at the feeling of his tongue darting across the cotton covering her wet center. Again, Leon laughed a bit at her reaction and licked a heavier stripe against the fabric. When he was rewarded with a gasp from her open mouth, he pulled the panties to the side and pressed his tongue at her slit.
“F–Fuck, that feels good,” she whined, hand still messily buried in his hair.
Leon kept his eyes on her the whole time, not letting a moment pass where his blue irises weren’t piercing hers.
His tongue dipped out of her entrance and moved up to her clit. He fidgeted with it, trying to see which motion worked best on her, and settled on a circular movement. The longer he sat slotted between her thighs, her knees thrown over his shoulders, the more frequently he felt her cunt jump from pleasure. He placed his tongue hard on her clit, giving it rough, pressured licks.
“Almost there, I’m close,” (Y/N) said, feeling a coil form in her stomach. She had felt this with other toys, but by far, Leon was the best at the job. “Don’t stop,” she hummed, voice catching in her throat while he moved his head side to side, dragging his mouth sloppily over her cunt.
A string of profanities escaped her mouth when she felt her orgasm hit. A sputtering wave of warmth flushed through her body, her pussy clenching around nothing.
“That’s it, good job,” Leon cooed. He held his hand up to her face expectantly. “Spit.”
Her mind already felt melted, like it could’ve oozed out of her brain at any minute. She mindlessly complied with him, spitting onto his lengthy fingers.
“Ah–! S’too much, Leon.”
“No, no, you can take it. I’ll be gentle, I know you want another one,” he said with a slightly mocking tone. “Greedy girl needs something to fill her up.” Plunging his fingers into her pussy, he groaned at the feeling of her slick walls still fluttering. “Y’haven’t even recovered from the first one, but I’m gonna give you another one,” he said, curling his fingers, “gonna be twice as strong.”
“Fuck, it’s too much,” (Y/N) knew her sobs of pleasure were pathetic sounding, but she couldn’t muster anything else up as she tried to push his wrist down and away, not being able to stand the feeling of his two fingers prodding at her most sensitive spot.
“Don’t fight it,” he warned, “not when you’re so close. Yeah, I feel you getting all tight on me. Mm, you’re gonna love how it feels, it only gets better from here, pretty girl.”
Leon became more aggressive with his movement, moving his whole arm as his fingers jammed in and out of her. (Y/N) was lost in her ecstasy. Her hands shook and flew aimlessly before taking purchase of Leon’s shoulders and holding onto them, nails digging into the skin.
Her second release, as promised, was much stronger. Her legs clamped around him, her moans came out in long, shaky intervals, and her brain was mush. She couldn’t force herself to focus on anything but the cum dripping out of her cunt and down Leon’s fingers and forearm. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling even the dim light of her bedroom to be too much for her now fucked-out, slutty head to handle.
She hardly noticed when he had placed on her back in the bed with her legs spread. Not until he guided his cock across her folds, tapping the head of it against her swollen, abused clit.
“More?” she asked, voice breaking and weak. “Can’t take it ‘nymore.”
“C’mon, sweet thing, you can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more?” He whispered into her ear, slowly pushing into her, holding himself back.
“Jus’ one? No more after that?”
“Mhm, just one.” Leon bottomed out and stretched her walls with his girth. The tip of his cock gave sweet, shallow kisses to her cervix’s tip, gently pressing into it with each thrust. His hips rocked into her, but he felt his dick being forced out of her walls, pushed out of her heat. “Even after all that, still tight f’me.” He slid back in, rougher this time, trying to keep himself inside. “Need somethin’ to stretch you out, baby. Good thing y’got me now.”
His hands were placed under her knees, scooping and holding them apart while he fucked her. He slowly transitioned from fucking and burrying his cock into her, to bringing her body forward, bouncing her on his cock.
“Leon—”
“Hush, now, you’re okay. Mm,” he wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth, “look at how you take it. It’s like you were made to be used like this, sweet girl. Maybe you’d be better off as a toy.”
She moaned at this, feeling her cunt twitch at his words.
“Yeah? You like that?” Leon’s eyebrow raised at her a bit, teeth barring in smirk. “You like being a little toy. Being– oh, fuck, you’re enjoying this so much. Your pretty little face...”
(Y/N) threw her arms over his neck, pulling him closer to her body. Their chests pressed together, her sweat slick between them both. “God, Leon, please!”
Leon pressed his mouth on her to quiet her down, swallowing her moans as their tongues and teeth gnashed against each other. He winced as (Y/N) bit down on his lip, choking back her sobs when she clamped down on his cock. Taking this as a sign, Leon emptied his thick, synthetic cum into her.
Once he pulled out, a mixture of both of their cum pumped out, gushing and wetting in between her thighs.
“Good job, baby,” he said, stroking her face, grinning at the warmth of her cheek. “You did so well, getting all cockdrunk for me. To think I was being gentle. Wanna try my rough mode out for size?” He joked, letting his hand grip her hip.
“Goodnight, Leon,” she responded, unimpressed at his teasing and tired from what he had done to her. She brought her hand to the back of his neck and turned his dial to ‘off.'
#barleyxnighteye#fanfiction#smutfic#smut#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#fanfic#leon kennedy x y/n#x reader#smut fanfiction#resident evil x reader#leon scott kennedy#alternate universe
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means something
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your best friend stopped talking to you suddenly but you need one last chance at closure
warnings: angst lol
a/n: short and sweet (and sad) but i had fun writing it. alsoooo it’s based on the song but you don’t need the song playing in the background bc the pacing is different
love, sienna <3
you let out a defeated sigh as you focus your attention on a blank sheet of paper. it was supposed to be easy now, easier to let out your thoughts and begin to reconstruct your views on the situations that bring you sadness. at least that’s what your therapist advised you.
but instead you have nothing but small doodles of hearts on the top of the paper, serving as nothing but a sad reminder of your own life and how it lacks the love you always read about.
‘hopeless romantic’ used to feel like the wrong word, because there was a point where you had hope for a story like you see in the movies. a classic romantic comedy plot line was one you had always yearned for.
it’s silly how badly you’ve wanted it. you know you’re a complete person without it, you have strengths and aspirations and you cannot base your worth onto stupid boys.
but he wasn’t stupid. not in the slightest, regardless of what others said about him.
he was thoughtful and caring in ways no one else has been to you. never in your life have you seen someone so in touch with their own emotions at that level.
that’s because he’s special. to you and to so many other people.
April 17th, 2022
dear Matt,
i’m not entirely sure how to do this whole thing but it’s a step in healing that i’m more than inclined to take. part of me just really wants to get better so i have to do something to help me.
it might seem really random that i’m mailing you a letter, and trust me i understand how odd it is. but for once i needed you to hear me, and i can’t really send this message to a blocked number.
i can’t see anything in life without thinking of you. i saw a street sign the other day and i had to squint because, for a moment i thought i saw your last name plastered on the plastic. and i thought that it meant something. like the universe was trying to tell me something.
how pathetic is that? you know i can’t even have most of my favourite snacks anymore because they were our favourite snacks. the new foods you introduced me to when i forced you to watch ‘to all the boys i’ve loved before’ with me in middle school are practically forbidden from my apartment.
“this is the dumbest movie concept ever” Matt speaks, an annoyed undertone to his voice as he looks to me.
“you haven’t even watched it yet how can it be dumb? you know you might end up enjoying it if you watch it with an open mind” i reply, snuggling into his arm as my body rests on the soft couch cushion.
it definitely doesn’t take long for him to become invested.
“wait someone sent the letters?”
“why is she kissing him? doesn’t she like margo’s boyfriend?”
“damn they’re really just making out in a public hot tub”
the movie comes to a close, a cute song playing as the credits roll. “so, what did you think?”
“i think that i really like root beer and i really need the second movie now” he exclaims, sipping his bubbly liquid before looking down at me with the same blue eyes that can easily make me dizzy.
“i thought you’d come around Matt”
now i’m just a girl getting sad over a canned soda and a familiar brand of chips because it reminds me of all the good that once was.
along with this, i know everything about you.
i know your zodiac sign, me and leo’s are really compatible, which i never failed to mention to you despite how little you believe in astrology.
i can’t lie, the amount of silly little compatibility quizzes i took throughout middle school with our names punched in was a bit excessive, but every time without fail i would get the answers i had hoped for. and i thought that meant something.
i know how hard it was growing up for you. but i was there for you when you needed someone to force you to go to school in the morning, or when you needed help ordering food at the gas station across the street.
i used to think we were soulmates. not always romantic, but we just understood each other so well and i considered it to be sacred.
whenever i went through my own shit you were there for me. it was always so easy. knowing that if i had a bad day i had someone to go to who would listen with open ears… i guess it’s just been hard to live without that.
“Matt why did he break up with me? am i that unlovable?” i cry out, my head buried in matt’s chest as he rubs small circles on the back of my head.
he just pulls my head off of him, hands placed on either cheek as he looks at me. “i don’t think there is anyone on this planet that is more lovable than you”
i sniffle, trying my best to suppress the numerous tears that want nothing more than to escape my eyes. “so why did he break up with me out of the blue? after eight months why did he just decide he’s done with me?”
“because he’s an idiot who doesn’t understand the girl he just lost”
i cried for hours that night when my boyfriend broke up with me, and i know you remember. the next morning i woke up in your arms and i immediately felt guilty for keeping you up so late with my sob stories, but you didn’t care.
you said you wanted what’s best for me and you would make it your life’s goal to make me happy. and then you had the audacity to run your fingers through my hair as i thought about what to do next. that along with the constant reminders of how much i deserved love, that it was a definite thing for me.
how is that okay? do you not see how that was so completely confusing? did it mean absolutely nothing?
i haven’t kissed many people in my life, something Chris loved to tease me about. what he doesn’t know is that you were my first.
we never talked about it. maybe that was for the best, because every time i see a picture of you all i can think about is how good your lips felt on mine.
“i can’t just kiss you!” i laugh out, taking another swig of my drink before wiping my lips and looking back at the boy who has a serious expression resting on his face.
“sure you can. i don’t want jack to have an unfortunate ending to your guys’ date if u end up like… licking his bottom lip or some shit” he argues, holding his own drink in his own hand but keeping his attention solely on me.
“you’re just saying that because you’re drunk”
“maybe” he replies, sensing my hesitance. “is the idea of kissing me that bad?”
“no! no of course not, i just don’t wanna make it weird between us” i say, suddenly feeling a pool of anxiety form in my stomach.
but then, before i could form another overwhelming thought you just kissed me. just like that your lips were attached to mine and everything felt okay.
it was short lived, although i know i could have been like that forever. “nothing could ever make things weird between us, promise”
it’s funny isn’t it? how many times we assured each other that our friendship was solid, unbreakable.
i think the worst part is the not knowing. there’s nothing to comfort me with.
you left one day and you simply never spoke to me again. was it my fault? was it something i said?
i can’t help but wonder if the reason you cut it off is because you noticed all the small glances i would take in your direction. or if you noticed that the reason why i love romance books so much is because i imagine we’re the main characters.
that’s the thing though, i’ll never know. i feel less like myself without you, but maybe that’s part of growing up.
i have to learn what my own favourite snacks are and i can’t reply on you to have my back when i get my heart broken. instead i’ll be crying in an empty bed wondering what could’ve happened differently.
this wasn’t supposed to be a long letter but i promise it’s the only one you’ll be getting from me because i have to do the same as you, i have to move on.
i just have one question for you.
did all of this mean something to you? like really mean something to you in the way that i interpreted it.
i’ve wondered if i was delusional when i caught you staring at me from across the classroom, or when i found those compatibility tests in your search history.
but the kiss? drunk or not i thought something was there, with you or with us or whatever else. i didn’t think i was just another girl that Matt Sturniolo kisses and then forgets about but that’s exactly what i became.
anyways, i hope this letter finds you well. i had to ask Nate for your address but please don’t get mad at him. you know how stubborn i am when i want something and he tried to say no.
i guess i just love you, and i’m trying my best to make that sentence into past tense.
thanks for listening, y/n.
you grab an envelope that resides on the edge of your desk and open it up. folding up your letter and placing it gently inside before licking the tip of the envelope and closing it.
it all feels metaphorical. pouring your heart out just for it to get concealed by a thin piece of paper and shipped away.
regardless, you breathe out, standing up and making your way over to the garage to start your car. if you don’t do it know you won’t do it at all, and you need him to hear you.
a/n: if u want a part 2 you might get one maybe… we’ll see what i’m feeling anyways hope you enjoyed this blurb
taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius @sugrhigh @jnkvivi @sturnsmia
#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo oneshots#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#Spotify
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I think Hobie brown is the one character I've seen written completely out of character the most
Like, he would NOT say that
He definitely is. I see people write Miles and Gwen as spot on (pun unintended). Miguel and Pavitr are usually butchered for linguistics reasons
But with Hobie, him being a punk - one from a very specific time - adds a whole new layer of difficultly and honestly. At this point, I can't even blame people.
I think Hobie's mischaracterization is caused by two primary things, one purposeful, and one not. Please allow me to rant.
Hobie Brown, Mischaracterization, and the Sanitization of Punk Culture
I think Hobie's characterization is the perfect example of the way media purposely deminished and trivialized the punk identity in order to erase it's political connotations.
In other words, people misunderstanding Hobie shows how the media warped and censored the definition of 'punk' in the last 50 years.
And that's on purpose.
Let's take the hippies for an example. When you think of them, what beliefs comes to mind?
Peacefulness, usually. Pot smoking. Music loving. And Anti-war. They love peace. The phrase 'Make Love, Not War' make come to mind.
But it's easier for the media to historically display hippies as people who were opposed to war - rather than people who were openly oppossed to the Vietnamese War.
As in, they weren't just opposed to war - which they were. They were also specifically opposed to the United States government crossing borders in order to push a capitalist agenda in Vietnam.
It's easy to say hippes loved communes - then to say 'Hippies were Communist'. With a couple words switched around - sanitization.
Punk is just like that.
It's easier to focus on the response rather than the source. It's easier to look at Hobie singing than to consider what he'd be singing about in those songs.
I feel like in the past 50 years the media has purposely centered the outrage of punk around music - as a targeted distraction, and a method of silencing. This goes from the outward hatred of Sex Pistols - to a President's wife literally taking a metal band to court in order to get the 'Explicit Content label' instated for the first time.(crazyyyy long story- crazy interesting. Google 'Mary Gore vs Twister Sister' - the videos of the band in court is hilarious)
But anyway the outrage of punk music in specific and the silencing of the message behind it kinda changed the way people viewed punks.
Media very much wanted to make punk something about senseless rebellion towards everything, the same way they tried to turn anarchy into 'unending chaos that never stops', when neither of those things are true.
Basically saying 'Oh, those people over there? They aren't angry oppressed people screaming and forming a community based around resilience, those are teeennagerrs. theyre just screaming cause theyre mad at their dads or something PLEASE dont look at them PLEASE PLEASE DO NOT CHECK IF WE'RE TELLING THE TRUTH'
And so people are presented with someone like Hobie, they see the loud music, but not picking up what he's saying if you get my drift.
And the other thing I'll try to keep short.
It's not purposeful, but I think it matters.
The Internet - Subculture vs Aesthetic
I don't think this is something that's been talked about yet.
But I feel like a lot of people misunderstand what a subculture is. So when they see Hobie, they see fashion, and music taste, and attitude. They instead perceive him as an aesthetic. Not someone who participates in subculture.
Subculture is a way of life. It encompasses not only your fashion and music tastes, but it can and usually extends to things like your morals, your behaviors, the spaces you exist in, etc.
Goth, Punk, Vegans, hell - even Nudists - are all subcultures. Because they effects the persons lifestyle. Subcultures are lifestyles.
Aesthetics are not.
An aesthetic is a (usually) visual ambience that is meant to evoke a specific emotion.
Aesthetics can extend to fashion, decor, and music taste - but not your morality or behavior.
E-girls, Emos, Hipsters, what have you - all aesthetics as they do not encompass morals, or behaviors.
And because of that - there are things that do or don't make you a punk. But there aren't really things that do or don't 'make you emo'.
Aesthetics don't have conditions, but subcultures do.
You have to be anti-government to be punk. You don't have to hate your life to be emo.
(Which is why when people bring this up, people are quick to call 'gatekeeping!' Because in the context of aethetics gatekeeping is seen as unneccesary, whereas in subcultures 'gatekeping' is more so protecting the underlying beliefs and motivations of the movement. People who see Hobie as an aesthetic will find these conditions odd because they're not seeing his punkness as a subculture.)
Today on the internet, it's a lot more common and easy to engage in an aesthetic. It's not uncommon for someone to purposefully pick an aesthetic - and go all out - simply because they like it. It's great. I engage with an aesthetic all the time.
But because of that, when people see Hobie it's easy to immediately be like 'oh okay hes doing it out of fashion hes doing it because he vibes with it cool.'
They look at Hobie the way they would look at an eboy (do those still exist).
______________________________________________
Sooo mixing the censored image of a punk along with the modern-day instinct to perceive something as an aesthetic rather than a way of life kinda causes.....this.
A Hobie tag were a lot of people completely misunderstand who he is as a person and his motivations as a superhero outside of 'I hate the establishment'.
Plus add in a dash of people just being totally blank on 70's politics. The Vietnam War, Margaret Thatcher coming to power, the IRA, etc. - all of those things I think tells us a lot about Hobie. I'm currently on a piece about that and an explainer of most of those events. Or if you want a brief rundown please feel free to ask, I'll do my best.
If you wanna know Hobie more - don't listen to punk music. Go read the lyrics, if you get what I mean. They truly do have something to say.
Hope this made some sense, thanks for reading if you made it this far :) also no proofread we die like kings but ill most likely do it later and delete this note.
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Important
genre: fluff, angst, established relationship
pairing: idol!Jihoon x reader
summary: Jihoon is a busy guy, everyone knows that. But why does it hurt so much when he can't even make time for his own girlfriend? All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so difficult?
warnings: a bit of swearing
note: This fic includes some lyrics from the song All My Love by SEVENTEEN (If you haven't heard this song, I strongly recommend you listen to it. It's such a good song!!) I hope you enjoy reading the fic <33
"Am I really that important to you?"
There's tears in your eyes when you ask Jihoon the question you've been wondering about for the past few weeks.
Part of you knows you're just being irrational. Jihoon has other things he needs to focus on. He's an idol and a producer for fucks sake, it's practically guaranteed that he's going to be busy with work 24/7. So it's unrealistic for you to expect him to be able to make time for you whenever you feel the need for some company.
But the other part of you feels lonely. Coming home everyday to the sight of an empty apartment without Jihoon isn't exactly the most uplifting sight to see. And even when Jihoon on the rare occasion, does come home, all you are able to see is his passed out figure before he leaves in the morning while you still sleep.
All you want is Jihoon's love and affection, why is that so hard?
You receive your answer to that very question in the way Jihoon sits in a distracted silence when he hears your question. His eyes looking at his computer in a daze, too busy thinking up of ideas for new songs to produce rather than looking at the way you're about to burst into tears.
"Fine. If you can't even give me one second of your time and focus I'm going to leave," you yell angrily as more tears spring into your eyes. You quickly stand up from your position on Jihoon's couch and exit his studio, slamming the door behind you.
"WAI-" Jihoon starts to shout, finally finding his voice. His eyes widen while his hand is outstretched toward the direction of his door as if it's going to make you come back.
But it's too late.
You're gone.
Jihoon knows he fucked up.
More than that actually.
He knows that it's his fault your relationship with him feels so one-sided. He has a habit of overworking himself. Oftentimes minutes in the studio turning into hours before turning into days of being cooped up producing songs, causing him to neglect the very people he wants to spend all his time with.
Jihoon wishes he could tell you how much he loves you, that he's not trying to neglect you on purpose. He just sometimes gets caught up in his work and doesn't realize when it's time to take a break. He wishes he could tell you that he misses you as much as you miss him, even though he doesn't show it.
But now he has no idea what he could possibly do to solve the predicament he's in. Jihoon could talk with you, but he knows he's not the best with confrontation. Jihoon could give you a few days of space, but he knows that it's probably not the best choice since the whole reason you got mad was because Jihoon wasn't around you enough.
So, Jihoon turns to what he's best at doing. What he does when he doesn't have a clue on what to do.
Songwriting.
Sometimes he'll write songs for his members, comforting them through his lyrics. Other times he'll write songs for Carats, wanting to share with them some encouraging and happy tunes.
But this time, he's writing a song for you.
Jihoon knows that writing a song for you won't make you forgive him instantly, but the most he can do is try to make things better a little bit at a time.
It's 3 in the morning when you hear a knock at your front door. As the rain falls softly on your window, the only question that on your mind is, who the heck is outside your house at such an ungodly hour?
Feet shuffling along the cold floor, you sleepily walk over to your door and open it. Your sleepy eyes are still trying to make sense of the situation when Jihoon stands outside your apartment door.
In front of you stands a drenched Jihoon with puffy red eyes carrying his signature black backpack that is absolutely ginormous on him.
"Jihoon? What are you doing here?"
Mumbling something incoherently, you watch, still half-awake, as Jihoon slowly walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around you.
As you feel the wetness from Jihoon's shirt begin to seep into your own shirt, you try to softly push Jihoon away. But that only makes Jihoon hug you tighter. "Don't go...,"you hear him mumble as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, and that's when you realize that Jihoon is crying.
You're torn.
Seeing your boyfriend cry is a rare occurence and as much as you want to hug him tightly and kiss away all his tears, you want to run away because how can he come back to your apartment as if nothing had happened in these past few months.
"I'm sorry," Jihoon says, his voice cracking and mouth quivering, as he cries, letting his tears drop messily into the fabric of your shirt.
Taking Jihoon's face in your hands, you quietly rub away his tears which only makes him cry harder. Leaning into your touch, he takes hold of your wrist and gently rubs it. "I-I'm really sorry. You don't deserve a terrible boyfriend like me."
"No, don't say that. You know what, how about I get you a towel so that you can dry yourself off and then we can talk more, okay?
"Okay"
By the time you return from the bathroom, towel in hand, Jihoon is sitting on the couch and pulling his computer out of his bag. "oh...are you going to be working more?"
He can hear the disappointment in your voice when you ask the question, you're so used to him working all the time that you're not even angry ... you're just disappointed. Jihoon feels a wave of guilt wash over him as he realizes that all the things you said to him before were true, he was just too busy to realize it.
"Ah, no. I have something to show you," Jihoon says with a tired smile as he pats the seat on the couch beside him, inviting you to sit.
Hesitant, you take a seat next to your boyfriend and look at his computer screen where you can see him open a file. You then watch as Jihoon pulls out a pair of earphones and plugs them into the computer.
Putting the earbuds into your ears, Jihoon presses play as his eyes shake, nervously watching your face for any kind of reaction.
The second the melody of the song plays into your ears, you feel like crying out of disbelief. "You made a song for me?" you ask, suprise etched all over your face, as you look towards Jihoon's direction.
Nodding with a small but nervous smile, Jihoon then motions for you to continue listening.
And it's when you reach the part of the song where you can hear the lyrics sung by the sweet honey voice of your boyfriend, when you begin to cry.
Just likе a pouring meteor shower
Please be the light in the dark sky
I can do everything for you
For you
I just want to give you everything
And that makes me feel small, a fool who only accepts
It suddenly makes me hate myself
And makes me feel sorrier towards you
"Oh- Jihoon-," you start to say with tears in your eyes as you close the gap between you and Jihoon and give him a tight hug, your face pressed against his chest. "This is beautiful," you continue on to say sincerely.
Blushing, Jihoon quietly mutters with a nervous laugh, "you haven't even finished the song, listen to what i'm trying to say."
Following Jihoon's instructions, you lean on him and quickly refocus your attention back on the song.
Though it was hard writing my feelings down
And all I have is this song and these lyrics
For you, for you, for you, for you
I sing this song for you tonight
So I can get closer to your love
My love only amounts to this
But my feelings will never change, for you baby
Even if my love only amounts to this
I'll be your umbrella in the rain
I'll protect you on all your days
By the time you finish listening to Jihoon's song for you, you're in shambles. "fuck- Jihoon, I love you so much you know? I'm still mad at you but I still love you so much," you say as tears roll down your cheeks. Pressing your forehead against Jihoon's, you lean in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.
Jihoon freezes for a moment before immediately tugging you closer to his body and reciprocating your kiss. "I don't deserve someone as precious as you,"he whispers before devouring your lips into another kiss.
When both you and Jihoon finally break away from each other to get some oxygen into your lungs, Jihoon gently takes your hands into his own. "I-I'm really sorry though. I was a terrible boyfriend these past few months, but I'm going to work on trying to improve myself. Even though I'll probably be busy with producing songs, i'll try to make time for you."
You let out a relived smile when you hear Jihoon's sincere words. "Okay, and I understand if you need time for other things too."
Jihoon gives you a small nod and a smile. "And to answer your previous question, of course you're important to me. For fucks sake you're my girlfriend, you're one of the most important people in my life. How can you not be important to me?" Jihoon says while cupping your face before continuing on to say," just because I don't show it, doesn't mean I don't feel it."
"I love you," he finally whispers with a smile as he places a small peck on your lips.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#woozi x reader#woozi fanfic#woozi fluff#woozi scenarios#woozi imagines#woozi x you#woozi x y/n#jihoon scenarios#jihoon fluff#jihoon imagines#jihoon x reader#jihoon x you
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Sink or swim
12.3k | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 8
WARNINGS: 18+, no outbreak AU, implied age gap, emotional hurt/comfort, flashbacks (toxic relationship, bad mental health), mention of miscarriage & surgery, smut (nothing too graphic), Tommy Miller x f!reader
SUMMARY: You reminisce about the late-night conversation that changed your life forever. Joel shares a secret.
A/N: Guys, it’s finally here!! This part was hard for me to write, but I’m beyond happy with how it turned out. We learn so much about reader’s past and her relationship with Tommy, and I can’t tell you how excited I am to share it with you. Have fun reading (even though it’s a bit sad) and please let me know what you think! I wanna know all your thoughts!! 🤍
Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics.
series masterlist | main masterlist
The ocean stretches before you like a vast expanse of liquid silk, its rhythmic waves kissing the shore with a gentle insistence. The sun, now in its descent towards the horizon, casts a warm glow, painting the water and sand in hues of amber and gold.
You’re perched on a weathered bench, sneakers softly tapping against the sand, lost in thought as you watch the waves roll in.
Dressed in yoga shorts and an oversized t-shirt, with an ice cream cone in hand and sunglasses shielding your eyes from the brilliant rays of the setting sun, you blend seamlessly into the serene scene before you.
You appear inconspicuous, just another person soaking up the sun and breathing in the fresh air. No one can see the anguish gnawing at your heart, the tumult in your head, or the pain in your hand that makes you want to scream.
No, no, you look far too calm for that, too composed, too happy.
Besides, what would someone like you possibly have to feel bad about? Seriously. You just love to wallow in your own sadness, don’t you? You haven’t changed at all. You’re still your insecure, annoying, unlovable self. God, even your inner voice is irritating. Do you hear how pathetic you sound? Of course he wouldn’t lov–
Shut up.
You focus on the waves as they dance and sway, their melodic rhythm a soothing balm to the cruel thoughts echoing relentlessly in your mind.
The ocean’s song, a symphony of calming whispers and gentle sighs you’ve loved ever since you were a little girl, envelops you in its embrace, drawing you deeper into a state of quiet reflection. The cool breeze dancing through the air brushes against your sun-kissed skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the promise of new beginnings.
With a gentle tilt of your head, you take another lick of the strawberry soft serve you bought at the ice cream stand near the boardwalk, feeling the familiar comfort of the cool creaminess dance across your taste buds. It’s been a few months since you last indulged in this particular treat, sharing it with Joel after a rough day at work.
As the cold sweetness melts on your tongue, bittersweet memories of that afternoon flood back with vivid clarity. You can almost hear Joel’s infectious laughter as you scarfed down the icy treat a little too eagerly, his eyes crinkling with amusement at your inevitable brain freeze. But it wasn’t just the shared laughter and playful banter that made this memory so special.
It was Joel’s genuine interest in hearing about your day, about you, his calming presence grounding you and making you momentarily forget all your troubles. He provided you with a warmth that seeped into your bones, a connection that felt effortless yet profound. Like it could be more.
Reflecting on it now, perhaps that should have been a hint that things were more serious than you wanted to admit right from the beginning. Oh well, dwelling on it is futile now. Because you did finally admit it, didn’t you? And not only that, you basically shouted your feelings from the rooftops last night, laying your soul bare.
Fucking embarrassing.
How are you supposed to come back from that? How are you supposed to ever look into Joel’s eyes again?
There’s a reason why you stopped psychotherapy after a few months, there’s a reason why you don’t have any close friends beside Tommy, there’s a reason why your dating life has consisted of a series of superficial hookups over the past couple of years.
“Fear of intimacy,” your therapist called it. “A response to sustained trauma.”
You walked out of that session and, fueled by defiance, decided to fuck the first guy who caught your eye, just to prove to yourself, and to your therapist, that you were very well capable of intimacy.
Lying in bed that night, lonely and empty, you couldn’t shake the truth of her words. You hated her guts for forcing you to confront your inner demons, but she did have a point in everything she said.
It’s an uncomfortable truth.
There’s nothing in the world you fear more than people knowing what’s going on inside your head, knowing what you feel, knowing your vulnerabilities and weaknesses—knowing the real you.
And last night, that fear came true.
Your innermost thoughts and feelings were on display for Joel to see, leaving you exposed and raw. The memory of your outburst, of his shocked face, weighs heavily on your mind and heart, filling you with a deep sense of shame and regret.
For a moment in that bathroom, you felt yourself transported back to all the times you’d scream at Simon for whatever he did to fuck with your feelings that day, just for him to laugh in your face or call you manipulative when you’d inevitably start crying tears of hurt and frustration.
Does Joel see you differently now, knowing the depths of your insecurities? Will he even want to look you in the eye after witnessing what the real you is like? Have you lost your chance with him, and, did you ever even have one?
You sigh deeply and lick around the top of the ice cream cone to catch the drops threatening to run down, humming at the deliciousness.
You haven’t eaten anything else today, too nauseous from your meds and the knot in the pit of your stomach to find food appetizing. You haven’t slept for more than two consecutive hours, too agitated to find any real peace. You also couldn’t stay home this morning, as your apartment suddenly felt like a cage threatening to suffocate you.
Instead, you’ve spent your day off window shopping, aimlessly wandering from one coffee shop to another, your hands now jittery from too much caffeine on an empty stomach. You’ve ambled down the boardwalk, taking in the sights and sounds surrounding you, before finding yourself drawn to the familiar comfort of the ocean.
From the corner of your eye, you catch the display on your phone lighting up with Joel’s name, the device resting on the bench beside you alongside your bag.
You know you’ll have to take his calls and talk to him like an adult at some point. And you will. But this moment, this moment right here, belongs to you and your thoughts alone.
And to the hermit crab making its way through the sand just a few feet away from you. Your lips curl into a smile as you watch the determined little creature, impressed by its resilience in such an unforgiving world. Maybe you would’ve been happier if you’d been born as a hermit crab. Who knows.
As you swallow the last bit of your cone and lean back, feeling the sun’s gentle warmth on your skin, you can’t help but think of the first time you found yourself on this bench, watching the sunset. It feels like that was an entire lifetime ago, and yet, you vividly remember the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed you down, the sense of loneliness that engulfed you—how utterly lost you felt.
You allow your thoughts to drift, captivated by the soothing cadence of the waves lapping against the shore.
Three years earlier
The sun is down.
Staring into the void, you’re consumed by solitude, the cool breeze coming from the water a thin barrier against the weight pressing on your shoulders. The world seems distant, the murmur of the ocean a mere backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your troubled mind and the beat of your empty heart.
This is it. This is where you were always supposed to be.
You take a deep breath and close your eyes, quietly drifting through the corners of your memory. With each passing moment, you meticulously comb through the fragments of the past few months. They offer no solace, only a stark reminder of how you reached this point.
In the stillness of the evening, you find a strange sense of calm, a numbness that dulls the edges of your emotions. Tears refuse to come, leaving only the echo of relief at the resolution of it all.
You open your eyes again, fixating on the endless mirror of the sky before you. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart. The salty tang in the air, the rhythmic melody of the waves, the laughter of birds mingling with the gentle lull of the breeze—everything.
You dig your naked toes into the sand, relishing the connection to the earth beneath you. The sensation is grounding, peaceful, almost–
“Hey there, sweetheart. Is everything okay?”
A man’s voice, rugged yet gentle, breaks through the silence, interrupting your thoughts. His words dance in the air, pulling you reluctantly back to the present.
Are you kidding me?
With a slow and deliberate movement, you lift your gaze from the horizon, meeting the eyes of the stranger who has disrupted the sanctuary of your thoughts. You rest your elbows on your knees and sigh deeply.
“Oh my fucking god,” you murmur, rubbing your temples in annoyance and disbelief. “The sun’s been down for two minutes, and the first creep’s already here.”
“Wha–”
You look up at him. “Do you have like a radar or something where you get a notification every time a woman sits alone on a bench somewhere?”
The dark-haired man blinks in surprise, his expression caught between confusion and amusement. His brow furrows, his mouth slightly agape as he processes your words. After a moment of absorbing your outlandish accusation, his lips curve into a wry smile.
“Darlin’, I’m just–”
“Look, dude. If you’re here to murder me, could you at least spare me the whole blah blah you’ve got planned and just do it? Thank you.”
You look at him with a raised eyebrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He’s not entirely sure if you’re joking, but your sarcastic tone tells him you’re at least not scared of him.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I assure you I got no such plans. Just thought I’d check in on a fellow soul contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”
You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his attempt at humor. “Yeah, well, I prefer to contemplate in peace.”
When he doesn’t budge and just…stares at you with those big, dark eyes of his, you take a moment to size him up.
Your gaze drifts down from his eyes, tracing the contours of his muscular chest visible beneath a fitted white t-shirt. It lingers briefly on the obnoxiously large belt buckle adorning his waist, then travels down the length of his denim-clad legs to his cowboy boots. Despite the surreal encounter, you can’t help but notice how incredibly attractive he is.
God, what’s wrong with you?
“Look, sweetheart,” he says calmly, his voice a blend of warmth and reassurance. “I’m not trying to get into your business or anything, but it’s gonna get pretty chilly out here soon.” He tilts his head and studies your face. “Do you have somewhere to stay?” he asks. “We could go grab a bite to eat if you want, and my place is right arou–”
“How subtle,” you scoff, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’m not going home with you, dude.”
“Fair enough, but at least let me call you a cab and wait with you until it arrives, hm?”
His soft voice and patronizing tone are starting to grate on your already frayed nerves. You’ve been sitting here, not taking up any space, minding your own fucking business, and even that wasn’t good enough, apparently.
Okay, world. Hint taken.
“What the hell is your problem?” you blurt out.
“What do you mean? I’m just–I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?” The question bursts from your lips like a dam breaking under pressure, laced with frustration. “Do you see me holding up a sign where I’m asking for your help? Huh? Or is this more about you and some, I dunno, bullshit white knight fantasy you’re acting out?”
Your eyes narrow, fixing on him with a challenging glare, daring him to justify his intrusion into your solitude.
“No,” he responds calmly, his furrowed brow adding gravity to his words. “It’s because I’ve seen enough shit in my life to recognize when someone’s in need.”
The sincerity in his gaze catches you off guard, rendering you momentarily speechless. It’s as if this…stranger is peering into the depths of your soul, seeing past the walls you’ve erected to protect yourself.
His face softens, the lines around his eyes relaxing as he meets yours. “Mind if I take a seat?”
You shrug indifferently, though a flicker of curiosity dances behind your eyes. “Suit yourself.”
He smiles warmly as he settles beside you. “I’m Tommy, by the way,” he offers, extending a hand. You hesitate for a moment, but eventually, you decide to reciprocate by telling him your name and shaking his hand with a soft sigh.
As his hand envelops yours, there’s a brief surge of something unspoken deep inside you, a connection allowing two disparate souls to briefly intertwine before returning to their separate paths again as soon as he lets go.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, darlin’,” he says with a twinkle in his eye, his mustache curling slightly as he smiles at you.
The faint scent of his cologne drifts towards you, mixing with the salty aroma of the sea air. As you gaze at him, your eyes trace the lines etched around his eyes and mouth, evidence of a life fully lived. Strangely, there’s something comforting about his presence, something that makes you feel a little less alone.
You give him a subtle smile before turning your head back towards the ocean, mesmerized by the rhythmic crashing of the waves against the shore.
Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy watches you silently, noticing the vacant look in your eyes and the way your gaze seems to be fixed on some distant point beyond the horizon. He furrows his brow slightly, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he contemplates how lost you appear in that moment.
“What are you doing out here, sweetheart?” Tommy’s voice breaks the silence, his tone casual yet curious, as if striking up conversations with strange women on the beach is a regular occurrence for him.
Well, it probably is, you think to yourself.
“I, uh, wanted to watch the sunset,” you answer softly.
“Hm. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Should’ve been here and seen it too instead of wasting my time at that damn bar.”
“Oh? How did you waste your time? Can’t have been that bad, judging by the lipstick stains on your face,” you murmur.
“What? Where?” Tommy blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise as he hastily rubs at his lips and cheeks, searching for any traces of lipstick on his fingers.
You stifle a laugh. “I’m just fucking with you,” you deadpan, shooting him a quick glance.
He stares at you in mock offense for a moment before his lips curl into a wide grin. “Touché,” he says, thoroughly entertained by your dry humor. “But yeah, things didn’t go the way I would’ve liked them to.”
“What, she didn’t wanna go home with you either?”
“Very funny. But no, things were going well.” He sighs dramatically and rubs his forehead. “But then her husband showed up and kinda threw a giant monkey wrench into our plans.”
“Wow, tough break,” you scoff, shaking your head in mock sympathy, “not getting to fuck a married woman. I hate it when that happens.”
Tommy chuckles. “Alright, alright, I didn’t know she was married, for the record. She wasn’t wearing a ring or anything.”
“Sure,” you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you cast a skeptical glance in his direction.
“What are you up to, then, darlin’? Hm?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
“Besides not making out with married women?” You hear Tommy’s laugh beside you and wiggle your toes in the sand. “Just enjoying the ocean, I guess. I’ve missed it.”
“You’re not from here?”
You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”
“Hm. You’re gonna love it. There’s lots of cool things to see and do, especially for young people like you.”
You furrow your brow. “Why are you talking like you’re ninety years old and I’m your estranged grandkid?”
“I dunno,” he sighs, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess…turning forty did something to me.”
“Married women apparently still throw themselves at you. You’re gonna be fine.”
He chuckles, a deep, resonant sound that seems to echo across the beach. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”
You’re both quiet for a moment, punctuated by the gentle sound of the ocean and the occasional cry of seagulls wheeling overhead.
“What brings you here, then?” Tommy asks, observing your profile. You look tired.
“I told you, watching the sunset.”
“No, I mean what brings you into town? Vacation or family or something?”
You turn to look at him, tilting your head slightly as you study his expression. “Why do you care?”
“Just making conversation,” he says with a smile, a glint of genuine curiosity shining in his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me. We can talk about something else if you want.”
“Like what?”
“Like did you know it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland?”
Your bewildered look amuses him.
“It’s true. You’re required, by law, to get your guinea pig a little guinea pig friend. They won’t sell you just one. Isn’t that the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”
You stare at him, shaking your head slowly. “What kind of women do you pull if this is how you flirt?”
Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Who says I’m flirting?”
“Uh-huh,” you say with a smirk, then turn your head back towards the water. “But what if they want to be alone?”
“Hm?”
“What if you get a guinea pig in Switzerland and you have to buy a second one to keep it company but the first guinea pig actually just wants to be alone on a bench and then some other guinea pig with a mustache shows up and asks weird questions? What then?”
“Well,” Tommy starts, happy that you’re seemingly warming up a bit. “I think the first guinea pig would quickly realize that the other, dashingly handsome guinea pig isn’t that bad and just wants to be friends. And then they’d be friends and run around together and eat hay or whatever.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, and you know, I think us humans aren’t that different from them. I don’t think we’re meant to be alone either.”
You look at him. “Is that why you came to talk to me? Because you don’t want me to be alone?”
“Would that be so bad?”
“I guess not,” you murmur softly, your gaze drifting to the patch of dry skin on the back of your right hand. “And I’m, uh, not here for any special reason. I just…needed a break from home, I suppose.”
“And you have a place to stay, darlin’?” Tommy’s voice carries a gentle concern as he leans slightly closer, trying to see your eyes.
“Yeah, I booked a hotel room a few minutes from here,” you lie smoothly. “With sea-view and everything. Just haven’t checked in yet.”
“Where did you put all your stuff?”
“My stuff?”
“Yeah, your clothes and teddy bears and whatnot.”
You nudge the backpack sitting on the ground next to you with your naked foot. “This is my stuff.”
“Oh.” You must have really wanted to get away if you traveled this lightly, Tommy contemplates silently.
He used to do the same, packing a bag and escaping, seeking solace in the open road. But he learned the hard way that you can’t outrun your problems. They always find a way to catch up with you, no matter how far you go.
He gives you a sympathetic smile. “Have you had dinner already?”
“I had a bagel at the airport this morning,” you say nonchalantly.
Tommy’s brows furrow slightly, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Yup.” If you had even the slightest bit of energy left inside of you, you’d find his shocked face amusing.
“Okay, that’s just unacceptable. Wait.” He retrieves his phone from his pocket and opens a food delivery app. “What kind of pizza do you want?”
You shake your head. “I don’t want pi–”
“Yes, you do. I’m not gonna have you starving on my watch.”
You raise an eyebrow. “On your watch?”
“Yeah, on my watch. Now, what kind of topping–”
“Pineapple.”
“Excuse me?”
“Pine. Apple.”
“Oh, but I’m the weirdo,” he mutters, shaking his head and giving you the side-eye as he reluctantly adds pineapple as a topping to your pizza. “Anything else? Anchovies? Corn? My tears?”
“Jesus, don’t have a heart attack. Are you Italian or something?”
“No, just not a complete monster.”
You can’t help but chuckle, your smile lighting up your face for the first time in what feels like ages. Tommy’s eyes linger on you a moment too long, captivated by your sudden radiance, before he tears his gaze away as your smile fades once more.
Clearing his throat, he shifts his attention back to his task, fingers tapping away as he types the description of your location for the delivery.
“Should arrive in twenty minutes, the app says.”
You nod and lean back, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you watch the waves again.
“When did you decide to fly out here?”
“Last night.”
“How? Why?”
“Simple. I took out a map, closed my eyes, and this is where my finger landed. And as for the why…well, home just didn’t feel like home anymore, you know?”
“Hm. I know that feeling.”
You turn your head and look into his warm eyes. “You do?”
“Oh yeah. It took me almost a decade after retiring from active duty to feel home again, or like I was safe, or like I belonged. It’s, uh, not easy to get that feeling back once you’ve lost it. I’m sorry you’re going through that,” Tommy says with a somber tone. He really is sorry.
You look at him for a moment and give him a tired smile. “It’s okay,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “It wasn’t home to begin with. Not really.”
“Whatever your reasons are, you’re brave for leaving.”
You scoff. “Yeah, sure, I’m brave for running away.”
“Sweetheart…”
“Look, it’s okay. You don’t need to try and make me feel better ‘cause I’m not sad. But I’m also not gonna act like I’m not a coward who accepted far too much shit for far too long ‘cause I’m very much not brave.”
You sigh deeply. “I should’ve gotten the fuck out of that miserable town and relationship years ago. But now it’s too late.”
Tommy furrows his brow and opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off.
“Are you married?”
“No, darlin’, I’m not married.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No girlfriend.”
“So there’s no one special in your life right now?”
“Nothing serious, no. No attachments for me.”
“Hm. No attachments,” you murmur. “That sounds nice.”
Tommy nods. “It is, most of the time at least. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss being in love.”
“You’ve been in love before?” You tilt your head and look at him with genuine curiosity.
“A few times, yeah.”
“And the women you were with…they loved you?”
“Yeah, they did.” The soft smile lighting up his face tells you he has pleasant memories of his former partners. How nice that must be.
“Do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out?”
Tommy’s expression turns introspective, his gaze drifting towards the horizon as if searching for answers in the distant waves.
“I have,” he admits after a pause, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness. “But I guess that’s just how life goes sometimes. People drift apart, circumstances change, life changes...”
“Do you think it’s possible to hate someone you love?”
Your question catches him off guard, and the look in your eyes concerns him. “Well,” he says calmly, carefully choosing his words, “I can’t say I’ve ever had that experience, but I could imagine that’s how my brother felt about me back when I was spiraling and he had to watch me make bad decision after bad decision. He loved me, I know he always has, but he also hated me for what I was doing.”
“Sounds like a good brother,” you say, mustering a smile.
“He really is. Do you have any siblings?”
“Yeah, but I don’t talk to them,” you say, your tone betraying a hint of sadness before you quickly mask it with indifference. “My, uh…best friend was like my sister though.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, you know,” you murmur, the smile on your lips not matching the bitterness in your tone, “that friendship kinda ended after I saw her sitting on my boyfriend’s lap, shoving her tongue down his throat.”
“What the hell? When was that?”
“Hmm, about a month ago. And you wanna know the real kicker? They’ve been fucking for like half a year. My best friend and my boyfriend. Laughing their asses off behind my back. Hilarious, isn’t it?”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’. They’re shitty people for doing that to you. You didn’t deserve any–”
“How do you know that?”
“Know what?”
“How do you know that I didn’t deserve it? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me.”
“I may not know you,” Tommy says gently, “but I know that no one deserves to be treated like that, especially by the people they trust. It’s hard sometimes to see things objectively because we’re our own worst enemies, but I’m telling you, you didn’t deserve that.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.”
“What makes you say that?”
You look into his eyes, and the pain he can see in yours breaks his heart.
“Because, I fucking loved it. Everything he did to me, all these years. I loved it. I could’ve left him after he cheated on me for the first time, the second time, the hundredth time, but no. I loved how he came crawling back to me time and time again, promising me the world, telling me he only loved me.”
You pull away, hands resting on his chest as you try to find your words. Simon’s intense gaze has your mind swirling with conflicting emotions, and your heart pounding in your chest.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your body trembling as he presses you against the wall with his body. “You–you say you’ll change, you say you’ll never do it again, you say you regret hurting me. And I forgive you. Every time. But nothing ever changes. You do it again and again, not caring how much you hurt me.”
He places a hand on the wall next to your head, pushing your shirt up around your waist with the other, his touch on your naked skin sending a shiver down your spine. He looks down at you with a hint of amusement, a devious smirk appearing on his face as he searches your pleading eyes.
“I’m serious, Simon,” you insist, unsuccessfully trying to convince yourself of what you’re saying. “I’m done.”
Leaning in, he traces your neck with his nose, your heavy breathing and the way your tits press against his chest making his cock twitch in his jeans. “Is that so?” he murmurs against your skin before softly sucking and kissing on your flesh.
“Why are you doing this?” you breathe, instinctively wrapping your arms around him, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you draw him closer. His leg between yours presses against your core, and you can’t help but whimper desperately at the feeling.
“I love you,” he whispers, his warm breath gently caressing the curve of your ear, his words piercing your heart like a poisonous dart.
“No, you don’t,” you murmur, your voice heavy with sadness, your eyes betraying the turmoil raging within you. Despite the ache in your heart, a part of you still yearns for the comfort of his touch, the familiarity of his presence, the illusion of affection he gives you.
You need him, need to feel him, need him to love you—even if it kills you.
In this moment of vulnerability, you surrender to the torrent of emotions flooding your senses, pressing your lips against his in a desperate attempt to drown out the pain, to silence the screams that plague your mind—eagerly drinking his poison straight from the source.
Tangling your fingers in his hair, you pull him closer, offering yourself up to him with each rough tug, fervent kiss, and harsh bite to his lips. He matches your energy, gripping the back of your neck with a bruising hold as he hastily opens his jeans to free his cock.
“I hate you,” you choke out, the words laced with bitterness and the raw intensity of your need for him as your heart races and your vision blurs.
“Whatever you gotta tell yourself, baby,” Simon murmurs with a smirk, his words a cruel reminder of the tangled web of emotions that binds you to him, even as you struggle to break free. With a deft movement, he pulls aside your panties, sliding his hard cock through your wet folds as he holds your leg up around his waist.
“Oh fuck,” you moan as he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust, your fingernails reflexively digging into his scalp. Overwhelming pleasure mingles with the anguish of your body betraying you, even as your mind screams in protest. Your walls clench around Simon with fierce intensity, his repeated thrusts against your G-spot having you close to orgasm within a minute.
“Tell me, baby,” he pants, his eyes gleaming with triumph and satisfaction as he watches in real time how his poison travels through your entire body, your mind, intoxicating your very being with his essence. “Tell me how much you hate me while you come on my cock.”
You tilt your head and give Tommy a tired smile. “Isn’t that the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?”
“No, sweetheart, you’re not pathetic for wanting to be loved. You’re human and our feelings can be…complicated, irrational, dangerous. But you got yourself away from a toxic situation despite your feelings and that takes a lot of strength.”
“Hm.” You draw shapes into the sand with your toes, your heart heavy in your chest.
“Is he…why you left? You had to get away from him?”
“Surprisingly, no,” you say pensively, lost in thought as you fold one leg beneath you on the bench. “Things weren’t that bad after I decided not to care anymore. You know you can just wake up one day and realize it hurts a lot less to just not care about anything? Amazing. So yeah, that’s what I did.” You shrug and rub your left thumb with your right one.
“Of course, he didn’t like that at all, not being able to emotionally drain me anymore. He even told me I was depressed or some shit, acting like he cared, when all he actually missed was me giving him the reactions he wanted,” you scoff, bitterness dripping from your lips. “Coincidentally, that’s when he and my best friend started fucking.”
“I’m so sorry, darlin’, that’s beyond fucked up. Do you, uh, have someone to talk to about all this?”
You raise an eyebrow. “You mean apart from handsome cowboys in too-tight jeans late at night?”
“Did you just call me handsome?”
“Don’t think so,” you give him a playful smile, then turn your head to watch the waves doing their mesmerizing dance. Despite the light-hearted banter, a hint of sadness flickers across your face. “But no, I don’t have anyone left.”
Tommy’s expression softens, his eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and concern as he listens to your words. He reaches out, but catches himself before his hand comes to rest on your shoulder.
“Why did you leave?” he asks gently.
“I saw her.”
“Who?”
“Laura. My best friend,” you say, shuddering at her name. “I came out of the hospital yesterday, stood at a red light, and then I saw her. Looking right at me from the other side of the street. We hadn’t talked since before I almost died a month ago, ‘cause she never bothered to answer any of my calls or texts…and there she was. Daring to look at me with those fake-ass tears in her eyes like she isn’t a fucking sociopath.”
“What did you do?”
“I just…looked at her, knowing I could never see her again. I walked away, went to mine and Simon’s apartment, grabbed a few things, and went to the airport.”
“And now you’re here.”
“And now I’m here.”
The weight of your experience hangs heavy in the air, casting a somber shadow over the conversation. Tommy nods thoughtfully as he absorbs your words, until he suddenly shakes his head, chastising himself for his own stupidity.
“Okay wait, I’m sorry, but did you just say you almost died? What the hell happened?”
“Oh,” you scoff, a wide smile spreading across your face, its brightness contrasting sharply with the dullness in your eyes, “it’s nothing. One of my fallopian tubes burst ‘cause my dumbass gynecologist failed to diagnose an ectopic pregnancy, so I was hemorrhaging and had to have emergency surgery to get it removed.”
Tommy’s reaction is visceral: his eyes widen in shock, and his mouth falls open slightly, a silent gasp escaping him as the gravity of your words, spoken with horrifying casualness, hits him like a punch to the gut.
“Jesus Christ, darlin’...”
“But hey, the doctor said I’m completely fine at the check-up yesterday, so I guess that’s what I am.” You shrug and smile at him, but your attempt to lighten the mood falls flat.
“Darlin’, I’m so sor–”
“Don’t, please. It’s okay,” you interrupt softly, shaking your head. “My ex told me to have an abortion when I told him I was pregnant, and I wouldn’t have been a good mom anyway, so it’s best for the baby that it wasn’t born into the shitshow that is my life.”
“Dar–”
“I swear to God, Tommy, if you say ‘darlin’’ in that stupid, sexy accent of yours one more time,” you cut him off with a playful glare.
He smiles at you, though worry lingers in his eyes and tugs at his heart.
“I’ve always wanted to live near the ocean,” you muse, welcoming the breeze cooling your hot face down. “It’s kind of poetic that my journey ends here.”
“It really is beautiful here, I’m sure you’d love livi–” Tommy starts, but you’re not hearing him.
“You know, I have this recurring dream where I drown, but instead of feeling panicked or scared I just feel peaceful, light. Like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I don’t thrash or struggle, I just…let the water take me under and I can finally breathe.”
Concern flashes in Tommy’s eyes, but he quickly masks it with a calm expression, not wanting to alarm you.
“That sounds intense,” he responds gently, choosing his words carefully. “Dreams can be strange sometimes, but that one sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe it’s your mind’s way of processing all the heavy things that’ve been weighing on you."
He shifts slightly closer to you, his tone soft and reassuring. “But you know, maybe it’s worth exploring with a therapist or someone who can help you unpack it. Sometimes talking about these things can bring some clarity and relief.”
“Yeah, maybe,” you say absentmindedly.
“Darlin’, please look at me,” Tommy’s voice breaks through the haze of your thoughts, his gaze penetrating through the fog of your mind. If you had any tears left to cry, the sincerity in his eyes would surely coax them out right about now.
“About what you said earlier…you–you don’t deserve people treating you badly, or any of the bad things that happen to you. You never did, you hear me? You were supposed to be loved, protected and cared for, but you weren’t, and that’s not fair, and most certainly not your fault.”
You tilt your head, studying his face intently. Why does he care? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone? But hey, he’s trying to be nice, and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again. So, you’re trying to be nice back.
“Thanks,” you say softly, mustering a smile. “But enough about me and my dumpster fire of a life.” You shift in your seat, untucking your leg and stretching it out in front of you.
“I’d rather hear about you and how you get your hair to be this healthy. I can never get mine to look that good. Do you think it’s because I just eat garbage, don’t drink enough water and don’t get enough sunlight?”
Tommy chuckles and nods understandingly, recognizing your attempt to shift gears, and decides to play along until you both hear the pizza guy calling for you.
Your insistence to pay for your own pizza and drink falls on deaf ears, so you begrudgingly accept Tommy’s invitation and thank him for ordering food. Surprisingly, you find yourself ravenously hungry after taking the first few bites of your pineapple pizza—that you originally only wanted to mess with Tommy. But even he has to admit it isn’t half bad after you make him eat a slice.
As you’re eating together and the night deepens around you, the street lamps along the boardwalk spending enough light, you ask Tommy about his life.
He shares his journey of enlisting in the army as a teenager, grappling with PTSD upon his return, and navigating through troubled times. He tells you about the unwavering support of his brother and how therapy helped him cope with his demons. You delve deeper, asking him about his wishes for the future, about his hopes and dreams.
You enjoy hearing about his life, about his experiences that are so different from yours. It’s comforting to get lost in someone else’s story for a bit. It’s a refuge, a welcome escape from your own tiring existence.
Pizzas devoured, you sit side by side, enveloped in the soothing melody of the ocean’s whispers. Time seems to lose its grip as you share both laughter and quiet, the minutes and hours slipping away unnoticed like grains of sand carried by the tide.
As tranquility settles between you, the world around you seemingly forgotten, a question gnaws at your insides, its weight palpable in the silence. It’s a question you’re reluctant to voice aloud, knowing it will rupture the delicate bubble you and Tommy have found yourselves in. Yet, it persists, demanding acknowledgment, refusing to be ignored.
You take a deep breath.
“Tommy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you something?”
He gives you a reassuring smile. “Of course, darlin’.”
“Why won’t you go home?”
Oh. Tommy looks deeply into your eyes, his own filled with turmoil, and finds that he can’t lie to you.
“I can’t,” he admits softly, turning his gaze towards the distant horizon.
You nod slowly, turning your head towards the water as well. “You know why I’m here.”
“Yes,” he says simply, his acknowledgment laden with a quiet understanding.
You steal a glance at him, your eyes searching for comfort in the weary lines on his face. With a tentative gesture, you place your hand on the bench between you, a subtle invitation for connection.
Tommy, sensing your unspoken plea, catches the movement from the corner of his eye. His gaze meets yours as you turn your head, and in that shared moment of vulnerability, he understands. Without a word, he responds, reaching out to cover your hand with his own.
His touch is protective, a silent promise that you’re not alone.
“Do you…do you think that makes me a bad person?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you lay bare the depths of your fears.
“No,” he responds softly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “You’re not a bad person for feeling the way you do.”
For the first time since your miscarriage, tears glisten in your eyes, shimmering like fragments of shattered dreams under the moonlight. Tommy’s words offer a glimmer of solace, touching your broken heart.
Silence settles between you two, heavy with shared pain. You sit like that for a while, two strangers finding kinship in the gentle embrace of this summer night.
Gently squeezing your hand, Tommy turns to look at you after a few minutes. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his voice tinged with urgency. You look into his eyes, finding comfort in the warmth of his presence.
“Please stay with me tonight,” he pleads, his fingers tightening around yours, anchoring you to the present moment as if afraid you might slip away into the night.
“We can stay here, we can go for drinks, we can go dancing, we can break into the zoo—whatever you want, sweetheart. We don’t have to talk about anything, and I promise I won’t bother you anymore if tomorrow you decide that’s what you want, but please give me a chance to show you that I ca–”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
As the gentle breeze around you whispers secrets of hope and renewal, you find yourself nodding in agreement, a silent promise to give him the chance he so earnestly seeks—to let him show you the light that flickers within the darkness.
Tommy is momentarily stunned as he searches your face for any sign of hesitation. But there’s none to be found—only a quiet resolve that speaks volumes. A wave of relief washes over him, and he can’t hold back the wide grin spreading across his face.
“So, there’s a place a few minutes from here where we could dance, or there’s the bar I went to earlier, or we could–”
“Tommy?”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I’m tired. Could we maybe…could we go home?”
Tommy’s face lights up even more. “Yes, yes, of course, darlin’. My place is right around the corner.”
“Great,” you say with a small smile.
You put your socks and sneakers back on, your movements slow and unsteady after hours of sitting. As you stand up for the first time, your legs wobble beneath you, but Tommy is quick to react, reaching out to steady you with his hands on your waist.
“Sorry,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you realize your hands are gripping his shoulders for support.
“That’s alright, darlin’. I got you.”
“You’re so cheesy, you know that?” you say with a playful roll of your eyes before removing your hands and taking a step back.
“Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not working,” he teases back with a smirk.
“Whatever. Can we go?” You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
“After you, my lady,” Tommy says with a gallant flourish, gesturing for you to go first. You shake your head with a theatrical sigh, but play along and start walking.
He falls into step beside you, eager to lift your spirits with an array of random animal facts he’s accumulated over the years, and, much to your amusement, with some particularly funny stories about failed hookups, like the one from tonight.
As you draw closer to his apartment, he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath and comes to a halt.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“I’m so sorry, I forgot to ask if you need anything.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, tampons, make-up wipes, solution for your contacts, hair conditioner, lotion—I don’t think I have any of that at home, but there’s a convenience sto–”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, touched by his consideration. “I got all my essentials in my backpack and really don’t need anything fancy. Thank you, though.”
“Are you–”
“Yes, I’m sure,” you interrupt softly. “Thank you.”
Arriving at Tommy’s apartment, you’re struck by its elegant yet welcoming nature. It’s spacious and tastefully furnished, with a modern aesthetic that speaks to Tommy’s discerning taste. You can’t help but wonder if his job as a contractor affords him such a nice living space or if he’s secretly a trust fund kid—or a very successful drug dealer.
“Must be nice,” you think to yourself.
As Tommy ushers you inside, you’re enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort as the space feels distinctly homey, with its wooden furnishings and cozy accents that evoke a rustic charm. The polished hardwood floors gleam under soft lamplight, casting a warm glow throughout the living room.
Tommy assures you that you’re welcome to make yourself at home as he heads into the kitchen to get you a glass of water.
Despite its hominess, the apartment remains impeccably clean and organized—a testament, perhaps, to Tommy’s meticulous nature. Every surface is spotless, every item in its proper place, reflecting a discipline that may well stem from his army training.
As you explore further, you do notice small touches that hint at Tommy’s personality—framed photos of him and his friends, a worn but well-loved armchair and couch positioned opposite the TV, horse figurines on the sideboard, and a few potted plants scattered throughout, adding a touch of life to the space.
Your eyes are eventually drawn to the record player nestled in one corner, surrounded by a collection of vinyl records. The sight brings a smile to your face, appreciating the nostalgic feeling it gives you. You’re pretty sure you used to have the same model in your childhood home.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” you hear Tommy’s voice behind you as he hands you the glass of water with a knowing smile. “You like Jazz?”
“Thanks. And yeah, I guess?”
“Okay, wait a sec.” He moves with practiced ease, flipping through his collection of vinyl records until he finds the one he’s looking for. With a gentle touch, he carefully removes the chosen record from its sleeve, handling it delicately as if it were a precious artifact.
You sip on your water and watch in fascination as he places the record onto the turntable, the soft click of the needle finding its groove. As the first notes of a smooth jazz melody fill the air, you can’t help but smile, the music enveloping you in its warm embrace.
Tommy catches your eye and grins, nodding in approval as if to say, “See, I knew you’d like it.”
You roll your eyes and nudge his arm with your elbow.
“Want me to show you around?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, so this is the bedroom,” he says, leading you down the hallway and into the room where you’ll be sleeping. The bed sits neatly made, its dark sheets promising a restful night ahead. “I’ll change the sheets for you in a bit, okay? And I’ll be sleeping in the living room on the couch.”
“I, uh,” you murmur, but stop yourself, shaking your head. “No, forget it.”
“What is it? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He searches your eyes as you meet his gaze, waiting patiently for you to answer him.
“Could you maybe…not change the sheets?”
Tommy’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but he doesn’t make it awkward. Instead, he nods understandingly and immediately assures you, “Sure, I’ll leave the bed as it is then.”
You offer him a grateful smile and as if sensing your need for comfort, he asks, “Do you need a shirt to sleep?” Without waiting for your response, he retrieves one of his shirts and hands it to you.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, taking the shirt from him and holding it close. It’s soft and smells nice.
“And here’s the bathroom,” Tommy continues, leading you through the space. “Feel free to take a shower if you want. Spare towels are here, and there’s a new toothbrush in the cabinet here. Toothpaste is over there. I even got fancy face masks if you wanna try, they’re in here. You think you got everything you need?”
“I think so,” you smile at him before leaving the bathroom to grab your backpack.
As you’re about to head back, Tommy slips in ahead of you. You watch as he discreetly removes all the razor blades, a silent but clear gesture of concern for your well-being. You understand what he’s doing, and although it stirs a pang of humiliation and shame inside you, you don’t say anything and act like you didn’t see it.
After he leaves the bathroom, you take a moment to compose yourself before closing the door, peeing, taking off your clothes, and catching a glimpse of the small surgery scars on your belly. They appear to be healing well, already looking much better than even a week ago.
With a deep breath, you turn on the shower, allowing the warm water to cascade over your body, soothing away some of your tension. As you lather up, enveloped in the steam and the rich scent of Tommy’s body wash, there’s a knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts.
“Darlin’?” Tommy’s voice sounds through the door.
“Yeah?”
“Just wanted to check if you were okay.”
“I’m okay. But you seriously need to start buying body wash for adults, dude. I’m gonna be smelling like a fourteen-year-old boy now, and I don’t know how to feel about it,” you tease.
“Ha ha, you brat. Enjoy your shower.”
You smile to yourself and appreciate how clean Tommy’s shower is as, in your experience, that is not something you can count on with men who live alone.
As you lather shampoo into your hair, you close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of peace amidst the chaos of recent events. It’s all so surreal.
Once rinsed, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in one of Tommy’s plush towels, the soft fabric hugging your body in a tight embrace. With the steam still lingering in the air, you take your time cleaning your face, brushing your teeth and detangling your wet hair, these simple acts of self-care something you’ve neglected in the weeks prior.
Luckily, your past self decided to pack a fresh pair of panties and a pair of soft yoga pants you can change into now, Tommy’s shirt completing your pajamas for tonight.
Slowly, you step out of the bathroom, the soft light of the living room floor lamp casting a warm glow on the scene before you. Tommy’s sitting on the couch, bathed in the gentle ambiance of the record player’s music.
With a glass of whiskey in hand, he seems lost in thought, fingers rhythmically tapping against the glass, his eyes focused on the spinning vinyl. As you approach, he looks up, a small smile gracing his lips as he welcomes you to join him.
“Okay yeah, I get it,” he quips, his tone playful as he notices how perfectly his shirt accentuates your eye color. “You look better in my shirt than I ever could. There’s really no need to rub it in.”
Chuckling, you settle into the cushion beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence. It feels oddly comforting to be close to him again, his cologne a familiar scent.
But as you sit beside him now, something shifts in the air, a subtle change that you can’t quite pinpoint. It’s as if a newfound awareness has settled between you, casting a different light on the space you share. And as you steal glances at Tommy, you start to feel restless, your heart rate quickening.
Oh.
The realization dawns on you slowly, creeping in like the first light of dawn, illuminating the depths of your emotions. You find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from him, mesmerized by the way he sits on the couch, his posture relaxed yet undeniably confident.
Your eyes trail over the breadth of his shoulders, down his strong arms, his sculpted torso, and settle on his spread thighs, the subtle flex of muscles visible beneath the fabric of his jeans. Each movement, each shift of his body, only serves to deepen the intensity of your attraction to him.
You’re in trouble.
His handsome face holds a certain allure, drawing you in with its rugged charm—especially with those warm eyes and the beautiful facial hair. As you look at him, really take him in, you can’t deny the flutter of arousal stirring deep within you.
A flutter that’s enough to urge your scrambled brain to make a move.
Tommy catches your prolonged stare, and his brows furrow slightly, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. You gather the courage to ask for a sip of his whiskey, unwittingly biting your lip as you wait for his answer.
“Of course, darlin’,” he agrees, leaning in with a broad smile, bringing the glass closer to you.
As your fingers brush against his on the glass, you feel a surge of electricity pass between you. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. You take the glass from him, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.
Raising the glass to your lips, you take a slow sip, relishing the smooth warmth of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you lick your lips, the gesture not lost on Tommy as he watches you intently.
The flicker of desire in his eyes tells you that he’s captivated by your silent invitation, but as Tommy accepts the glass back, a faint frown tugs at his brow, his expression suddenly tense.
“Darlin’, don’t look at me like that,” he murmurs, his voice husky with restraint.
You raise an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you ask, “Why not?”
“Because,” he breathes out, “it’s making me want to do things I shouldn’t.”
“Hmm, but what if I told you that I want to do those things, too?”
Tommy swallows hard as you scoot closer to him, his eyes never leaving yours. His pulse quickens, evident in the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, unsure of what to do or say next.
When your hand lands gently above his knee, his body tenses at your touch. His lips part slightly, as if he’s about to speak, but all he manages is a heavy breath.
“Tell me to stop,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as you lean in slowly, searching his eyes. You can see the conflict raging within him, desire warring with restraint, and you wait for his response.
With a shaky exhale, his gaze drops down to your lips, his entire being filled with longing and uncertainty. But as your palm wanders up his thigh, drawing closer and closer to his growing erection, his resolve begins to crumble like sand underfoot.
Unable to resist any longer, he leans in, closing the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet fervent kiss. His hand instinctively finds the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your wet hair as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss with a quiet urgency.
Feeling you so close, feeling your soft lips against his, he surrenders to the moment, to the sweet sensation of your embrace, letting himself be consumed by the taste of you.
And yet, in the back of his mind, he’s painfully aware of the circumstances of your meeting.
“I don’t think…this…is a good idea,” Tommy mumbles breathlessly against your lips as you whine needily for more.
“I don’t care,” you breathe, pulling back for a moment to hold onto his shoulders and straddle his lap. His cock twitches in his jeans as you scoot forward, your warm core putting delicious pressure on it. Smiling, you put your hands on his chest and lean in to kiss him again. He cups your face with his hands, kissing you back deeply before nudging your nose with his.
You open your eyes and meet his gaze, his pupils so dilated his brown eyes are almost completely black.
“Let me look at you, baby” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine. With a smile, you straighten up and place your hands behind you on his thighs, giving him a great view of your spread thighs and torso.
“Is this okay?” Tommy asks softly as he traces your thighs with his palms, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body.
You nod your head yes, and his lips curve into a smile as his eyes roam your body and face with adoration. His hands wander over your hips, under the shirt you’re wearing, along your waist and further up, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing yours as his hands come to rest on your waist.
“I’m sure you say that to every girl willing to sit on your lap,” you tease with a smirk, putting your hands on his chest. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm.
“Yeah, but with you I mean it.” His words carry a weight of sincerity as one hand reaches out to tenderly caress your cheek, while the other glides over the soft skin of your back. “C’mere baby.”
As you lean in, his lips capture yours with an almost desperate hunger, his kiss rough and deep, as if he fears you might vanish if he doesn’t hold onto you tightly enough. His hands glide to your lower back, hovering just above your ass, hesitant to go further yet craving to pull you closer, to feel every inch of you pressed against him, to consume you whole.
“You don’t have to be so gentle. I won’t break,” you say softly, leading his hands down to your ass. You hum in satisfaction as he grabs it, feeling the strain of his arousal against your aching pussy.
“Tommy,” you whine quietly against his lips, begging him to understand how desperately you need him.
Lost in the moment, you both sink deeper into the kiss, the world around you fading away until there’s only the heat of each other’s bodies and the rhythm of your shared desire. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as his hands roam your back, igniting sparks of pleasure with every touch.
But as the intensity of your kiss grows, so does the weight of uncertainty. Tommy pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he searches your eyes for reassurance.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispers. “We don’t have to…”
“I want you, Tommy,” you purr, your eyes glazed.
Your hips rock against him, trying to relieve the tension that has grown between your thighs, eliciting a deep groan from him. His hands move to your waist, helping you grind against him.
“Oh shit,” he pants, reveling in the needy moans leaving your lips. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” he admits with a soft shake of his head, looking at you with wide eyes, still moving you against the bulge in his jeans.
“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss and suck at his sensitive neck, leaving purple marks behind. You feel his grip tighten, his restraint slipping as he responds to your touch with a low groan.
Lost in the overload of sensations—feeling your warm body, your soft lips and wet tongue, your urgent movements on him, hearing your moans and whispered pleas—Tommy is ready to give you what you both want.
But right as he’s opening his belt with deft fingers, he inadvertently turns his head and catches his reflection in the window. Watching you writhe on top of him, clutching his shirt, his own face twisted in ecstasy, a sharp pang of guilt shoots through him.
This isn’t right. He shouldn’t be doing this.
You move to kiss his lips again, but as you do so, you catch the concern in his eyes, and your heart sinks. “Hey,” you whisper, your brow furrowed, an anxious smile on your lips.
Your fingers trail gently through his hair, seeking reassurance, but when his movements cease and his touch withdraws, panic floods your senses.
“No, no please don’t stop,” you beg, your desperation evident in every word. You press against him, your hips moving with urgency, aching for the connection you crave so deeply. “I need you.”
Your hands gently cup his cheeks, your pleading eyes flitting between his.
“Please? Tommy?”
Feeling something bump against your leg, you’re called back to the present.
“Oh, hi there, buddy,” you coo, looking down at the toddler who just faceplanted in front of you. You lean down and offer your hand to help him up. “What are you up to, hm? Just running around?”
He looks up at you with wide eyes, his face breaking into a toothy grin. “You wanna sit up here and wait for your mommy?” You lift him up, putting more pressure on your bandaged hand than you should, and set him down beside you. “Great view, huh?”
He babbles something unintelligible, his little arms flailing as his excited laughter fills the air. “You’re so right, buddy,” you agree, following his gaze to the sparkling blue, “the ocean is beautiful.”
“Benji? Oh, there you are,” a lady in a swimsuit calls out, walking towards you with a relieved smile. “I’m sorry for disturbing you,” she says to you, her tone apologetic. “Benji, how many times have I told you not to run away, hm?”
The toddler giggles in response to his mom’s reproach, his little arms reaching out for her. You can’t help but laugh along with him.
“Think twice before you decide to have kids,” the lady says with a deep sigh, lifting her son onto her hip. “They’re not always as cute as they look.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you chuckle.
“Say bye to the nice lady,” she prompts, her voice warm and gentle.
Benji turns to you, his eyes bright with innocence, and waves enthusiastically with his chubby little hand.
“Bye Benji,” you coo, returning his wave with a big smile, your heart warmed by his adorable gesture.
You sigh and look at your phone. You have two new messages from Tommy.
Maria says she can’t wait to see you tomorrow. And that she’ll personally drag you here if you decide not to show up.
You’re family and there’s nothing you can do to escape us ;)
You swallow hard and can feel your puffy, irritated eyes starting to water behind your black glasses. What the fuck did you ever do in your insignificant life to deserve this kind of love?
Your phone lights up with another text from Tommy.
just accept it <3
You snort and shake your head. You’re so grateful for his friendship. It has changed a lot over the last couple of years, of course it has, especially after he started dating Maria, and more recently since you started…seeing his brother without telling him.
But the fact that you’re still honoring your yearly tradition to have your late-night talk on this very bench, is a testament to the depth of your bond. It’s a cherished ritual, marking the anniversary of your first meeting. You meet here, under the evening sky, exchanging stories and laughter, and indulging in pizza after sunset.
Two years ago, Tommy told you he met someone before you left his apartment the next morning.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?”
“I, uh, I got something to tell you.”
“Shoot.”
“I met someone.”
Your fingers halt as you’re tying your shoes, the world around you suddenly still as his words sink in. You stare at the floor, tension building in your heart.
“We’ve only been on two dates, but I–”
“Really like her,” you finish his sentence as you tie the laces into a knot, straighten up and meet his gaze.
“Yes.”
That’s it, then. You’ve been replaced.
“Does that,” you clear your throat that feels incredibly tight now, your voice shaking, “does that mean we can’t hang out anymore?”
Tears well up in your eyes as you feel a rush of panic flood through you. You look down and try to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.
“Of course not,” Tommy says, his tone gentle yet firm. “Nothing and no one in the world could ever keep me from spending time with you.”
“Okay,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as you hastily wipe away a tear with trembling fingers.
“I’m sorry for crying, I–I don’t mean to.”
“Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Tommy says softly, closing the distance between you two. His hands find their place on your shoulders, offering a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
“Darlin’, look at me.”
You lift your gaze to meet his, your eyes brimming with fresh tears.
“I mean it,” he says with a comforting smile, looking intently into your eyes and cupping your face with his hands. “I promise I’m not going to leave you. I will always be here for you.”
You study his face and tell the nagging voice in your mind to shut the fuck up. This is Tommy. He deserves love, he deserves happiness, he deserves someone who can give him everything he wants.
And that’s not you.
You give him a kiss on the cheek and a sincere smile. “I’m really happy for you, Tommy.”
You did continue spending time together—Tommy kept his word and didn’t abandon you—but as more and more time passed, you would see him less and less as his relationship with Maria deepened.
You expected that to happen, it didn’t hurt any less though.
One year ago, he told you he was going to propose to her, and you spent all night brainstorming ideas on how he could do it. After she’d said yes, they both let you know one day over dinner that they were going to elope, just the two of them, and you were the only person they’d tell beforehand.
A few weeks ago, Tommy beamed with pride as he shared that they were trying for a baby, the twinkle in his eyes warming your heart. Despite the joyous news, you couldn’t resist teasing him for planting that image in your mind.
After you’d shared your stories, and your pineapple and pepperoni pizzas, he very casually asked you if you were seeing anyone, and you said, “No.”
“You’re a horrible liar, darlin’.”
“I’m not lying. I don’t like anyone except you.”
“Stroking my ego’s not gonna get you off the hook, baby.”
“Hmm, I’m pretty sure it’s working though.”
“The longer you deny it, the more obvious it gets, you know.”
“I’m not seeing anybody, Tommy.”
“You really wanna play semantics with me?”
“Alright, alright. I guess I’m…kinda seeing someone.”
“Why just ‘kinda’? Does the guy not realize what a lucky bastard he is?”
“It’s not him. It’s, uh…you know me.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I know you’ve caught feelings.”
“Ew, don’t say that.”
“Well, it’s true. It’s written all over your pretty face.”
“You suck, you know that?”
“Yeah, it’s part of what makes me so charming. Does he know?”
“I dunno, probably not.”
“Are you gonna tell him?”
“Uhh, I don’t think so.”
“Why not? All this time I’ve known you and I’ve never seen you in love before. You can’t just…ignore it.”
“Tommy…”
“Don’t even try it with the puppy eyes, I’m immune to them.”
“Liar.”
“Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t tell him.”
“Easy. If I never tell him, it’ll never hurt.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“You just couldn’t let me live happily in my delusions, hm?”
“Sweetheart. I know you’re scared, and you have all the reason to, but…sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith, you know?”
“I’m not sure I can.”
“What does your gut say?”
“My gut says he’s too good for me and that he wouldn’t like me if he knew who I really am.”
“As someone who does know who you really are, I can assure you that it’s a privilege I wouldn’t miss for the world.”
“I just…don’t wanna mess things up, Tommy.”
“Look. Nothing lasts, but nothing is lost if you try. Everything changes and everything is alright.”
“Wow, that was beautiful…you’re really starting to feel that rum and coke, huh?”
“You know I’m right, baby.”
It’s funny, really.
You actually entertained the idea that Tommy might be onto something, that perhaps opening up to Joel could bring some semblance of peace, that perhaps you could be happy together. Yet here you are, back where you started, the familiar ache of loss settling in your heart, whispering that everything is far from alright.
As the sun dips below the horizon, the sky transforming into a canvas of vibrant colors, reflecting off the rippling surface of the water, you take your shoes and socks off. You sink your toes into the soft, grainy sand, relishing its comforting texture.
Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, allowing the rhythmic sound of the waves to soothe your racing thoughts. With each exhale, you remind yourself that you’re safe, embracing the tranquility of the moment as the colors of the sunset dance across your eyelids.
You feel grounded, peaceful, almost—
“Hi, darlin’.”
“Jesus, you scared me,” you startle with a gasp, snapping back to reality as Joel’s voice unexpectedly breaks the silence.
“I’m so sorry, I thought you saw me,” he says with an apologetic smile on his lips, his big puppy eyes looking puppier than ever.
You sigh exasperatedly and take off your sunglasses. “I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he begins, his words stumbling over each other, “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just...I thought I–I mean, I wanted to...”
“Joel,” you interrupt him, too exhausted—physically and emotionally—to beat around the bush. “What are you doing here?”
His brow furrows slightly and his heart plummets as he sees your bleary eyes, a pang of concern settling heavily in his stomach. “I wanted to see you, darlin’,” he confesses softly.
Your gaze sharpens with curiosity and suspicion as you ask, “But how did you know I was gonna be here? And can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.”
Joel hesitates for a moment, then sits down beside you, his movements cautious as if afraid to spook you. With a nervous glance in your direction, he clears his throat, his voice low and hesitant.
“I, uh,” he begins, his words faltering slightly, “I went to your place after work to see if you’d maybe talk to me in person. But you weren’t there. And then I went to your office to see if you were working late, but I saw Kristen and she said it was your day off. You could have been anywhere at that point, so I went to Tommy’s and…told him.”
His eyes flit between yours, anxiously searching for your reaction.
You blink slowly, processing Joel’s words with a sense of resignation rather than shock. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you realize that, at this point, nothing surprises you anymore. With a tired nod, you acknowledge Joel’s actions, feeling too drained to muster any significant reaction.
“How’d he take it?” you ask quietly.
Joel exhales deeply, a wry smile on his lips. “He isn’t too happy with me right now, but I think he’ll get over it.”
“Hm.”
“Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice wavering with emotion. “I know you probably don’t want to see me right now, but after last night, I just…I couldn’t bare the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me.”
As Joel speaks, you keep your gaze averted, unable to meet his eyes, your focus fixed on the sand beneath your feet. You hear every word he says, each one echoing in the silence between you, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite your reluctance to face him, Joel’s unwavering gaze remains fixed on you, his eyes silently pleading for understanding.
In the midst of the tense silence, a sudden clarity washes over you, and your heart speaks before your mind can catch up. Just as Joel opens his mouth to apologize again and explain further, you interject with your own question, the words tumbling out softly into the stillness.
“Do you ever feel like there’s something missing...like a piece of your heart is somewhere else? And no matter what you do, you’re always gonna be incomplete?”
You meet Joel’s gaze, your eyes searching his, peering into his soul with a vulnerability that lays bare your deepest feelings.
“I don’t feel like that when I’m with you,” you whisper.
Joel’s brows furrow in a mixture of surprise and tenderness as your words sink in. His lips part slightly, his expression softening with understanding as he processes the weight of your confession.
“Would you, um,” you clear your throat, “would you hold my hand and just sit with me for a bit?”
Joel’s eyes beam with adoration as he gently envelops your hand that’s clutching your shirt, delicately prying it away and intertwining his fingers with yours. With a soft, reassuring smile, he places your entwined hands on his thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.
As you both gaze out at the vast expanse of the water, the waves lapping against the shore in a mesmerizing dance, you feel a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket.
You still carry the weight of unresolved issues and uncertainties in your heart, acknowledging that they loom on the horizon, demanding attention. But for now, they can wait.
Your hand in Joel’s feels right, and in this shared moment right here, that’s enough.
Thank you for reading! 🤍
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#fwb!joel miller x f!reader#fwb!joel miller#series: you wanted this#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#tommy miller x f!reader#tommy miller x reader#pedro pascal characters#joel miller#tommy miller#joel miller x you#tommy miller x you#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller angst#tommy miller angst#the last of us fanfiction#joel tlou#the last of us fic#tommy miller fluff
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╰─▸ ❝ mine ❞ - ,, yang jungwon
pairing bf!jungwon x gn!reader ୨୧ genre secret relationship, idol au ୨୧ wc 733 ୨୧ warnings pushy heeseung, jealous and sfw!possessive jungwon
req; hii can you write possesive bf jungwon?
. . . . . -ˋˏ ✎ author's note! more jealous than possesive, sorry !!
you entered the restaurant with niki, his shoulder brushing against yours as you walked beside him. they had all invited you to celebrate their latest music show win with a new song over dinner. seeing them triumph made you especially happy, given the nonstop work you had witnessed them put in over the past weeks.
niki gave your back a pat as you split to take your seats at the table. you both were slightly tardy due to traffic, and since niki was your closest friend among them, he had promised to pick you up.
your bond with the group had grown mainly because niki was like a brother to you, and vice versa. you both had met during training days, and unable to resist niki's lost eyes, you took care of him, creating a sibling-like bond. after the boys got into i-land, you decided to give up on being an idol and decided to focus on producing music.
seated at the table, heeseung was on your right, sunoo on your left, jay in front of you, and jungwon right next to him, offering you a soft smile when your eyes met.
you were about to initiate a conversation with jungwon when heeseung spoke up.
“did you see our performance?” he asked, looking directly at you. you nodded, your mind filled with images of jungwon looking angelic on stage. wanting to clear your mind, you planned on complimenting jungwon later, as you grabbed the menu, your focus shifting to the dishes.
heeseung continued to ask you questions, and although you had nothing against him, he sometimes pushed your limits, especially today.
as the food arrived, you dove in immediately, realizing it was your first meal of the day. it had been a busy day in the studio, and you had forgotten to eat, engrossed in your work.
while some of them took pictures of the food, chatted, or simply enjoyed the meal, heeseung seemed incapable of keeping his mouth shut.
"so, anything changed, y/n? finally found someone?" he asked, once again, earning him an annoyed look from you. heeseung had always been interested in your love life, sometimes dropping hints that he was clearly interested in you.
your relationship with jungwon had to be kept as a secret, simply because it was easier for both of you. being friendly in public was safer, enhypen was getting more popular, obsessed fans or media almost always following them. you didn’t want to start rumors.
"if you didn't know, i'm here—" heeseung began.
"you're not my type," you cut him off, prompting laughter from the rest of the group. as they teased heeseung, you looked towards jungwon.
a shiver travelled down your spine, jungwon looked scary. a slight furrow between his brows, his eyes piercing through heeseung and mouth slightly open, as if he was in disbelief.
“c’mon, y/n. stop joking around, you’re just too shy to admit that you have a crush on me,” heeseung bounced back, but not really saving himself from the embarrassment caused by your words and (almost) everyone laughing.
jungwon shifted his gaze to you, waiting for your response. panicking, you'd seen him annoyed with other members before, and being the leader, he had an intimidating presence. but he had never looked at you like that. frozen, chopsticks in hand, holding a piece of meat in the air, you waited for magic to happen to get you out of this situation.
“heeseung, switch your seat with me.”
jungwon's rough voice made everyone look at him as he stood up. heeseung obeyed, still confused, as it was evident on his face. your boyfriend finally sat next to you, and you felt slightly relieved.
"is our leader jealous?" jake spoke, quickly silenced by jungwon's gaze.
your boyfriend almost forcibly took your hand, interlocking your fingers and resting his elbow on the table for everyone to see. you gasped quietly, looking at jungwon, who didn't spare you a glance, his eyes focused on heeseung.
"we're dating," he declared loudly and firmly. "don't ask them such questions. i don't want to hear that. if you ever make them uncomfortable again, i'll make sure you never see them again."
heeseung nodded, and for a couple of minutes, it was very quiet. everyone focused on their food, the atmosphere heavy and awkward. jungwon placed your interlocked hands on his thigh, holding you tightly for the rest of the evening.
niki broke the silence, asking how you and jungwon started dating, and from there, everyone went back to normal—making jokes, having regular conversations, but mostly poking fun at heeseung and his big ego.
requests: open
© 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !
#thejakeslayla#enhypen fluff#enhypen#enhypen drabbles#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x you#jungwon x reader#jungwon fluff#jungwon imagines#jungwon scenarios#jungwon soft hours#jungwon x you
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My Sweet Siren
Every time I would just listen to old songs I always get some inspiration to write for Sanji I just don't know why!😅 anyway this is set during the Baratie and the reader is a singer there, anyway hope you enjoy! Certain things are changed to make it fitted in the story
Masterlist
Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader
(Y/N) the most beautiful singer of the Baratie, to Sanji's eyes she's the best thing of the Baratie, it's the only time he enjoys being a waiter cause he could listen to her sing and be mesmerised by her beauty,
Whenever it was closing time he always wanted to talk to her, to be near her but she was always gone before he could talk to her.
You always enjoy singing, you love the attention that you got, but you loved the attention more when Sanji was watching you, butterflies begin to form in your stomach whenever you would see Sanji standing near the stage watching you give a performance of a lifetime,
Zeff sees the way you two would look at each other, and he often just rolled his eyes and scoff, he always thinks that it was completely ridiculous,
It was one of those nights when you were about to preform, as Sanji was arguing with Zeff once again, he stormed out of the kitchen pissed off but his anger quickly fade when he had seen you, looking beautiful as always about to preform,
Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart?
Will I Be The Girl For You?
Will You Promise All Your Love To Me
As I Promise Mine To You?
Sanji smiled as he walked up to a table with new guests that had come to the Baratie, "hello welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing is good is our singer, my name is Sanji what can I get you?"
As Sanji taking the new people's orders, you can't help but look over at him, as you sing your heart out, the green hair man took note of you looking over at Sanji and pointed it out at the waiter, "it seems she really likes you waiter?" He glared at him for a moment before glancing over seeing (Y/N) looking directly at Sanji,
Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart?
Starting Now Until The End?
Will You Always Stay Close By My Side,
And On You Can I Depend?
You winked at him, in which he smirk up at you before returning his focus on the guest telling them he will get their food right away, he walked passed you as you felt your cheeks go red when he smiled softly at you, completely entrance by you,
And As Time Goes On And On,
Will We Laugh And Still Have Fun?
Will You Ways Be Sweet As They Are,
And Will I Be Your Only One?
Sanji walked back from the kitchen with the food that is for the guest, they thanked him and he went to a corner near a the stage watching you sing, it has always been like this way, but Sanji really want to talk to you, but with this job takes so much of his time he could never get a chance to,
Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart,
Will We Share All Things In Life?
Will You Always Love Me Faithfully,
Will I Someday Be Your Wife?
Just then completely drunken Pirates started whistling and becoming rowdy, annoying Sanji very much, knowing when they get so rowdy like this, fights will start, (Y/N) knows this and started to feel uncomfortable but continued on singing the final lyrics knowing she must finish her song,
Will I Always Be Your Sweetheart,
Will We Share All Things In Life?
Will You Always Love Me Faithfully,
Will I Someday Be Your Wife?
Please Don't Ever Stop Loving Me,
Let's Be Sweethearts All Through Life!
"I'll be your sweetheart honey if you give me a chance" (Y/N) yelped when one of the pirates start grabbing her dress, Sanji ran up to the pirates kicked him so hard he landed ontop of a dinning table, breaking it completely in half,
"Do not touch the lady" he gritted his teeth looking at the other pirates to see who wants to go first, the man in the straw hat looked in surprise, "he is a good fighter"
Just then another pirate try to charge at Sanji, but he was no match against Sanji and his kicks, as the guy fall across the floor, holding his side in pain, "anyone else wants to face me?" The rest of the drunken pirates scatter away, carrying away the two injured men with them, Sanji looked up to you and got up on the stage, he had his hand around your waist and the other on the cheek softly caressing your cheek, "are you okay?" He whispered softly you replied with a smile and a nodded,
He was slightly relieved you were fine, placing a sweet kiss upon your head, just then Zeff called out as Sanji looked over to see him standing there next to the broken tables, "what's all this boy?" He shouted in anger, Sanji sighted in annoyances and (Y/N) couldn't help but giggled quickly planting a kiss on Sanji's lips, surprising him, "I'll wait for you at the kitchen tonight" and you quickly scurried away, passing the new guest,
"That Waiter sure is a good fighter miss" you looked over at the man in the straw hat smiling towards him, "well that's Sanji, he is the best fighter of the Baratie"
#one piece sanji#vinsmoke sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji x y/n#sanji x y/n#sanji x reader#sanji x you#opla x reader#opla sanji x reader#sanji opla#black leg sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#one piece netflix#one piece live action
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✶ meet me at the net ; riize.
info. riize ot7 + reader. fluff. platonic mostly but can be interpreted as more.
description. riize as the volleyball team you’re the team manager for.
word count. 2.7k
warnings. volleyball-sustained bruises (sohee be careful pls).
listen to. orange by spyair.
as always, please leave feedback and reblog with feedback and tags as it’s the most important thing when it comes to motivating writers on here! without feedback, i have less motivation to keep writing so pls pls pls do not just like and empty reblog! it gets very draining and unmotivating to see when that happens!
쇼타로 、OSAKI SHOTARO !
position: setter, team captain.
the surprisingly powerful setter that many people usually look over. because of his pure personality, not many fear shotaro, an insanely quick witted player who seems to know the opponent’s weakness even at the last second. hits when people expect him to set someone up, dinks when people expect him to spike, because of this is such a powerful asset to their team. always does the unexpected even when players are already aware of his playing style and yet always has something up his sleeve. his bubbly personality disappears as soon as he steps onto the court. but he doesn’t turn into a huge, tall, intimidating opponent. instead, he’s quiet and swift and quick and somehow that’s even more terrifying to play against. despite being calm and stable on the court, when he’s on the sidelines with the others, he’s hyping everyone up with loud cheers - that’s when his bright personality shows and the opposing team is always so confused - especially since they’ve only ever seen him in the zone.
shotaro dotes on his teammates, always making sure they’re eating enough between matches and drinking enough water. “no wonbin, you cannot survive off of gatorade chews the whole day.” dotes on you as well, making sure you have enough space to sit on the bench if he ever gets subbed out and pushes the ball cart so you don’t have to when you move courts for a new match. will always find you between matches to help set up everyone’s lunches and folding chairs and helps you calm down the others if they’re being too rowdy and chaotic and just overall tries to make your job as the team manager easier. loves to braid your hair to calm himself down between matches, and asks if you can hold the earrings he always forgets he can’t wear during games.
은석 、SONG EUNSEOK !
position: opposite hitter
the most underrated hitter on the team just because of his position. because many focus on outside hitters, his skills are sometimes overlooked. yet when eunseok gets the chance to showcase them, he leaves everyone absolutely speechless with how well he is able to execute the quick back-sets shotaro sends him. sometimes, people don’t understand where he came from, seemingly popping out of nowhere on the court. people are further shocked at how good he is at line shots and cross shots, underestimating his quick thinking, especially with his high vertical that allows him the easily see the open gaps in their opponents’ set up. eunseok is quick on his feet, and never hesitates to dive to save the ball that nears the floor. has no problem with jousting up at the net and is always amazing at getting the ball out of it. he’s known for his powerful topspin jump serve as well, one that he’s definitely received aces for. he’s a quiet player, often only shouting when needed and quietly celebrating in the center while his teammates are the ones shouting. is not easily affected by intimidating players on the other team.
eunseok takes care of the team quietly. you’ve noticed that he’s the one picking up items that the others might forget, or quietly placing water bottles he had refilled back near the bench. he drapes towels on the others’ necks without a word, and yet he masks his caring ways under his quick retorts and unbothered personality. not that anyone never noticed - you along with everyone on the team knows of his considerate, caring nature. sure, he loves to tease you between or even during matches as he sees how much more stressed you are than the actual players and their coach, but that doesn’t nullify all his small acts of service for everyone. eunseok is often found standing at your side between matches, usually because he finds your presence calming before a big game. sometimes, you wake up with his warm up jacket covering you on the drive to the tournament venue in the early morning. seemingly the one to always let you borrow something of his and will have a knowing smug look on his face when he overhears someone compliment you for it, only to say “yeah, i agree,” without disclosing the fact that it’s his.
성찬 、JUNG SUNGCHAN !
position: middle blocker
with his height, sungchan was easily positioned as the middle blocker that would switch out for sohee, their libero. however, it is not only his height that catches people’s attention, nor his extremely handsome face that has onlookers' heads turning. sungchan is smart, and can easily read the opposing team’s next moves. hits rarely get past him, and when they do, he makes sure that instead of allowing the ball to drop straight through his hands to the floor, he makes sure to angle himself in a position that gives the defensive specialists a perfect angle to bump the ball back up. he knows how to turn a hard hit into an opportunity for their team. sungchan is a wall when it comes to blocking, and his height only adds to his wit and thinking as he plays in the front row. not only is sungchan and extremely powerfully blocker, but his long history of playing with shotaro allows him to hit the most unstoppable spikes. no one ever seems to know what these two have planned up their sleeve, not even their own team. but it always works.
sungchan is a ball of energy. he reminds you of a big puppy with the way he’s always hyping the team up, making sure to reassure them when the team happens to be stuck in a rut. he’s probably one of the loudest on the court. he refuses to let the others think badly about their plays, shutting down any possible thoughts of blaming themselves for losing a set or game. his bright energy catches everyone’s attention, and many people seem to fall for him. but sungchan sticks to your side between matches, making sure you always have everything you need and are eating enough while you make sure the team eats enough because “you need to take care of yourself too.” he always tries to gives up his seat for others, especially you, but you insist that he has to rest for their next match. insists on helping you make sure the air pressure in each ball at practice is full just because he likes to spend time with you. before each hit during warm-ups at matches, he turns and points to you, only to laugh when you shake your head after he shouts, “this is for you!” then proceeds to completely miss the quick set shotaro had sent him.
원빈 、PARK WONBIN !
position: defensive specialist, setter
he’s quiet. that’s for sure, though he always seems to get the job done and more. wonbin is a reliable silent threat, and not many people pay attention to him especially since he’s in the back row acting as one of the defensive specialists. he doesn’t mind that his role is underrated because it doesn’t matter to him. he knows how important his role is in the back row, backing up sohee (his fellow defensive player) to dig whatever spike comes at him. he’s especially good with overhead passes and can even act as a setter if shotaro happens to get the first touch. he may be silent, but when wonbin is playing, the ball never touches the ground. he’s quick on his feet and always seems to play scrappy - pulling out tricks that no one seems to even think about. he can hit back row spikes, for sure, but he prefers not to. one thing that makes people fear him are his floater serves. although his aren’t flashy jump serves, his floaters always seem to change direction in the most unrealistic way, swerving past the players on the other side of the net.
wonbin is very similar to haikyuu’s kenma, often not taking care of himself. he seems to take care of the team before himself, even if he’s about to collapse from exhaustion from back to back matches. that’s where you (and shotaro) come in, doting on him to make sure he eats. he’ll only refuse the first few times, so you shove a plate of food into his hands and sit down in front of him to make sure he eats. he’s shy as well, preferring to stick to you to hover his face over your shoulder as his teammates socialize with other teams. however wonbin has another side to him that only the team knows, one where he gets really crazy during practice and ends up busting out the most out of pocket sentences that have the whole team cracking up. it’s one of your favorite moments when wonbin seems to cut tension after losing a match, or mentioning something everyone noticed about something they saw during the day but never brought up because they were too embarrassed to. it has everyone laughing comfortably hysterically, because of course wonbin, the reserved one, is the one to bring it up unexpectedly.
승한 、HONG SEUNGHAN !
position: defensive specialist, opposite hitter, setter
the bright, positive player who seems to bring energy to a match on both sides of the court. he’s always talking despite his introverted personality, and he views it one of his strengths despite being an analytical defensive player on the court. he loves hitting back row, and kind of hates that he rarely gets to do it, but loves to fulfill any role that the team needs. seunghan has exceptional ball control, seemingly able to pass any serve that comes at him regardless of the skill level. he angles it so perfectly to shotaro, allowing the rest of the team to execute a perfectly-set up attack, and that alone has him satisfied. at first, he didn’t think he had an important role, but you had made him realize that defense is just as important if not more, than offense. seunghan can read dinks versus spikes very well, and his agility allows him to get to the ball quick, making him a valuable asset to the back row. seunghan also always encourages his teammates whether they earned a point or made a mistake, never allowing them to even think about blaming themselves.
the most excited, seunghan is the mood maker of the team. he’s the one to bring the most energy to matches, always extremely hyped up and bringing a portable speaker everywhere. seunghan loves to joke around and keeps up with a lot of the trends, being the one to convince you to create a team social media account. he practically runs it with the way he always seems to steal your phone to film the others and themselves between matches, goofing off and having fun. he’s the one to suggest filming one of those videos where the team crowds around the front camera from above, throwing balls, shoes, knee pads, whatever above their head and seeing who gets hit. he can get bummed out if he doesn’t do well, and at these times he finds you, clinging to you during lunch. you’ll be sitting on a bench with your plate out, and he’ll just be at your legs with his head in your lap or leaning against your knees. this is when his introverted personality shines through, and the team does everything to get their mood maker back to his best. after all, it’s what seunghan always does for them.
소희 、LEE SOHEE !
position: libero
even the slight angle of a setter’s wrist allows him to know who the setter is setting to, and sohee quickly adjusts himself to where that hitter had hit last. his brain is almost a computer with how much information he remembers: where the hitters tend to send their ball, how each player serves, which player on the other team seems to have a weakness they can use to their advantage. if sohee has a suggestion in a play, the others immediately follow because it always works. because of his cute aura and the reduced spotlight on back row players, no one expects him to be the mastermind behind the intense plays of the team. and that’s what makes it work. sohee is a secret weapon, because not only is he extremely meticulous, but he is not afraid to get on the floor to dig a hit. he refuses to let a ball drop without even trying for it, and if it does, punishes himself by diving post-play because he should’ve done it to get the ball in the first place. nevertheless, it’s rare for that to happen because sohee reads hitters and setters perfectly. sohee will not hesitate to run across the court to send the ball back over the net on the last touch if he needs to, and you can’t even count the amount of times you’d had to help him ice his shins after crashing into the bleachers to save a ball.
sohee is the team’s charger. everyone clings to him because just being around him is healing. and although he might not be used to the affection and all the skinship, he wills himself to get used to it because he knows how much it helps the team. he happily helps you with your managing duties, especially when you try to find recordings of the teams they’ll be playing against, helping you and their coach analyze it and relaying the information to shotaro. sometimes follows you like a duckling, both at tournaments or at practice, and is one to initiate dodgeball games with the volleyball at the end of practice, usually by throwing a ball in the air which “accidentally” hits anton while he sips on some water. always helps you set up the net for training too, making sure you don’t drop the heavy poles or fall from the post where the referees usually stand.
앤톤 、LEE CHANYOUNG !
position: outside hitter
if anything, he and sungchan are the most feared on the team, primarily due to their large stature. despite his soft spoken nature, anton is one of the physically strongest players on the team, having the hardest hits to pass. that makes him so qualified for being an outside hitter because his spikes often push past the blocks of the other team. he’s still a little new to jousting up at the top of the net, but sungchan’s been teaching him well - how to not feel bad for pushing against the opponents’ hands and how to make sure to be ready for the ball to drop back onto their side. anton was a newcomer to the team but advanced quickly, earning such an important offensive position early into his athletic career. he’s also a quiet player and had trouble calling for the ball at first, but as soon as he experienced the satisfaction of hitting such a perfectly executed spike that even sohee couldn’t pass during practice, he stopped hesitating to call shotaro to set him up. he’s still learning but he learns fast, much to the dismay of opposing teams, especially with his strong jump serve.
as the youngest, the team looks to dote on anton a lot. despite being used to being an older brother, he allows the team to cling to him as long as he can to you. he tries his best not to get in the way and just wants to make sure everything runs smoothly, refusing to let any disputes linger between the team by gently speaking up to try to clear the air. it’s rare that he has to do that, but the team usually calms down once they realize that anton’s the one who’s confronting the issue. anton is another to cling to you when socializing with other teams, though if he gets comfortable enough with the other players he’ll leave you with wonbin at your side. he also follows you around like a duckling, always asking if there’s anything he can do to help with your managing duties and always offering to help you set up for practice.
⌕. author’s note ; currently inspired by my long-lasting haikyuu hyperfixation and my disappointment when i found out they’re squeezing the rest of the manga into a movie instead of more seasons. this is coming from my experience playing volleyball for a good number of years (although keep in mind it’s been while!)
ꗃ. taglist ; @enhacolor @soobin-chois @koishua @chrysbibi
#riize imagines#riize headcanons#riize scenarios#riize reactions#riize fluff#riize x reader#riize au#shotaro imagines#eunseok imagines#sungchan imagines#wonbin imagines#seunghan imagines#sohee imagines#anton imagines#shotaro x reader#eunseok x reader#sungchan x reader#wonbin x reader#seunghan x reader#sohee x reader#anton x reader#riize x you
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hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) — reader x satoru gojo
notes: yes, hello, here it is, the infamous lonely stranger fic. i mentioned the idea a couple months back to @willowser i thought i'd write it after finishing shine on the sea, but as usual, where gojo is concerned i'm eating my words. title comes from this song. i apologize for me love of weeb music. anyway. i hope you enjoy.
contains: fem!reader (no pronouns, no physical description), typical annoying satoru gojo antics, the faintest hint of possessive/jealous gojo, unresolved romantic tension, allusions to canon typical violence
wc: 6.4k [ao3 link; account required]
There are a lot of places where you’d expect to run into Satoru Gojo.
A match-making party is most definitely not one of them.
First of all, why is he even here? You have no doubt that the world’s strongest sorcerer has much more important things to do than attend a match-making party. Not that he even needs to in the first place. Even without the status and the prestige that his family name brings, his looks alone are more than enough to get people to throw themselves at his feet. That being said, his personality is definitely off-putting enough to make some marriage candidates run the other way. So, who knows, maybe he does need help finding a spouse after all.
You grimace, watching in real time as some of the bolder participants make a beeline toward him, eager to mingle with objectively the most attractive man in the room before the event officially begins. Even from your spot across the hotel ballroom you can see him basking in all the attention. Maybe that’s the real reason why he’s here.
After all, there’s no one who owns the limelight like Satoru Gojo.
Even though it is nothing new to you, there’s something about watching all these people fawn over him that makes you sick to your stomach. You tell yourself it’s because they’re being fooled by him and his offensively handsome face and not because you’re upset that he’s here.
You were actually kind of looking forward to this match-making party, but now you’re annoyed and it's all Gojo’s fault. You’ll have to avoid him as much as you can. It shouldn’t be too hard later on when everyone is free to converse with whoever they want, but before that is the speed dating portion. It’s an unfortunate inevitability that you will have to sit across from Satoru Gojo for two minutes of the hour-long speed-dating session, but maybe you’ll be lucky and maybe he’ll be one of the last, if not the last person for you.
In hindsight, you feel like you should have known better than to hope that luck would have your back when it’s always, always favored Satoru Gojo.
At first, you think it's merciful, sparing you from having to deal with him first. It would have really sucked for you to go through all your speed-dates in a Gojo-induced bad mood. But as he comes closer and closer one two minute interval at a time, you start to wish that you'd started with him first, and just gotten it out of the way.
Despite the threat of Satoru Gojo looming over your head, you do your best to focus on the people who come to your table. Two minutes is not a lot of time at all. Some seem to realize that and try to squeeze as much talking as they can in that amount of time. Some are paralyzed by it; awkwardly floundering for the hundred twenty seconds given to them. There are a couple people that you manage to enjoy a nice, albeit short, conversation with. Despite that, you still find yourself sneaking glances in Gojo's direction, hyper aware of the dwindling number of people sitting between you.
The man sitting before you now, Tasuke Tomoda, you think his name is, leans in toward you and gestures for you to do the same. He's the last person separating you from Gojo and he's been pretty pleasant so far, so you do as he asks and move a little bit closer to him.
"So, uh, I've noticed that you keep looking over there." His voice is barely audible as he inclines his head just slightly in Gojo's direction. “At him.”
You inhale sharply. This guy is the first one who’s noticed, or, at least, the first who's decided to say anything about it. You feel a bit ashamed to have been caught, especially when you thought you’d been discreet.
Just as you’re about to offer an apology, Tomoda adds, “I’m not mad or anything. I mean… he’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”
Before you can stop it, you grimace and Tomoda catches it, his eyes widening in obvious surprise. “You don’t think so?”
You don’t need to think so; you know so— for as long as you have been unfortunate to know him, Satoru Gojo has taken great pleasure in flaunting his good looks whenever possible. You scowl and admit, your voice an annoyed sort of murmur, “His looks are fine, I guess, but his personality…”
You don't know where to begin and you don't know if you should.
Tomoda’s gaze flits toward Gojo and he moves even closer, whispering so quiet that nobody else can hear. “...yeah, he does kinda look like an asshole, doesn’t he?”
You reel backwards, laughing so loud that everyone else can hear. Embarrassment flashes throughout your entire body when you realize that both couples on either side of you have gone completely silent and four pairs of eyes are now on you and Tomoda. Oops. Immediately, the both of you bow your heads in unison to one couple, then the next (with you taking great care to not look at Gojo).
Once their conversations resume, you give Tomoda an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout that."
"It's fine!" Tomoda gives you a good natured sort of chuckle. "I'm just glad to have gotten a laugh out of you."
You blink, confused. "Why?"
His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and you think it’s kind of cute. “Well, it’s just that I think—"
You lean in.
"—that you're really—"
The bell signifying to change partners echoes throughout the event hall, startling Tomoda out of whatever he was going to say.
Has it really been two minutes already?
Tomoda starts to rise to switch seats, but he looks conflicted, like he still wants to say his piece.
"Wait," you tell him and you're not sure if it's because you want to delay Gojo's inevitable arrival or because you actually want to know what Tomoda was going to say.
He stops, his mouth half open. Tomoda stares and you see the hesitation swimming in his eyes. It only lasts a second though and his mouth shuts as he makes his decision. He takes a deep breath and—
"Excuse me!"
Your stomach lurches at the sound of the playful voice you know far, far too well. Tomoda looks like his soul is about to leave his body rather than his words. Slowly, reluctantly, you both turn your heads to look at the interloper.
You’d tried not to pay too close attention to Gojo when he’d walked in, but with him practically in your face right now, your eyes can’t seem to help but be drawn in. It feels like he really went all out tonight. His suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his long legs and slender yet built figure. The colors compliment his pale, flawless skin, his snow white hair and his infamous sky blue eyes. Gojo’s entire look is completed with a pair of sunglasses, over which he’s peering down at you and Tomoda.
There’s something about the amused glow in those dumb eyes of his that manages to royally pisses you off. You scowl at him, but he ignores you, his expression unchanging as he directs his attention to Tomoda.
"It's my turn now, you know," Gojo points out and while his tone is friendly enough, both you and Tomoda can clearly hear what Gojo is actually saying.
Leave.
"Right! I'm really sorry about that!" Tomoda exclaims as he basically leaps out of his seat and scrambles over to the next table. His table mate stares— not just at Tomoda, but at you and Gojo as well. You can feel the pair on the other side staring too.
Fucking Gojo.
He is completely and unwholly unbothered as he plops down in the seat opposite you, a self-satisfying smile plastered to his face. Annoyed, you cross your arms over your chest and huff, “Did you really need to cause a scene?”
“Hey, you started it,” Gojo says with a chuckle. “Actually, I think you were so loud that everyone heard.”
“Shut up,” you hiss, throwing your most venomous glare in Gojo’s direction, hoping that, for once in his damn life he listens.
Naturally, he doesn’t.
“So, what’d that guy say that was so funny?” Gojo’s tone is casual, almost nonchalant as he leans in your direction. He reaches up with one hand to adjust his glasses, pulling them down just enough to reveal the shocking blue of his eyes staring you down.
You know he means to disarm you this way, to make you spill, but you manage to hold your ground. “Who knows? That’s between me and him.”
Gojo tilts his head to the side, still smiling as he responds. “Oh? You into that guy?”
“And if I was?” you ask, your words nearly a challenge. In all honesty, you don’t know if you can say if you’re into Tomoda or not. He’s certainly made the biggest impression out of everyone you’ve talked to so far and you wouldn’t be against hitting him up during the free talk section of the event. Who knows? Maybe you just need to talk to him a little more to find out.
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s not going to work out.”
“You don’t know that,” you shoot back, feeling defensive because Gojo doesn’t know. There’s no way he could. His stupid Six Eyes can see a lot of things, but the future is not one of them.
“I do actually,” Gojo responds simply. His voice is even, with none of his characteristic smugness woven in. That being said, you think you catch the meaning in his words and it angers you even more. Just because you’re a sorcerer that doesn’t mean your dating pool needs to be confined to the members of jujutsu society. You know a few sorcerers who have dated, and even married non-sorcerers.
“Wrong! You don’t know anything,” you insist viciously and if you were anywhere else you’d be just about ready to start throwing punches. You’ve never beaten Gojo in a fight (except maybe once, but you don’t count that because you know he threw that fight), but he’s always down to brawl with you.
“I happen to know plenty of things,” Gojo grins at you, pleased and you watch, in real time, as his delight turns devious. “Like I know that you were checkin’ me out earlier.”
Your entire body heats up and you’re not quite sure if it’s from rage or embarrassment. Another eyeful of the smirk on Gojo’s face is enough for you to decide that it must be rage. “I was not.”
“You so were,” Gojo teases, infuriatingly gleeful in his retort. “I totally get it, and it’s completely okay if you want to tell me how sexy I look tonight.”
“Hell no!” you almost yell, ignoring the growing heat in your stomach. Has it been two minutes yet? There’s no way that this clown’s time isn’t up yet. You glance at the big timer the event’s organizers have set up and… you still have half a minute with this fool.
It’s going to be the longest thirty seconds of your goddamn life.
“Come on,” Gojo nudges at you in that playful tone of his, seemingly determined to use every second he has to annoy you. “Don’t you want to tell me?”
“For someone as confident as you claim to be, you sure are desperate for validation,” you dead pan.
He ignores you. “Okay, okay, since you're feeling shy, I'll go ahead and say it: Satoru Gojo is the hottest guy here!"
You think you're going to hurl from all the second hand embarrassment. It's not like it's unnatural for Gojo to be so unashamedly confident but at an event like this you think it's probably a big no-no. "Gojo?"
“Yes?” He sounds chipper, like he thinks you’re going to compliment him after all, but when it comes to Gojo, you live to disappoint.
“Why the hell are you even here?” you ask in exasperation. Gojo has fifteen or so seconds left but you figure you might as well get something out of this exchange with him, “I doubt someone like you has a need to come to things like this, so why?”
A surprised look flashes across Gojo’s features, but he quickly conceals it behind a mischievous smirk. "You jealous?"
He punctuates his question with a wink and you roll your eyes. "As if.”
“Uh huh.”
Five seconds left. “Maybe the jealous one here is actually you.”
You don’t entirely mean it when you say it; you really intend to make one last dig at Gojo before he moves on to the next person. Plus, you don’t even really think it’ll affect him all that much, things like that never really do. At least, you’ll get the last word here.
Or that’s what you think. You should have known better.
Gojo flashes a smile at you and for a few seconds you completely forget what breathing is. You’re used to playful smiles and teasing smiles, but the look that he’s giving you right now is different somehow. There’s something about the curve of his lips, about the borderline gentle glimmer of his crystalline eyes that sets your heartbeat into a frenzy.
Just as you remember how to breathe, he speaks, stealing your breath away all over again, “Who knows. Maybe I am.”
The bell finally rings, telling you that your two minutes with Satoru Gojo are now over, but you barely even register it— your eyes fixed on the man before you.
Just like Tomoda, before him, Gojo lingers, and he looks almost a little pleased with himself. The familiar expression snaps you out of your stupor and you glower at him, shooing him away like he’s unwanted.
Like you don’t want him to stay.
Like you don’t want to ask him what in the world was all that about.
Because you don’t, you really don’t. There’s no need to, you tell yourself. It’s just another one of the whacky mind games Gojo likes to play with you.
But even as the next person sits down across from you, you can’t get the look on Gojo’s face out of your mind. Even as they introduce themselves, the only thing you hear are Gojo’s last words.
“Who knows. Maybe I am.”
That’s crazy talk. He had to be fucking with you because there’s no way. No way that Satoru Gojo, of all people, would feel jealous.
Even though you know that, you can’t get what he said out of your mind and before you know it, the speed dating section of the match-making event is over and you don’t remember a damn thing about anyone who came after Gojo.
You’re annoyed. You’re so fucking annoyed that you wasted so much damn time thinking about that stupid blue eyed bastard, but it’s fine. It’s completely and totally fine, because you still have the free talk session. If you’re lucky, one of the people who came to you after Gojo will be interested enough to come chat you up and give you the chance to make up for the fact you had temporarily lost your mind thanks to one Satoru Gojo.
And if you’re unlucky… Well, you’re confident in the thought that it should be fine to seek out Tomoda. In fact, you decide to do that first. Better to just go for it than wait around. You survey the ballroom that you’re all in and you catch sight of the man off to the side, looking around somewhat shyly.
Is he looking for you?
You don’t want to get ahead of yourself, but it’s a nice thought. Nice, but… You shake your head; you don’t want to think about him right now. Before the traitorous thoughts can sneak back into your mind, you march over to where Tomoda is standing, tightly gripping the cards in your hand. At the beginning of the event, the staff had handed these cards out, instructing everyone to fill them out so that you could easily exchange contact information with anyone who caught your interest. And since Tomoda’s the only one who qualifies, it’s only natural that you give him one.
A relieved smile spreads across his features when he notices you and it makes you think that he really was looking for you after all.
You offer him a small smile of your own. “Hey.”
“Hi!” he squeaks and his expression turns a little sheepish.
You tilt your head in confusion. "What's up?"
"Just… a little surprised that you came to find me.”
"Huh? Why?"
Tomoda frowns, looking conflicted and, finally, he answers in a slow voice. "Well, that really handsome looking asshole seemed like he was really into you."
You blink.
Huh.
Huh?
Huh!?
You nearly double over in laughter. No offense to Tomoda but the thought is just flat out ridiculous. Satoru Gojo is into you? No way. Absolutely no way in hell. Not in a thousand, no, a million years would Gojo seriously—
"Who knows. Maybe I am."
Suddenly, your mouth is dry, your laughter dying in your throat as Gojo's words echo in your head yet again. There's no way he was serious then, right? He only said that to mess with you, to get the last word in, because there's no way, definitely no way…
You take a deep breath to compose yourself. Tomoda is still there and you're grateful that he hasn’t walked away thinking that you’re completely out of your mind. You take another breath, just in case, before you attempt to say anything. "What makes you think that?"
"Other than the obvious?" Tomoda asks, his tone a touch dry, and you frown, remembering how Gojo had made a scene earlier.
"...yes," you finally grumble when you realize that Tomoda is actually looking for an answer. "Other than that."
For some unknown reason, he seems hesitant to say anything further, but you gesture at him, urging him to speak. "Well, he… I noticed that he kept looking over at you after his turn.”
"That's because—" you start but then stop short when you realize that you actually have no answer. Your brain goes into overdrive trying to think of some kind of explanation, some kind of reason as to why Gojo would possibly…
"Who knows. Maybe I am."
The words are louder now. Almost deafening.
Still, you try to block them out.
"That's because he said something before we switched," you say desperately, like you’re grasping at straws. "I think he was just trying to fuck with me for the hell of it and, I don't know, maybe he kept looking to see how good of a job he did?"
Your lame explanation doesn’t seem to convince Tomoda. It doesn’t really convince you either. You rifle through your thoughts, trying to find some other possible reason, but everything you find seems to support Tomoda’s claim that, somehow, some way, Satoru Gojo is into you.
Tomoda looks like he’s trying to figure it out too, his expression contemplative. "...do you mind if I ask you a question?”
"...go ahead, shoot."
"You two knew each other before this, right?”
"Unfortunately," you admit begrudgingly. "But I didn't know he'd be here tonight."
Tomoda hums and nods his head slowly as he takes your words into consideration. He pauses, and then starts nodding again, quicker this time and you wonder if he’s figured something out. His expression shifts and you recognize this look; it’s the same as earlier when he was leaving your table. There’s something he wants to say, but he’s not sure if he should.
You have the distinct feeling that you're not going to like whatever it is, but still you push him to say it all the same. "What is it?"
Tomoda stares at you. Given the fact that this is a match-making event, you would expect some level of agitation or annoyance on his part, but the only thing you see in his bright, kind eyes is a curious glint. "Are you into that guy?”
No.
That's what you expect to say because that’s what you always say, but when your lips part to answer Tomoda's seemingly innocuous question nothing comes out. Yet the word remains there, stuck to the tip of your tongue and you don't understand why.
Maybe it’s the earnest look in Tomoda’s eyes or the strange and irritating feeling that’s been lurking in your chest ever since Gojo spoke to you earlier, but something, something is holding your denial at bay. More than that, it’s bidding you to actually be honest with yourself.
Because deep down you know the answer, and, worse than that, you know it isn’t no.
The truth fills your mouth, the shape of it uncomfortable and heavy in your jaw. It’s almost too much to handle, to keep in; one slip of the tongue and you’ll end up spilling it everywhere. If that happens— when that happens, you won’t be able to take it back.
When that happens, you won’t be able to deny Satoru Gojo any more.
And truthfully, the thought of it frightens you. That’s why you’ve kept your feelings buried deep inside you. That’s why you’re here at this match-making event, seeking a love that doesn’t scare you shitless. That’s why you keep denying Satoru Gojo’s presence in your heart.
Are you into him? Do you have feelings for him? Do you love him? You think the more important question here is are you truly prepared to answer these questions? Are you honestly ready to confront the feelings you’ve kept deep in your heart and the reality that comes with that?
When it comes down to it… you’re not.
Not here and not now.
You clamp your jaw down and forcefully swallow your feelings, condemning them back to the confines of your heart. They settle there, still uncomfortable, still heavy, but you’ll deal with them later, when they are not threatening to free themselves from the cage of your mouth.
Decision made, you look Tomoda in the eye and declare, “No, I’m not.”
He stares back at you and you can tell that he doesn’t believe you. Not one bit. But if anything, you are stubborn, persistent even. You swing one arm toward him, thrusting one of your contact cards in his direction as an offering, a prayer that, even for just a little bit, he’ll indulge your delusions.
Tomoda looks conflicted, like he’s biting his tongue and his gaze flickers between the card and your face. Finally, it stops on your face. His eyebrows furrow together in what is clearly concern, “Listen, you don’t—”
He stops short when you throw up your other arm, presenting the rest of your contact cards to him. You mean to send a message in the gesture, though honestly, at this point it’s probably futile. Still, you have to try.
Tomoda’s eyes ease down to the three cards fanned out before him, but he makes no move to take any of them. Instead, he sighs, clearly sympathetic when he looks at you directly. You see yourself reflected in his eyes and you look more desperate than determined.
Once again, he opens his mouth to speak, but this time you beat him to the punch, and you plead, “Please.”
Tomoda doesn’t move.
“Please,” you insist.
He continues to hold your gaze before, eventually, his shoulders slump, a clear sign that he’s given into you. You smile wryly; this man is truly too kind for his own good. Hopefully, he lives a long, happy life, free from the curses that plague your day-to-day life.
“...it’s not going to work out.”
Gojo’s voice echoes in your head once more, almost mocking you, and your hands waver just a tiny bit. You didn’t need him to tell you because deep down you already knew. It’s still annoying, but you manage to keep the disdain off your face for Tomoda’s sake.
Besides, it doesn’t mean that you can’t be friends. You think that, at least, that much should be fine.
Having finally given into your demands, Tomoda starts to reach for your cards. Just as he’s about to grasp them, another hand, pale with long, slender fingers shoots out and swipes all three cards from your grasp. Your head whips up to look at the interloper and, of course, who else do you find but Satoru Gojo, his trademark grin plastered to his face.
“I’ll be taking these,” he announces casually, slipping your cards into his shirt pocket.
You gape wordlessly at him and he continues to smile at you like some sort of angelic devil. Then, as swiftly as he appeared, he turns on his heel and walks off into the crowd.
Slowly, you turn to look back at Tomoda, who turns to look at you. He seems as stunned as you feel, but you think he recovers first. The man gives you a gentle smile and you think that he truly deserves the world— a world you can’t and could never give him.
“You want to go after him, don’t you?” he asks. You can’t even begin to comprehend why, but he sounds almost amused. Is whatever’s going on between you and Gojo entertaining or something?
Scowling, you answer, “If only to beat his stupid handsome face in.”
This time you’re the one who’s made Tomoda laugh and it alleviates your annoyance just a bit. “Go on, then, I’ll be cheering for you.”
“It’s not like that,” you say automatically.
“If you say so.”
You sigh, ready to follow after that damn idiot, but before you do, you bow in Tomoda’s direction and tell him, earnestly, “I’m really sorry.”
He chuckles again and gestures for you to go. “Get going then, you don’t want to lose him.”
You feel like there’s some kind of double meaning in his words, but he’s right; if you linger too long you might not be able to catch up to Gojo. For good measure, you bow once more before taking your leave.
It’s lucky that Gojo is so damn tall— you spot him almost immediately, at the entrance to the ballroom. You trail after him, expertly weaving through everyone else in the room, but by the time you reach the ballroom doors he’s already gone.
Damn that man and his long legs.
“Excuse me.”
You turn to face whoever is speaking to you, actually hoping that it’s not a potential suitor. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, it’s one of the event staff.
“Yes?” you answer carefully, praying that they’re not about to reprimand you for the outburst you had earlier.
“If you’re looking for that handsome gentleman, he headed that way,” the staff member informs you, pointing down the hallway. At the other end you see a large sign indicating the hotel’s garden is in that direction. It’s a weird place for Gojo to go, but then again he’s just like that sometimes. Grateful, you bow to thank the event staffer before heading in the direction they indicated.
When you walk out into the garden, it feels almost as if you’ve been transported to another world entirely. The night air is cool on your face, and the loud chatter of the ballroom is completely gone, replaced with the gentle sound of running water. Maybe there’s some sort of fountain nearby. Looking around, you step further into the garden. You’re surrounded by a canopy of trees, their branches adorn with fairy lights that illuminate the area in a soft, warm glow. You remember reading that this hotel is a popular wedding venue and you wonder if this garden is where they hold the ceremonies. It would make sense, but it appears that no one is getting married here tonight.
There’s no sign of Gojo though.
The garden is pretty big, so you keep searching. As you walk, the sound of water grows louder and soon enough you find yourself at what has to be the center of the garden. Your entire body stills, your jaw nearly dropping as you take in the sight before you. The fountain you had speculated about turns out to be much, much larger than you thought. It’s really more like a stone pool than a fountain. It’s surrounded by decorative stone structures, which seem to be fountains themselves, feeding water into the pool. Finally, you take a step closer, and you notice the fountain is illuminated, giving the water a soft, ethereal glow. Running through the center of the pool, bisecting it, is a disjointed stone pathway, the steps spaced enough to reveal the water beneath, but close enough to prevent a bridal train or anyone paying attention to where they’re stepping from taking an unwanted dip.
At the end of the pathway is a small landing, a small, square island in the middle of the pool. The edges are decorated in flowers and decorative stone lanterns. It’s picturesque and you think that this must be where people exchange their vows and promises of everlasting love.
It’s here where you find Satoru Gojo.
His back is to you, and you could, if you wanted, turn back around and leave him here.
But you don’t.
You make your way toward him, carefully stepping onto the stone pathway as if you might slip or sink into the water beneath. When you’re sure of your footing you take a step forward, then another, and another. Just as you’re about to make it to the landing, Gojo turns around to face you. He smiles, and your entire body goes still at the sight. The look on his face is far softer, far sweeter than you’re used to. If you were crazy, you’d go so far as to say that it looks almost loving.
He takes a step toward you, and then another and another. With each step he takes, your heartbeat grows louder and more erratic, the sound of it filling your ears. Your eyes are fixed on Gojo as he approaches and you wonder if his infinity is up because it almost feels like the closer he gets the slower he goes.
But eventually, he does reach you.
Gojo looks down at you and you can see that amused sparkle in his eyes as he says, “Look who decided to join me tonight.”
The sound of his voice frees you from your daze and you glare at him. “Cut the crap, Gojo.”
His lips curve, forming an expression you’re more familiar with, one you’re used to wrangling. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb; it’s not cute,” you hiss, earning you the smallest pout from him. You ignore it. “Why’d you take my cards earlier?”
“I—” he begins, enunciating dramatically, “was saving you from a world of heartbreak.”
“Were you?” you ask, your voice less of a challenge than it was before.You can tell Gojo notices from the shift in his expression.
He doesn’t say anything about it though, and he continues, his voice dropping to something more somber, more serious. “It wouldn’t work out.”
You look into his eyes, staring at the endless sparkling blue sky within them and consider arguing with him, disagreeing with him because it’s like second nature to you.
But you decide not to.
Instead, you look away as you admit, “I know.”
Gojo doesn’t laugh or gloat and it makes you wonder if your confession surprises him. You don’t check though, and continue speaking, your voice low, “Tomoda's a nice guy. He deserves a happy, normal love and that's… not something I can promise him."
For as long as you are a jujutsu sorcerer, your life will always be in danger. Every mission carries not only the risk of death, but the chance that you won't even make it home in a body bag. The stress of that, the fear of it, isn't something you can carelessly give to someone else, especially not someone you’d want to spend the rest of your life with. You’d like to think it’d be different with another jujutsu sorcerer, someone who knows the reality of the world you’re part of, but even then you have your doubts.
"So," Gojo's voice is strangely quiet and you notice there's something, some emotion you don't recognize saturating his tone, "you into that guy?"
You sigh as you answer, honestly this time, "No. I'm not."
Gojo doesn't say anything in response— no wiseass quip, no pompous remark, nothing. You don't mind, but it's very odd for him to be silent.
Naturally, it doesn't last for long.
"You know," he drawls, his tone suddenly playful. "Even though I was obviously the hottest person in the room, you looked pretty good yourself."
It feels like all the air has been knocked out of you. The compliment, on its own, is strange because you can't even remember the last time Gojo complimented you, if he ever has, but more than that, where in the world did that come from? You know Gojo has a penchant for unpredictable behavior, but this is something else.
In your shock, you turn to face him, and you realize that the compliment was just the tip of the iceberg. He's leaning down, his gaze fixed on you, the blue glow of his eyes wiping the knowledge of how to breathe from your mind. His palm ghosts over your cheek, and though he's not touching you, you can still feel the warmth emanating off it. You are hyper aware of him coming closer, his face, his lips approaching yours.
No, no, no.
It has to be some illusion, some trick of the mind, because there's no way that Satoru Gojo actually wants to—
Bewildered, you take a step back and your foot manages to wedge itself in one of the gaps of the stone pathway. You wobble, thrown entirely off balance. Seconds later, you're falling sideways straight into the water.
Gojo stares down at you, actually looking shocked for once and you wish you had your phone out to take a picture. It doesn't take long for him to get over it and he starts to laugh uncontrollably.
You glare at him like a drenched cat and raise your hand to splash at him. Weirdly enough, he lets the water hit him, his infinity remaining inactive.
"Don't laugh!" you snap at him.
Of course, he keeps laughing.
You try to lift yourself out of the water, but the river stones beneath you are too slippery for you to get a good grip. If you reposition yourself you think you could do it, but if you do your clothes will be completely drenched and that's the last thing you want right now.
With an exasperated sigh, you ask, "Gojo, will you please help me?"
He snickers, "Wow. Didn't think you'd actually ask."
You glare at him.
"Okay, okay," he steps toward you and outstretches one of his hands for you to take. For once, you don't hesitate to take it and Gojo pulls you from the water with ease, but you think that maybe he uses a little too much force as you collide with the expanse of his chest.
This is too close! You try to take another step back, but Gojo is faster, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from moving.
"Careful," he warns and you think he's teasing you. Is it just you, or is his voice just a touch deeper than normal? Regardless, the sound manages to scramble your thoughts a little. "Or you'll end up taking another dip."
"...right," you mumble, trying to straighten your thoughts. "Thanks."
You think Gojo will let you go.
But he doesn't, and the two of you remain there, pressed close. You're sure the wetness of your clothes is spreading to his, slowly messing up that expensive suit of his. Gojo doesn't seem to care though, but maybe that's because it's just water.
"...you could do it, if you wanted," Gojo's voice is barely audible.
"Huh?"
When he speaks again, it's louder this time, "Give someone a normal, happy love. It's not like you're completely broken or anything like that."
You blink, confused. What is he talking about? Then it clicks and you explain, "That's not it."
Now it seems like Gojo’s confused for once. "Huh?"
"I meant… he’s a non-sorcerer, so…" you trail off, not wanting to explain. Gojo should be able to catch your drift.
He does. “Right, right. It’d suck for your non-sorcerer boyfriend if you were to just suddenly die a terrible and horrific death, huh.”
A little too well. “I think it’d suck for my sorcerer boyfriend too, if I had one.”
“That’s probably true, but if your boyfriend was a sorcerer, then maybe you’d die cruel and unusual deaths together. That’s romantic, isn’t it?”
“Actually, I think it’s kind of morbid.”
You think you feel Gojo’s arms shift, as if his grip is tightening ever so slightly around you. But then he starts to laugh and you figure it must have just been your imagination. You don’t really get why he’s laughing, though.
"What's so funny?" You ask when his laughter finally dies down.
"Nothing!"
You sigh. Should have known better than to think he’d give you a straight answer.
Gojo finally steps away from you, taking the warmth of his body with him and you dismally realize that you rather enjoyed him being so close. Desperately, you try to tell yourself that it’s because with him gone you’re remembering how cold and wet your clothes are right now and not for any other reason.
It's going to suck going all the way home like this.
You hear the sound of rustling cloth and as you look up you catch Gojo draping his giant blazer over your shoulders. It's warm and before you realize what you're doing you're tugging it closer around you, the scent of Gojo's cologne filling your nostrils. It’s nice you think, definitely expensive, but nice.
He stares at you, the expression on his face the strangest one yet.
"What?" you ask.
Gojo merely shakes his head again and it's obvious he plans to keep this to himself too. "Come on, let's go. Can't have you catching a cold now, hm?"
He grabs you by the wrist and starts to pull you toward the garden exit. And, maybe you're imagining it, but you think you might see the palest shade pink dusting the tips of his ears.
extra scene can be found here. :3c
#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x y/n#nikuniku fics#i have a lot to say about this fic but i will do so elsewhere#infinite loop!verse
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king of my heart
"the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" || tom blyth x singer!reader
a/n: inspired by ts once again !!!
i'm perfectly fine, i live on my own
i made up my mind, i'm better off bein' alone
you had spent the last few years being single and throwing yourself into your work. that was evident through the sheer amount of music you'd made in the last five years and the world tours you'd gone on.
after your messy break up a few years ago, you'd sworn off love and relationships lately. though, they did make great inspiration for music. but throwing yourself into your work for the past three years had consequences. you were feeling burnt out after your latest world tour and your manager had strongly urged you to take a break for awhile. not to mention you were in a rut. you hadn't wrote a single song in months. nothing inspired you, all of the songs you tried to write sounded wrong.
we met a few weeks ago
now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes
rachel was a good friend of yours, you had met on at a red carpet once and became fast friends. she had recently finished up filming for a project and was in new york. she wanted to meet up with you and introduce you to her cast mates.
that's when you met tom. there was an instant attraction between you two, there was no doubt about it. everyone in the room could feel it. tom, luckily, also lived in new york. but he lived in brooklyn while you lived in manhattan. but he was constantly calling you, asking you to meet up or come over and hang out. nearly every day he was free he'd call you up.
salute to me, i'm your american queen
and you move to me like i'm a motown beat
and we rule the kingdom inside my room
you two were just hanging out in your bedroom, listening to your vinyl records. stand by me started playing, softly filling the room. "dance with me," tom stands, offering his hand to you. you just smile and agree, standing up. his arm snakes around your waist as your hand makes its way to his shoulder. you lay your head on his chest as you two sway to the music.
"this is nice," you whisper out as the song ends. "i like spending time with you. hours feel like minutes here," he responds as he spins you around, causing you to erupt in giggles at his antics. you continue to dance around the room until the sun sets behind you, lost in your own world with tom. when you were with him, everything else melted into the background. it was like the only thing in focus was tom.
'cause all the boys and their expensive cars
with their range rovers and their jaguars
never took me quite where you do
you had reluctantly agreed to a date with someone one of your model friends had set you up with. he picked you up from your apartment in his flashy car, drawing attention to you two from everyone around you. you weren't quite used to all this attention, you had been a lot more private in recent years.
the date was absolutely terrible. he took you to some upscale restaurant that served expensive dishes that were only 1-2 bites each. as he drove you back to your place, all you could think of was how you wish you'd just stayed home and gotten take out with tom. you'd be a lot less hungry and a lot more happy if you'd done so.
after being dropped off, you texted gigi that you're never letting her set you up again. after texting her, you called tom. he picked up almost immediately, as if he was waiting for you. "that was the worst date ever!" you shout, once the call connects. all you hear is his melodic laugh in response. "i wish i would've just stayed home and gotten take out. i'm starving. the restaurant we went to didn't fill me at all!”
"how about i come over and pick up something up on the way there? we can watch a movie or two and you can tell me more about how much of a disaster it was." you smile at his suggestion. "that sounds great, i'll see you soon?" you answer, happily. "see you soon, love." he hangs up. you smile, couldn't wait.
and all at once, you are the one i have been waiting for
king of my heart, body and soul
being with tom felt easy. you didn't realize it at first, but then all of a sudden he was embedded in every part of your life. being with him was as easy as breathing. it came naturally to the two of you. he had somehow snuck in and captured your heart.
"i love you," you whisper out as the two of you stare up at the stars. you'd decided to go on a camping trip upstate. you were laying on a blanket, cuddling. it just felt right with him. nothing was ever forced. it was simple.
tom sits up abruptly at your words, looking into your eyes "do you mean it?" he asks, unsure. "you're the king of my heart, body and soul." you state, staring back at him. a huge grin making its way onto his face. "i love you, i have for awhile. i was just too scared to say it first. i wasn't sure if you felt the same." he admits, a little shy.
"you are my everything. there's nothing i wouldn't do for you." you admit to him, leaning in and placing a delicate kiss on his lips. you feel him smile into the kiss as he deepens it, pushing you to lay on the blanket and crawling on top of you.
late in the night, the city's asleep
your love is a secret i'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep
"shhh, don't be so loud! it's like 3am." you whisper shout at tom as you two walk through london. it was a stunning city, even more so with him by your side. "i love this woman!!!! i'm so glad she's mine!!!" he shouts into the open air, spinning in circles and laughing. his silliness causes you to laugh at him, playfully slapping him on the chest, trying to get him to shut up.
tomorrow was the world premiere of the ballad of songbirds and snakes. you were so excited for him and the rest of the cast, but there was a selfish part of you that wanted to keep him to yourself. you didn't want him to become the internet's boyfriend or the 'white boy of the month'. you wanted to keep your love a secret from the world.
you wanted to shield the budding love from the cruelty of not only the world, but the tabloids. the press had ruined your previous relationships, breaking the trust you'd previously shared because of false rumors and speculations. you know tom wasn't like that, but you didn't want to be proved wrong. you just wanted to hold onto this secret for a little longer.
change my priorities
the taste of your lips is my idea of luxury
some people may have labeled you as materialistic in the past, your countless new shoes and outfits adding fuel to the fire. but, as of late, your priorities had changed. you no longer cared for material goods, the only thing you desired was tom. everything about tom, you wanted. his hugs, his kisses, and especially his love for you. his love would be worth more than anything money could buy you.
is this the end of all the endings?
my broken bones are mending
with all these nights we're spending
shortly after meeting tom, you were reinvigorated. he was your muse. he mended your heart and gave you inspiration to write once again. no longer were you writing sad songs about ended relationships, but songs confessing your love to him. by the time you had known him for six months, you'd already written enough songs for two 20 song albums and a few extra for deluxe editions.
the more time you spent with him, the more songs you were inspired to write because of him. your agent had wanted to kiss him on the mouth personally for the amount of songs he had inspired you to write after over a year of nothing. your fans would be thrilled to hear you'd be releasing new music after three years of nothing.
"what are you doing there, darling?" tom walks into your office as you play around on the piano and write down the notes you were playing. "just composing a new song. i was inspired during our date last night. i just finished writing the lyrics and now i'm trying to come up with the melody." you answer him, not looking up from the notebook. his eyes widen at your words. "you wrote the lyrics already?" he asks surprised.
you look up from you notebook at this "of course i did, you're my muse. i've completed two albums dedicated to you now." you answer him and continue playing, trying to find the right notes. "you what?" he asks, unaware of his influence on your creativity. you stop playing at this and stand up to face him. "from the moment i have met you, i have written and composed exactly 47 and a half songs. you are my muse, tom blyth. you occupy my mind at all times. i love you" you confess to him with a grin. "my god, i love you." he captures your lips in a searing kiss. he truly was the king of your heart.
#coriolanus snow#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth#tom blyth imagine#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you
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Hi hi friend,
If it is not too much trouble I would like to make a request for your event? I think I would like Floyd with prompt 14- “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”
They/them for Yuu is fine with me, I was thinking romantic? Where maybe it's obvious to everyone but Yuu how requited their feelings are.
I've really liked reading your writing and hope you continue to have fun doing it (♡°▽°♡)
floyd leech x gn!reader
[tags] – fluff, mutual pining
[wc} – 3,659
prompt 14: “I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for them!”
note - hahahahahhahahahahaha i did not mean to write so much but i went a little buckwild and i think floyd deserves to be allowed to be soft sometimes
a floral inconvenience
Lavender roses - Introduced in 1900, lavender roses represent love at first sight. They’re often given to someone to convey that the giver was immediately smitten and fell in love.
You’d decided to attend a karaoke event the Mostro Lounge was hosting to introduce the new spring menu. It was meant to be a nice, relaxing hangout with your friends from Heartslaybul as you listened to your friends attempt to show off their mediocre singing skills.
Ace was in an especially good mood, happy to tease you as you waved happily at Floyd, who’d returned your affections.
“Oi, oi, oiiiiiii, Prefect? When you gonna say something? Kinda tired of dealing with you puking petals every—OW!”
You snorted as Deuce smacked Ace upside the head, muttering about him being an asshole.
“Leave them alone Ace, unless you want to be collared for harassing a member of the student body?” Riddle reprimanded, giving Ace a harsh glare as he turned to you instead.
“You can ignore him, Prefect, you don’t have to say anything to that good-for-nothing merman! I’m sure you could do much better anyways.”
You chuckled, enjoying the soft banter between the group. It was particularly nice seeing Riddle interact more casually with his peers, even if you weren’t able to convince him to sing with you.
“Are you sure you do want to go up with me?” You pouted leaning in close to the red-headed housewarden. “I’ll even let you pick the song—”
“Out of the question.”
You sighed, resting against the plush cushions of the booth while Ace and Deuce bicker about which song would be better for a duet. This was nice.
It was nice, up until Floyd decided to take part in the festivities. Somehow he’d snuck behind you and Riddle, snatching up your friend with a gleeful cackle as he screeched.
“FLOYD! PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT—”
“Nah, it’s fine Goldfishie, I need ya for just a sec!”
Floyd placed Riddle in a seat, front and center at the stage, as he climbed up. The cool blue spotlight suited Floyd’s features as he grinned.
Picking up the mic from its stand, Floyd announced, “Alright! This song is for my favorite little fishie in the whole entire school, so you all better enjoy it!”
You expected him to start singing a silly pop song, one with high energy and beats. Or one that became a meme on Magicam last week, something about flamingos and turning pink.
Instead, the upbeat, suave tunes of a familiar song started playing. A familiar love song.
“Is…is this ABBA?”
“Who?” Cater asked, recording the scene with a stifling giggle as Riddle turned redder and redder in embarrassment (and most likely rage) as Floyd continued to serenade him.
“This is ‘Lay Your Love’ by BABA, a classic from the 80s—”
“No it’s called ABBA back home—wait, WHY IS FLOYD SINGING A LOVE SONG TO RIDDLE!?”
Your screech startled the surrounding tables, drawing attention that you were too jealous to focus on. Floyd made eye contact with you, hearing your yelling. Continuing to sing—quite nicely you’d hate to admit—the eel mer winked and smirked, drawing an ire that you didn’t know you had.
“What the hell? Floyd!” With the vindication of a scorned lover, you stomped to the stage and swiped the microphone from Floyd’s hands.
“Floyd, what are you doing?” you spoke into the mic, glaring daggers at the tall beanpole of an eel turned man, who looked unbothered at your angry presence.
Floyd took the mic back and answered, “I’m trying to win my mate back—DON’T GO WASTING—”
“What mate?” You yanked the mic back while Floyd followed suit, though this time you kept both hands on. It became a tugging match as you both tried speaking into the mic before the other took it back.
“Goldfishie.” You could hear Riddle scream at that.
“Riddle’s not your mate! I’m your mate—” You snapped your mouth shut, the mic feedback and your last words echoing through the lounge, mocking you.
Floyd had a large, smug grin on his face, his sharp teeth gleaming under the bright lights of the stage. You were now very aware of the packed lounge, and of the students spectating.
The mic was slowly pulled back to Floyd, who gleefully asked “Oh~ Say that again?”
“Nuh-uh.”
You shook your head furiously, trying to pull back in order to run off and curl into a hole from embarrassment. Floyd’s grip on the mic and your hands tightened, preventing your escape.
“That’s fiiine,” Floyd pulled out a small device from his pocket, lightly tapping it on the mic. “I have it riiiight ‘ere.”
Suddenly, a recording of your voice looped into the mic:
“I’m your mate—I’m your mate—I’m your mate—”
He recorded it.
“Oh my god…” You looked at Floyd in horror, who was still grinning ear to ear, like a cat that got the mouse.
“HehehehehehahahAHAHA!” Floyd’s giggle turned into a cackle as he launched at you, mic and recorder abandoned on the floor. Between the ear-splitting squeal of the mic hitting the ground and a 6’2” man tackling you, there was little time for you to defend yourself as your lips clashed, teeth clattering against one another from the brute force.
His long arms wrapped themselves tightly around your waist, dipping you down dramatically as he broke your kiss to instead leave wet kisses on your cheeks, nose, forehead, and every other piece of skin not covered by clothes.
Ace and Cater’s cackles could be heard amongst the now growing laughter, whistles, and jeers of the crowd. You think you could even make out someone yelling at your two to get a room.
“—off the stage! Get off the stage, both of you!”
Ah, it was Azul. Who was stomping over the shoo you both off the stage, giving Floyd a particularly harsh whack on the head with his staff.
“Ow, fuck that hurt!” Floyd whined, scooping you up with his left hand and cradling you to his chest. “Cool it Azul, don’t harsh my vibe—”
“I don’t care! Go make out in your room! This is a lounge not a brothel!”
“Fiiiiiine,” Floyd adjusted his grip to instead throw you over his shoulder, amused by how limp you’d gone in his grasp. “Come on Shrimpy! I got something fun in mind~”
His sentence and teasing tone made you flush, images of you and him in bed flashing through your mind.
“W-wait, Floyd, what are we gonna do?”
“You’ll see, ahahahehe!” Floyd’s giggled echoed through the hallway as he quickened his pace. It was only a few minutes before you realized that you two had made it to the dormitory halls.
Floyd kicked open his door, the hinges squeaking from the force. He marched over to his bed, grabbing at your waist to no doubt throw you on it before pausing.
“Oh yeah.” Like a sudden realization hitting him, Floyd grabbed the corner of his bedsheets and shook them, clothing, books, and crumbs no doubtedly flying off.
Once satisfied, Floyd hummed and once again grabbed your waist, this time committing to throwing you on the bed, which bounced under you.
“AaaAaaAAAah—FLOYD!” You yelped, face turning redder as Floyd caged you to the bed. He looked at you with a hungry expression, licking his lips at the sight of you.
“Wait-wait Floyd, gimme a sec—” you stammered, crawling backwards until your back hit the headboard. “—this is all very very sudden, I—wait!”
Floyd crawled after you, trapping you with his long arms, leaning down until his lips were lingering over yours. You shut your eyes in anticipation, waiting for his hands to grab at your clothes and tear them off.
A soft, tender meeting of the lips. Floyd pressed his mouth against yours, swiping his tongue into your mouth, to which you returned with flustered confusion. The kiss was with such gentleness that you had to open your eyes to confirm that it was indeed Floyd kissing you.
Olive and yellow eyes were closed, a blissful smile on his lips as he broke your kiss, instead pressing almost chaste pecks to your cheeks, down, your neck, and over your shirt where your heart was beating away.
Floyd pressed his right ear to your chest, listening to the increasingly rapid pounding against your rib cage. His arms moved from trapping you against the bed to trapping you against his body, wrapping around your back and tightening while his lanky legs tangled between yours.
You weren’t sure what to do with your own hands, once he had settled laying on you. Hesitantly, you reached to lace them through his hair, pushing the strands back to get a better view of his peaceful face. Admittedly, seeing Floyd in such a state, blissful and sweet, was beautiful.
His smile grew slightly as you combed through his hair, nuzzling his nose into your chest. Into your heart really.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Floyd opened his yellow eye, gleaming at you in amusement. “I just wanted to cuddle, did ya have somethin’ else in mind? Haha!”
He moved to prop up his chin, smirking at you as he teased, “Didn’t think ya had sucha dirty mind, if you wanna ‘do it’, all you had to do was ask—”
You shoved his face back into your chest looking away in embarrassment, feeling his giggles vibrate through you.
“Shut up, ugh!” You pouted, grumbling, “You set me up! Ugh! How’d you even know that would work?”
“I heard you.”
“Huh?”
“Talkin’ to Lil Goldfishie,” Floyd moved so that instead of laying on top of you, he was curled into your side with his head nestled at the crook of your neck. “When you got the flower sickness.”
You looked at him with shock. That conversation with Riddle happened nearly three months ago in between classes.
Specifically, it happened a few weeks after winter break, when you were catching up Riddle to your “adventure” in Scarabia, after which small lavender roses started blooming along your freckles, their thorns scratching your skin.
“And then, he launched us waaaaaay into the desert!” You animatedly waved your arms around as you recounted your fiasco over winter break. “We were trapped, but then Kalim used his unique magic to fill a dry riverbed with water and then!”
Riddle raised a brow at you as you began gigging with a soft blush. “Jade and Floyd had to turn into their merforms, so me and Kalim had to hold on to his back, but when I wrapped my arms around his chest, and he held my hand to steady me! ”
Your friend rolled his eyes as you started to silently squealed in your seat, sighing.
“Are you going to finish? I have better things to do than listen to you babble about Floyd of all people. Honestly,” Riddle huffed, “I don’t understand what you see in that riffraff!”
“He’s not a riffraff!” You quipped, frowning as you crossed your arms. “He’s actually really sweet if you give him the time of day, Floyd just likes being able to have fun with others you know!”
“Even then, his mood swings don’t terrify you? He gets rather violent sometimes.” Riddle took a sip of his tea as you shook your head.
“No, I mean if you just go with the flow it’s fine, plus that just makes him more exciting to be around! Plus we’ve been getting closer ever since Azul’s overblot…”
You smiled softly as you looked down at your lap, fondness growing in your heart like blooms on a warm spring day.
“He can actually be quite sweet, once you get to know him…you just have to give him a chance.”
The two of you remained quiet, the only coming from the distant chatter of other students in the more populated areas of the guest lounge.
“I’m safe to assume then that he is the reason you’ve started sprouting the roses?”
Your soft pink blush deepened as you nodded, picking at the small flower that began blooming on your cheek.
“Yeah…”
“When will you confess, then?” You looked at Riddle in shock, who seemed confused at your distress. “What? It’s obvious that you have strong feelings for him, and even I notice how especially clingy he is around you.”
You shook your head, stuttering, “Well, yeah but that’s—”
“I’ve even heard him refer to you by name, he only does that with Jade and Azul you know?”
“You don’t understand Riddle.” You tried to interject, growing more flustered by the second. “I don’t think I could—”
Riddle continued, “As much as I disapprove, it does seem that you two genuinely bring out the best in each other, he does seem softer when you’re around—”
“Oh my—Riddle, stop—”
“—And you’ve gotten more outspoken, I remember how shy you were—”
“I’m begging you—”
“—Besides, according to the Queen of Heart’s rule number 478, any romantic feelings must be confessed approximately 12 days upon their discovery or the individual in question obligated to deny—”
“I said stop, Riddle!” You yelled at the top of your lungs before choking on rather large bouquet of lavender roses. Leaves and petals fluttered all around you as you continued to let out rough coughs, phlegm and saliva making a mess.
Your yell startled the red-head so much that he simply started at you with a red face and thinned lips, too shocked to properly yell back at you for raising your voice indoors.
Instead, he carefully placed his tea cup on the table between you two, folded his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. You on the other hand, peaked around the dividers separating your nook from the rest of the lounge.
Ace and Deuce looked over in concern as you continued to cough out more roses, walking over before you shook your head and gave them a thumbs up before shooing them away and turning back to Riddle.
“...sorry Riddle.” You whispered, looking at him nervously. “I didn’t mean to yell, don’t be mad?”
“It’s…fine.” He replied with a strained voice, taking a final inhale before opening his eyes again and making eye contact. “You shouldn’t have yelled, and I shouldn’t have pushed.”
Riddle sighed, relaxing into the soft lounge chair. Though he would deny when asked, the chair that he helped you pick for the guest room was is favorite spot to sit in, as it surprising comfortable.
“May I ask why you refused? It’s quite obvious to anyone that you care for him immensely, for some forsaken reason, and I would even say it’s quite mutual.”
You avoided eye contact as he resumes sipping from his tea, a lemon tea with 2 sugar cubes for his post meal tea.
“Yeah…that’s what the other first-years say too. Even Jade’s been dropping hints on mer courtship gifts.”
“Then? What’s stopping you?
A pregnant pause was in the air as you open and closed your mouth, attempting to figure out what it was that scared you.
“What if…he gets bored?”
Riddle furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned in, barely able to hear you.
“What if he what?” He sighed, a bit irritated. “Speak up Prefect, I know you can, you just did earlier.”
You groaned out, “What if he gets bored with me? I’m fun and interesting now, yeah!”
Your friend watched, and you began pacing around the room, holding his head in his hand as he watched and listened to you vent.
“I’m just a silly little magicless human that got transported from another world! Big whoop! What happens when that novelty wears off? You've heard him, he only likes to do things that are fun and interesting to him, but I won’t always be fun and interesting, eventually he’ll get used to me and get bored.”
You turned to look at Riddle with a teary-eyed, but firm look. “He’s get bored and leave me. I can’t handle that! So I just won’t be with him. In fact, I'd rather have the thorniest, pesticide ridden roses grow in my mouth before I'd ever admit having any sort of affection for him!”
Your voice began to crack as you stated your final sentence, snapping your mouth shut before you got begun crying. Riddle stood up and walked over to grasp your shoulders, looking at you with an understanding smile.
“The sort of person that would abandon a lover simply because they’re bored never deserved one in the first place.”
Riddle hummed in agreement as you sqeaked out a ‘really?’, giving you a soft pat on your shoulder.
“Of course, I can’t say I don’t understand your hesitance, Floyd is…Floyd, after all. However, he is not my friend, you are. If you choose to forfeit your right to confess, then so be it.”
You smiled as he dragged you back to your seats, giggling as he continued, “I personally would say it’s no lost on your part, he’s not exactly the most prime candidate for your life partner should you be stuck here in Twisted Wonderland, may I suggest one of the many more suitable providers?”
“Pfft-like who? You?” you cackled as Riddle looked at you in mild horror.
“Oh dear, of course not! I admire you as a friend, but I have much stricter standards for a partner.” He snapped his fingers in revelation. “Perhaps Ace or Deuce, you are rather close to them—”
“Ewwwww, pass. They’re like annoying brothers!”
Riddle snorted before covering it up with a cough. “True. Trey?”
“If you’re just going to suggest your dorm members, maybe we should switch the conversation to something else.”
“Well I think my dorm produces only the best and most gentlemanly mages of all of NRC, so excuse me if I’m simply trying to give you the best options!”
You and Riddle shared some laughter, a flash of teal catching the corner of your eye. But you saw nothing, so instead you focused back on Riddle as he began recounting his own winter break activities.
You remained quiet as you processed your thoughts, finding the lilac ceiling to be particularly interesting.
Floyd also stayed quiet, still curled into your side as he breathed in your scent. You’re sure that with all of the flowers you’d started coughing up in the last few minutes, you smelled strongly of the lavender roses.
“You know…I was gettin’ real mad when you wouldn’t confess to me.” Floyd whined, propping his head up with his hand to look at you and your pink face.
“I thought it would be nice to get a cute confession out of my little shrimp,” He pinched your nose and forced you to look at him. “It be real fun! Like those cringy romcoms landfolk like so much!”
You replied, nasally due to your pinched nose, “Wait, is that why Jade was telling me about mer courting methods?”
“Haha! Yeah, I was hopin’ that you’d bring me a pretty seashell or somethin’ cute so Icould make fun of ya for later.”
You let out an indigent huff, smacking Floyd’s hand away as he laughed.
“Really? So what made you change your mind?”
“Hearing ya talk to Goldfishie. It pissed me off that you’d think I’d toss you out like humans at sea with their trash.”
Floyd’s tone changed, looking visibly annoyed as he continued.
“Mers mate for life, and I wouldn’t choose someone I’d get bored with.” He sat up as his mood continued to sour. “It pissed me off, and it hurt, that my Little Shrimpy would think about me like that.”
“Oh, Floyd,” you sat up with him, guilt seeping in your bones as you looked at his angry face. Though, with the small tears forming in his eyes, Floyd looked more frustrated than anything.
“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t think—it didn’t occur to me that you felt the same—”
“Well I do, and it’s not fair to me that you wouldn’t even give me a chance.” The way Floyd said that so matter of factly made you snap your mouth shut again, looking down at your lap instead.
“I’m…sorry, Floyd. I wish I could make it up to you—”
Floyd interrupted, moody demeanor brightening suddenly. “No worries, I got just the solution!”
Crawling over back to you so that your back met the headboard again, Floyd grinned maliciously at your curled form.
“Say it.”
“Huh?”
“Say it. Those three little words.” Floyd held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “The ones that will make all those little flower go right away, the ones you need to say to me.”
You stiffened, leaning away from Floyd as he leaned in. “I don’t know if I can—”
“Say it, Y/N.” The use of your name startled your attention back to his face. He looked unusually serious, peering his heterochromic eyes into your own. If you didn’t know any better, you could’ve mistaken him for his twin.
You whispered, prolonging the inevitable, “What happened to Shrimpy?”
“Shrimpy was Shrimpy, but now your Y/N. And Y/N is Y/N…”
The two of you shared a smile as the distance between you two continued to close. You couldn’t remember what was so pressing earlier, why you were so anxious when the yellow eye of the man in front of you produced nothing but adoration from your heart.
“Please…” From the uncharacteristic soft murmur to the eyes darting down to your lips and back to your eyes, Floyd drew you back in with a hypnotic ease that only the most alluring of mythical creatures could even hope to imitate.
The two of you leaned in as you placed a hand on his chest, his own left hand coming to cradle your own.
You craned your head back to hover your lips under his, uttering the words you swore to never let leave your mouth.
“I-I…love you, Floyd Leech.”
A single lavender rose grew between your palms, as two longing hearts met as one.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst floyd#floyd leech#floyd leech x reader#twst floyd x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#a floral inconvenience#big advocate for softie floyd leech#its what he deserves
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To New Friends | JJH (M)
Corporate AU, Strangers to lovers (?), Younger Jaehyun x older fem reader
Summary: You really hate having to go to formal events. The people, environment, joverall experience is never pleasant. Having to constantly deal with being undermined as a woman and CEO is something no one should have to deal with, but here you are, forced to deal with it anyway. You were sure your night would be horrible, that is until you bumped into Jaehyun, who not only happened to be a new face, but just your type.
Warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (male and fem receiving), snowballing, cum eating, spit, sexism/misogyny, harassment (if you would call it that, proof read but may contain errors my bad y'all)
Word count: 5,3 k
Song recs: perfume, kiss by NCT djj, on the way by Jhene Aiko
A/N: been a bit obsessed with Jaehyun and wanted to write about him. Got a bit carried away a bit too delusional so this is the product of that. This is pure filth I'm so sorry. Feedback is loved and appreciated
Charity events were never really your thing. The pleasantries, snobby sexist businessmen, and their annoying wives. You always hated them. All of them were just ways for rich narcissists to make it seem like they had compassion, but everyone knew it was just as fucked up as anything else. None of these people ever cared for the cause, just how much they were putting into it.
However, the hardest thing about these events is being a successful single woman. You take pride in not being taken although people your age tell you it's about time you settle down and start a family. You don't really like the idea of not working and giving up a career you worked hard for over some snotty nose kid and a man who probably would cheat on you anyway. It's an extremely pessimistic way of looking at marriage, but you couldn't help it, especially seeing how all of your friends' relationships are at the moment.
But sometimes, you did wish you had an interesting life, like right now. Right now you were stuck in a conversation with 2 CEOs and their wives going on and on about their children in private schools across the globe. You twirled your drink in your glass leaning on your elbow as you stood across from them.
"But Y/N..you aren't looking for anyone right now," Rosé asked. She was the wife of a powerful man who owned one of the biggest tech companies in the world. She was also the fakest person you've ever met. You didn't like her and thank God the feeling was mutual.
"No, I'm not. I prefer to focus on working right now," you answered. You sipped your drink without breaking eye contact with her. She knew exactly what she was doing, constantly trying to embarrass you.
"You said that last time honey. Don't you want to..rest for a while? Find someone to take care of you? I mean, you're beautiful, so it shouldn't be too hard," she replied.
"I like working. And I can take care of myself." The table got quiet, sensing the attitude you didn't mean to let slip out. "Anyway, I'm going to go greet other guests. Have a good night."
Just as you turned around, you practically walked into a wall of a man, spilling your drink on your off-white dress.
"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," he said. It was a voice you didn't recognize. You looked up at him, surprised at the handsome sight your eyes were met with. He was blonde and tall. His voice was a bit deep for his appearance.
"It's.. it's okay," you said, trying not to show how irritated you were.
"I'll go get something for you to clean up with." He turned around and walked away quickly. You watched him as he begged the kitchen staff for napkins, ears red from the embarrassment. When he came back, he handed them to you with both hands.
'Polite,' you thought to yourself. "Thank you," you said, flashing him a quick smile. "I'm Y/N by the way. It's nice to meet you."
"I'm Jaehyun," he said, watching you wipe your dress. "Do you come to these things often?"
"These events? Well, I have to, considering my job. But If I'm gonna be honest, I don't really like them," you said, whispering at the end of your statement.
Jaehyun chuckled softly, looking down at you. "Tell me about it. I can't stand these things either."
"At least we have something in common. Well, it was nice to meet you Jaehyun," you said with a small smile. You walked away before letting him respond, almost as if you were running away from the conversation. He was handsome, a little too handsome, and really well-spoken too. And for the first time, someone finally spoke to you like a regular person. But of course, you didn't want to give him the impression that you were trying to flirt when he was just being nice. That's what you tell yourself all the time - that they're just trying to be nice - no matter how many times they ask you for your number or ask you on dates.
No one knew, but another reason you didn't want to get married is that you had no interest in having a trophy husband. Most men who try and get with you are often just looking for someone to sink their manipulative claws into. They thought that because you're beautiful and rich, you must've killed an old husband for it. But whenever you tell them about how you busted your ass since your teenage years to get where you are, they're no longer interested. You aren't well known amongst your run-of-the-mill businessmen, so they take you as a joke until they actually google you. You found it comical how many of them text you saying they were sorry and begging you to go out with them again. But after a while, dating and trying to talk to people really did become exhausting, so you just decided to not do it anymore. And it's been that way for 4 years now.
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Lee! How are you guys?" You shook both of their hands with a smile, trying to hide how much you wanted the interaction to be over.
"We're good. You know we just had another kid," Taeyong announced.
"Oh really? Congratulations!"
"Thank you..and I see you're here alone again unless that," Irene said pointing to the wet stain on your dress," was made by someone I assume."
"Oh, this? I bumped into someone, that's all," you answered. You were sure they knew you were getting more and more annoyed with how Taeyong's eyes shifted between you and his wife.
"A shame. I was almost excited to see someone here with you but alas..the ice queen will never melt." Irene's eyes were always judgmental. You knew she thought she was better than you with all her expensive dresses and jewelry, constantly trying to flaunt her possessions and family in front of you and other people.
'What a bitch,' you thought to yourself. You flash her a small smile, twirling the drink from your glass. "I do hope you guys have a good night, and I hope you figure out your son's scandal. Buying test scores isn't something I'd want to be accused of."
You walked off seeing Irene's ticked-off expression. 'Serves that bitch right.' Taking a sip of your champagne, you spotted Jaehyun talking to a group of men, some of whom have tried to get with you in the past. You shouldn't have stared but you couldn't help it. He was the first man you actually found yourself attracted to out of all the single men in these events. You watched and sipped your drink, staring at him as he laughed and smiled. 'He has dimples?' you caught yourself thinking. "I need a stronger drink." Just as you were about to walk away, the one person you didn't want to see spotted you.
Jaehyun motioned for you to come to him from across the room. Being the nice person you are, you walked up to him and the other men. "Hey," you said, glancing at the group of them awkwardly.
"I know we just met but I wanted to introduce you to some of my friends," he said.
"We've.. already met before," you laugh awkwardly.
"Yeah. She's not very nice," Mingyu commented. His eyes went from your face to your cleavage which was showing a bit in the low-cut dress. "But who needs to be nice when you're dressed like that?"
Mingyu and the other men snickered at your fading smile, nudging each other to look at your expression. Jaehyun took notice, clearing his throat and gaining their attention. "Guys, chill out."
"Or what, she can't take a little joke?" Mingyu scoffed and sipped his drink, staring at you, daring you to say something. Little did he know you weren't scared of anyone, and you certainly wouldn't be embarrassed by anyone either.
"You know what? Yeah, it was a bit funny," you said nodding. "You wanna know what else is funny?"
Mingyu raised his brow, clicking his tongue. "I'm listening."
"I think it's funny how you had to close 5 of your 15 stores already because of how poorly they're doing." You covered your face letting out a fake laugh. All the men looked at you, none of them amused anymore, especially Mingyu. "What's with the serious faces? I thought we were telling jokes."
"You're miserable really," he said, turning away from you, and walking away. "No wonder no one wants you. You're gonna end up dying alone."
"As long as it's not with you." You let out a big sigh as he and his other friends got farther away from you. You've always had a sharp tongue and quick remarks never letting anyone catch you off guard. It was something you had to learn for survival in the corporate world, especially as a woman.
"I'm really sorry about him," Jaehyun said, tongue poking his cheek in annoyance.
You turned to him, surprised to see he was still there. "Oh no, don't apologize. You seem so nice. Why are you friends with people like that anyway?"
"I'm a bit new to stuff like this," he admitted. "I've never been in an environment with such successful people, so I just became friends with anybody."
You chuckled softly at his words, finding his naiveness endearing. "If you want advice from someone who's been here for a while, I'd say don't become friends with just anyone."
"And what if I wanna be your friend?"
You look at him immediately being faced with his dimples. 'Gosh, he's cute.' "Then I'd be grateful," you said.
He raised his glass, fixing his suit jacket with his other hand, proposing a toast. "To making new friends?"
You clung your glass with him with a smile nodding. "To making new friends."
-
It's been 2 hours since the event started and usually at this point you would've gone home, but this was unfortunately the most important event of the year, so you had to stay. If you didn't, you would probably get a very angry email from the board of your company again, and you didn't feel like dealing with any of that.
In situations like this, you usually went outside, but the location of this event was a million-dollar penthouse. Thankfully, there was a balcony with a pool that too many people were afraid they would fall into. You were leaning on the ledge of the glass fence staring out into the view of the city. Even at night, it looked like daytime. No one stopped for anything or anyone, always fast-paced no matter what. If you knew that's what your life would look like years ago, you probably would've just pursued something lowkey. But you worked hard and weren't going to stop now.
"You been out here for a long time?"
You turned around to see Jaehyun walking up to you. He held his suit jacket in his arm, his other hand stuffed in his pocket. He was buff, buttons straining against his chest. You gulped, not being able to control your obvious staring. 'How was he hiding all that under his suit,' you thought to yourself.
"No, just for a couple of minutes. It gets kind of suffocating sometimes," you admitted.
Jaehyun came up next to you, leaning on the fence as he stared into the city lights. He had such a well-defined face, a jawline sharper than diamonds. He's probably the most handsome man you've ever seen. If you had more to drink, you'd probably fall right into his lap by now.
"I feel you. What..do you do by the way," he asked, looking away from the view and at you.
"I own Jasmine Marketing Company," you answered. Your company is one of the most famous marketing companies in the country, and you basically did it all by yourself. Being a woman in her mid-30s with an establishment as big as this one is rare, but you happened to do it. You don't like to announce who you are because people treat you differently, but you don't mind doing it if you have to put someone in their place.
Jaehyun's eyes went wide, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Woah..didn't expect that."
"Why? Did you think I was gonna say something like 'Oh I'm blah blah's wife' or that I own some fashion brand," you joked.
"Oh, no. I didn't mean it like that." He panicked, letting out a big sigh before looking down at his feet. Jaehyun's head shot up when he heard you laugh, voice lighting up the quiet balcony.
"I was just kidding. I know you didn't mean it that way, it's okay," you said, comforting him.
Jaehyun smiled, letting out a laugh in disbelief. "Goodness, you are really something," he commented, a bit more relaxed.
You turned your body to him, arm leaning on the railing for support. Jaehyun might've been nice and well-mannered, but on the surface, he was just a man. It was taking everything in him to not look at your chest. Being the smart woman you are, you notice it. "It's okay. I won't get mad at you," you said quietly.
"W-what are you talking about?" Jaehyun gulped, biting his lip nervously.
"I mean.." you took a step closer to him, so close he could smell your floral scent perfume. "You can look. I won't get mad."
It wasn't like you to be this bold, but after a couple of glasses of champagne and constantly being talked to by people you didn't like, the least you could do was treat yourself to the nervous new guy.
Jaehyun chuckled softly, trying to cover up how flustered he was. "I'm not gonna fall for that." Jaehyun would like to think of himself as a smart man. He knows what he should do and what he shouldn't despite being given permission to do so. He's dealt with many women but none like you. You're confident and quick, but never let your guard down. And that's how you wanted to keep it.
You smirked, turning back to lean on the railing. "I like you Jaehyun," you commented. "Most men would look, and then proceed to think that means they could touch me. It's annoying."
"Well, I'm not like most men."
You smiled, moving your hair from your face. "You know, it's kind of rare to see a fresh face among all these old people," you admitted. "For the first time in a while, I can say I had a little fun tonight."
Maybe, just maybe, there was something here right now, between the 2 of you. It's so cliche. He bumps into you making you spill your drink over your dress, defends you from his annoying friends, and is now talking to you instead of making connections at a charity event. He's handsome with pretty blonde hair and nice dimples, and a body to go with it too. This night was almost too perfect for you. You hadn't felt a spark with anyone for a very long time, not wanting to get with just anyone.
"Why? Because of me," he asked, joking. Jaehyun's smile dropped a bit when you nodded.
"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking," you asked.
"I'm the CEO of Jeong Enterprises," he answered.
"Really," you asked, a bit shocked. "But you're so.."
"Young? Yeah I know. Took over for my father a couple of years back," he answered with a sigh.
You know Mr. Jeong, but you never met his son. He's a nice man with very strong values, always talking about how much he loves his family, and how much he wants them to succeed. Years ago, he got sick and hasn't been able to manage the company head-on. Mr. Jeong said he was going to appoint a new CEO, but you never would've guessed it was his son.
"It's not as easy as people make it look. I mean having to pick up from where he started was hard, but I would say I've done a pretty good job," he admitted, a small smile on his face.
"You have."
Jaehyun looked at you, mouth a bit open trying to form a response but failing. You couldn't help but glance at his lips, then his neck, and trail your eyes down his body. You were sure he noticed, but he could pick up a hint right? But maybe he couldn't, so maybe you should apply some more pressure.
"For someone who doesn't come to these things often, you look great," you complimented.
"Oh, thank you. You look..great too," he said, nodding his head as he looked away from you.
"Great? That's all I get?"
"Well you look beautiful," he said, trying to change his words.
"So you think I'm beautiful," you teased. You gave him a small laugh seeing how flustered he was. "Well, I think you're very handsome."
Jaehyun watched you intently as you took a step towards him, looking at him with doe eyes. He gulped, not really knowing what to do. He had a feeling you were going to try and do something reckless, and by the time he could say no, he would already have done it.
"You're too kind," he said, shaking his hair from his face.
"Goodness, you're cute. I wanted to keep the flirting to a minimum but I can't help it. You're really something," you said. All that was happening at the moment was a bad case of word vomit, but you really couldn't stop yourself. It'd been a long time since you were this attracted to a person, so you had to let it be known.
Jaehyun gave you a small chuckle looking at you as he licked his lips, brushing his hair back. Jaehyun really didn't know if he should give in to your advances knowing you were probably saying all of this because of how many drinks you had, but after all, he is just a man. "Well, people don't usually find me cute after first meeting me, so you're a first."
"What do they usually say?"
"They say I look like I'm great in bed." Jaehyun eyed you, gaze shifting from pleasant to lustful in less than a second. Your lips curled into a smile as you cocked your head to the side.
"Well..are you?"
"There's only one way to find out." To anyone who might've been looking at the both of you from afar, it looked like you were having a normal conversation. But the tension between you and him was so thick, it would probably startle some people you know. Your presence was so dominating to him, but you liked how he wasn't intimidated by you.
"I didn't think you had it in you. You were so shy and careful a couple of minutes ago. What happened to that," you teased.
"Trust me, I have a lot of things in me you don't know about." His voice was low, sending a shiver down your spine, right to your core. Goodness, he was hot. You're surprised he never got into a love scandal with the way he's talking to you.
"Would it be unprofessional of me to say I would like to find out?" By this point, you were definitely too far gone to back off now. It was a bit unlike you - the woman who kept all her ducks in one row - to fuck someone the night she met them, but Jaehyun was too good to be true. It's rare to come across someone who's exactly your type, so you can't let this go to waste.
"I'd like you to find out," he answered.
You stepped closer, chest in his as you leaned into his ear. "Meet me upstairs in 15 minutes," you whispered and walked away. Jaehyun watched you, the click of your heels getting further and further as you walked back inside.
-
Jaehyun attached his hands to your waist, holding you firmly as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I hope you don't mind the lipstick," you muttered.
Your lips smashed onto his as you pressed him against the wall, holding his face in your hands. Jaehyun tugged off his suit jacket, throwing it somewhere on the floor beside you. The light was low in the room, the only source of light coming from the moonlight shining through the gigantic window of the empty room. Your lipstick was probably all over his face by now, so there was no way either one of you was coming out of this room unscathed.
He pulled away from you, planting kisses on your neck. He lowered his hands in response, cupping your ass firmly as you moaned softly. You removed your arms from his neck and loosen his tie wanting to see more of him. He inhaled the scent of your perfume, taking in everything about you all at once.
"I want you in my mouth. How does that sound," you asked, eyes closed in pleasure.
"Sounds like heaven." Jaehyun lifted his head, letting go of you as you sunk onto your knees. His eyes never left your hands as you unbuckled his belt, hands moving fast and clumsily. Jaehyun couldn't help but smile. He's been with a lot of women, but no one older. He always felt like older women weren't his type, but here he was about to get blown off by one.
You unzipped his slacks, tugging his neatly tucked shirt out of the fabric. You tugged his clothes down quickly, unable to hide your excitement when you saw his hardened length.
"Fuck," you mumbled. You grabbed his length, stroking it slowly, and bit your lip. Looking up at him, you swore his eyes rolled back from the simple touch. Jaehyun's eyes never left yours as you started to stroke him faster.
You kissed the tip of his length, tongue softly digging into the slit. Jaehyun let out a low grunt, brows furrowing at the sudden feeling. You removed your hand slowly as you sunk his length into your mouth. You bobbed your head, staring into his pretty brown eyes. Your hand gripping the hem of your dress nails sinking into your palms through the thin fabric.
Jaehyun's hand reached the back of your head, following your rhythm. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked him harder, moaning softly.
"You're so pretty on your knees," he muttered. His eyes were glossed with pleasure, unable to care about the many voices and footsteps that come a little too close to the door. "I bet it'd turn you on even more if someone happens to walk in here."
You whined softly in response. You bobbed your head faster brows furrowing at how full your mouth was. Pleasuring him was turning you on even more, so when you opened your legs and crept your hands under your dress, Jaehyun was in absolute awe. You weren't wearing anything underneath and he could tell how easy it was for you to start fingering yourself. You pumped your fingers in and out of you matching the pace of your bobbing head.
Jaehyun moaned softly, mouth falling slightly as you moved your head faster. His eyes shifted from your face to your hands stuffed between your legs not knowing where to look. You pulled your mouth off of him slowly, droll falling down your chin, the only thing connecting you to him being a string of spit.
"Cum on my chest," you said, voice a bit raspy.
Jaehyun grabbed himself, stroking his length quickly. His soft moans turned into gentle whines. The scene was right out of a movie, him standing over you moaning as you touched yourself on your knees in front of him - so many people would pay to see it. Jaehyun's brows furrowed, throwing his head back feeling closer and closer to his orgasm. "Fuck, oh my god."
And with that, he came all over your chest, the hot sticky liquid staining your skin. Your lips curled into a smile as you bit your lip, still pumping your fingers in and out of your core. You pulled them out of you slowly and came to your knees. You never looked away as you stuck your fingers in his mouth, watching him as he sucked your arousal off your fingers.
"That's so fucking hot," you said, a smirk on your face. "And you even managed to keep my dress clean."
He took your fingers out of his mouth, letting out a soft chuckle. "I don't know if it'll still be clean when I'm finished with you."
"So finish me."
Jaehyun couldn't control himself when he pushed you into the wall and pulled up your tight dress. His lips attached themselves to your neck, leaving wet sloppy kisses all over your skin. "Fuck, you smell so good," he groaned. Jaehyun was in way too deep with you now, his tongue gliding from your neck to your chest.
If you had underwear on, they would probably be soaked by now. You watched him as he licked up his own cum, immediately kissing you right after. You couldn't get enough of the taste of his arousal as you kissed him moaning softly into his mouth.
"Don't wear a condom," you mumbled on his lips.
"Wasn't planning to." Jaehyun lifted your body, pinning you on the wall. You wrapped your arms around him, legs being held by him. You let out a breathy moan feeling yourself sinking into his length.
"Jesus Christ," you moaned quietly. Jaehyun held you with a strong grip on your thighs, so strong you were sure they would leave prints. He rocked his hips into you slowly, every moment bringing out a small groan from him.
"God, you're so big," you whispered, a smile spreading across your face in pleasure.
Jaehyun chuckled softly, kissing your neck. You looked so pretty to him, face lit up by the moonlight moaning his name. Your smile lights up your whole face, too perfect to look away from. He wanted to wipe that smile off your face. He wanted to fuck you so good, you wouldn't even be able to talk.
Your hand tangled in his hair as he fucked you slow against the wall, a small gasp escaping your lips with every thrust. Your lipstick is all over every part it shouldn't be, but that's what made this even better. The thrill of doing something you weren't. As much of a rule follower you were, you've always enjoyed breaking the rules sometimes, even if it was as risky as this. And fortunately for you, this was one rule Jaehyun broke with you.
Jaehyun thrust into you faster, making your body bounce at the same pace. The smile faded, and your jaw dropped at the pleasure that shot through your body. "That's it," he cooed. "It feels good doesn't it?"
"Y-yeah," you moaned out quietly.
"You take me so well baby." The praise made you go crazy, making you nod your head fast. You could barely form a coherent sentence at this point, not when he was fucking you this good. With every movement, your sensitive bud brushed against his skin making your head spin. You leaned in, kissing him deeply, tongues tangling with each other. You clenched around him, making him moan against your lips. "Fuck.."
"I'm so close," you whined against his lips. All that could be heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping and the sound of your soft moans.
"Can you wait for me?"
You shook your head, unable to form a coherent sentence. You looked down at where the both of you were connected, mind unable to focus on anything else. "Jaehyun..fuck I'm so close.."
"You're doing so good," he breathed out. "Just a bit more."
"F-fuck I can't.." You whined loudly feeling your entire body tense up under his touch. You clenched around him as you came, making him moan softly into your neck.
Jaehyun kept fucking into you, feeling himself coming closer and closer to his orgasm. He gripped your hips legs harder as he fucked into you at an unsteady pace. Soon enough, he threw his head back, brows furrowed, biting his lip to keep the loud groan from reaching the ears of the people outside the door as he came inside you. Feeling weak, Jaehyun put you back onto your feet carefully, the sound of breathing and your heels clicking on the floor filling the room. But before you could even register what just happened, Jaehyun disappeared right in front of you, dropping to his knees.
"W-what are you doing," you whispered softly.
"I'm not done." Jaehyun's voice was tired and raspy, sweat dripping down his forehead. He grabbed your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. Jaehyun wasted no time attaching his mouth to your core looking up at you with lust filled eyes. He lapped licked and sucked your clit hard, lapping up the mixture of both of your arousal.
You could barely stand how badly he was abusing your sensitive bud. You leaned against the wall trying to keep your balance as Jaehyun gripped your hips. "Oh my god," you whimpered, breathy moans sounding like music to his ears. Everything was overstimulating you, the feeling of his tongue, the eye contact - the sounds he was making - it was driving you crazy.
"Shit, I'm gonna cum." Your breathing was so loud, you were basically heaving trying to keep yourself from moaning too loud.
"Cum, and keep those pretty eyes on me." Jaehyun moaned as he licked you up, his half opened eyes never leaving you. Your jaw dropped, a gasp that was a little too loud leaving your mouth reaching the ears of someone outside as soon as you came.
"What was that," you heard someone ask.
You clasped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to muffle whatever noises were coming out as he lapped up your arousal. Jaehyun removed your leg from his shoulder, holding you so your weak body wouldn’t fall. You gulped as he removed your hand from your mouth, not knowing what he was about to do next.
"Open up." Jaehyun grabbed your jaw and brushed his finger against your lip. A smirk was plastered on his face as he let a ball of cum and saliva fall from his tongue and onto yours, his smirk becoming wider when you let out a soft whine. "Swallow."
Eyes never leaving your, he watched you so what he said, kissing you right after. He held your face in his hands while kissing you passionately.
"That was..fucking amazing," you mumbled on his lips.
"You were amazing." He moved his hands from your face, moving them directly to your ass. "That was the most fun I've had in ages."
"That was the most fun I've had in my life," you replied, chuckling softly. "I thought you were bluffing when you said you were good."
"Yeah, I might've gotten a bit carried away." Jaehyun's eyes scanned over your body taking in the mess he made of you at the very formal event. "I'm sorry for that," he said, glancing at your cleavage.
"I'm sorry about the lipstick everywhere," you said laughing softly at the red smeared all over his face. "I don't know how we're gonna make it out of here."
"I could always give you my jacket and we can make a run for it," he joked.
You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck with a smile. "I think I'd like to stay here for a little bit longer. I hate these events."
Jaehyun kissed you softly, nipping at your lip. "Round 2? I don't think you can keep up with me."
"I'm better at showing you than telling you."
"So show me."
#nct#nct 127#nct u#nct fanfic#nct smut#nct x reader#nct oneshot#nct imagines#nct jaehyun#jaehyun#jaehyun fanfic#jaehyun scenarios#nct scenarios#jaehyun smut#jaehyun x reader
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ceos!rapline x reader, fem!reader, poly!rapline, bi!rapline
genre: smut (pwp), fluff
word count: 6.1k
summary: having three ceo boyfriends comes with its perks- namely the financial freedom to pursue your artistic talents and always getting the jewelry you ask for- but like everything, your luxuries come at a price.
a price that just so happens to be arriving in their office to satisfy them at every call.
warnings: this is SMUT! They're all fucking, okay? Everyone is also very in love, rapline are little bi babies. Swearing and tension (related to business things that have the boys pent up), they are all sickeningly in love. Specific smut warnings include: dom!rapline x sub!reader, dirty talk, intentional voyeurism, praise and degradation, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, spitting, hair pulling, grinding (in several varieties), technically public sex but behind closed doors, unprotected sex (hey, don’t do this irl), anal play, double penetration, multiple orgasms, cum eating, overstimulation, aftercare ofc!
an: hi, I’m back to write about the nasty things I dream about sometimes. This one is pretty intense so please read the warnings above carefully, and as always if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with the content pleaseeee do not read it. I do not proofread so if there are typos I apologize! (ps the title is inspired by one of my favorite songs about sex, so do yourself a favor and listen to Natural by The Driver Era if you haven’t!)
“I don’t fucking think I approved that!” Namjoon growls into his phone. You can feel the anger coming off of him in waves as he grips the device in his veiny hand. You admire him for a second; the set line of his jaw, the sexy furrow of his brow. Whoever is on the other side of the conversation speaks rapidly again, likely apologizing, and yours ears strain to catch any context.
You only get to focus for a few seconds before Namjoon’s stare slides to you. His eyebrow raises and you know immediately what he wants. The carpet is beginning to pinch into your knees anyway so you’re glad for the imminent distraction.
You were in the middle of a new painting when he called you to his office; hands flecked with dry paint and still in yesterdays’ pajamas but you dropped everything and rushed over. It had been like that as long as you could remember- you more than happy to be at your boyfriends’ beck and call as you got to reap the benefits of their job status. It didn't always end up like this when you visited but there’s no denying the spark of pleasure that rides up your spine as Namjoon silently commands you from above.
He’s already hard beneath his work pants; the expensive silky material stretching around his impressive length. You clench your naked thighs together and pull on his waistband to undo the button and slide down the metal fly. He offers you nothing but a tick of his jaw as you work and the idea drives you crazy, hips rocking uselessly against the air.
He sighs, and you can’t tell if it's because of the phone call or because you’ve wrapped your delicate hand around his length, tugging at him gently until you have a firm grasp on the base.
You’ve done this enough to know that getting right to work will get you what you need faster, and there’s no denying how much you love sucking his cock.
The head is leaking salty precum and you fight the urge to moan as you lick at it and sample his familiar taste. Wetness pools between your legs and your eyes roll back as you gather more of him in your throat. The stretch is pleasant and grounding; familiar enough that you feel an odd sense of peace wash over you as you swallow around his thickness.
He drops a hand to your hair to push it away from your eyes, gently tucking the pieces behind your ears. You smile around your mouthful of his cock. Saliva dribbles from your lips into your lap and you flush as if the reality of your situation had just hit. Namjoon ruts his hips, clearly unhappy with your pausing, and you double down. It doesn’t take long for the sounds to become overwhelming, the lewd squelching of your tongue working over his cock that you hope can't be heard over the phone.
“Is that my job? Or is that not exactly what I fucking hired you to do? I pay you way too much for you to be so god damn stupid.” The venom in Namjoon’s voice makes your head spin. Although the words aren't directed at you, the serious tone of his voice is so familiar that your pussy hums and your hips rock forward desperately; searching for the friction your plush thighs can't provide.
You whine, hoping to draw his attention enough that he'll end the call, but he just shakes his head and taps his foot. Tears of frustration brim hot behind your eyes and his soften just a bit, pointedly glancing down between your thighs where his foot continues to tap. You pull off of his cock, wiping your mouth as you recollect yourself and try to put together the pieces he’s offering to you. He must read your confusion because he tangles his hand in your hair anew, angling your head down to look below yourself.
His foot; clad in an expensive, shiny leather boot stares back at you. He taps it again, and your head swims. Is he suggesting what you think he is? Hot anticipation strikes your veins as he speaks again.
“You’re right. That’s what I want you to do.” You know he's still on the call; as he still only uses one hand to guide you back to his cock, but the double edged meaning of the sentences affirms you.
Your head spins and speeds up all at the same time as you lower yourself enough that you can keep some of his cock in your mouth at the same time your pussy grazes the material of his shoe.
It's cold and firm, and your mind goes blank as you rut against it. He flexes his foot to adjust the pressure against your clit and you go wild, heart pounding in your chest as you speed up. Out of all the debauched things you’d done in your life of dating your boyfriends, grinding against shoes worth more than your car payment is near the top of the list. Your stomach tightens with every drag and you’ve all but abandoned sucking his cock; just holding it in the warmth of your mouth as you let out pathetic little moans.
Your orgasm approaches rapidly, punctuated when you look down to see how your juices leave a shiny, sticky trail over his boot. Your heart stammers and you can feel your oncoming release only seconds away when a loud, reverberating bang ruptures your focus. Namjoon’s cock falls completely out of your mouth as you squeak, but your body is so close to the edge of pleasure that you hips keep moving shamelessly. You have no idea who or what just came into his office; but you can't find it in yourself to give a shit.
“Oh, fuck! I’m coming,” you grip Namjoon’s pant leg and mouth at the fabric as you bear your weight completely on his shoe and rock yourself to completion.
White flashes behind your eyes and you shiver, clinging to his strong thigh as tears of relief leak from your eyes.
“Well this is a pleasant surprise,” Yoongi’s husky voice comes with the gentle touch of his fingers brushing your sweaty hair off of your neck.
“Yoongi!” You keen, leaning into the touch, still a bit too frazzled to move. Namjoon takes the moment to tease his boot back against your clit and you cry out, hips twitching away from him with a whine.
“Sensitive, honey?” Hoseok calls, and although you knew he was likely there, the confirmation makes you flush. You turn slowly, unearthing your face from Namjoon’s thigh.
You can't help but feel worshipped under their gaze. Hoseok is staring openly at your ass, admiring the curve created by your squatted position and you’re sure the sheen of your arousal is shining on the insides of your thighs for him. Yoongi is closer, kneeling just a few inches away from you on the carpet and you smile, practically falling into his warm embrace. He catches you easily and hums.
“We didn’t know you were here, love. But you made quite the entrance.” His teasing only reignites the fire inside of you; already ready for whatever other plans the trio might have for you. Yoongi has his hand on your ass in a split second, groping the flesh and spreading you open to the groan of approval from Namjoon.
The sound of his voice reminds you of his abandoned cock and you glance back at him from Yoongi’s embrace. His cock is slick with your spit and flushed angry red at the tip.
“Sorry, Joonie.” You pout at his state and his cock twitches in response; prompting him to grab it and give himself a sharp tug. Your mouth waters at the sight and you long to have him in your mouth again, but Yoongi tugs you back to him when you start to move.
“He can wait.” The dominating current in Yoongi’s voice makes you immediately pliant, lurching forward as his fingers ghost along your sodden pussy. You keen, pressing your breasts into him as your back arches. His chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, and it’s near impossible to miss the feeling of him hardening beneath you.
You catch sight of Hoseok, who had made quick work of shedding his suit jacket and button down top. His tanned skin glows luminous; the light dusting of hair on his lower stomach tempting you to lick your lips. His belt hangs half undone from the loops; the silver clasp reflecting the light in Namjoon’s office. You reach for him with cute grabby hands and he fights an endeared smile as he strides over to you. Yoongi presses a kiss into the space where your neck and shoulder meet before he surprisingly relinquishes you.
Hoseok pulls your body upward as if you weigh nothing. He steadies you with a curl of his fingers around your bare hip and you shiver at the delicate touch. Long ago, he made a habit of tracing the delicate silvery threads of your stretch marks- mapping the part of you which used to make you shy away from his affection. Now you lean into the touch readily and he smiles to coax the dimples out from his cheeks.
“Pretty baby,” his eyes search your own before he kisses the tip of your nose, the cleft of your upper lip, the corner of your mouth...everywhere except your lips. Immediately you pout at him, trying to entice another smooch out of him with the pitiful look. A smirk that makes your stomach roll follows, punctuated by the mischief in his warm brown eyes.
“You want a kiss?” His voice strikes low and hot through your abdomen. You can feel the ghost of his lips just centimeters from your own and you shiver, nipples standing to attention.
It’s such an odd feeling to anticipate a kiss from someone you’ve been kissing for so long. You’re no stranger to Hoseok’s tricks; the way he and your other boyfriends relish in watching you squirm as they make you wait for the simple pleasure of your lips meeting their own, but you take solace in knowing that at the end of the day they’re just as affected as you.
Hoseok is craving this kiss just as much as you are as your heart rate spikes; dreaming of the cosmic feeling that will be born from this quite simple delay. You feel him exhale against your face and only then do you realize your eyes had fluttered shut. You snap them open, eager to watch the moment when he leans in. He smiles, showing off his row of perfect teeth; and then promptly sinks to the ground in front of you.
An affronted gasp falls from your lips before you can stop it. Namjoon laughs heartily behind you, and it only takes a second before he’s blessing your line of sight-finally rid of all the pesky layers of clothes that were hiding him.
Namjoon is nothing if not disciplined, and his recent forays to the gym have certainly been paying off. His biceps look absolutely delectable, and its impossible to miss the tantalizing trail of muscle that has begun to form at his pelvis, encouraging you to look further to the cock you were forced to abandon earlier. You still itch for him-always itch for him, for all of them- but he seems unbothered by the weight of his stiffened cock for the moment.
Hoseok’s hair tickles at your upper thigh and you stutter a moan. Seated so perfect and handsome below you, Hoseok has wasted no time in pulling his dress pants down just enough that his cock greets you. It’s hard and weeping, creating a dark stain on the light gray pants he had laid out on the dresser last night.
“Hobi,” you whine at the sight of him eyeing you from his place on the floor. He raises a playful eyebrow and nods, as to encourage your words.
“What’s up?” He asks, tracing his fingers along the insides of your slick thighs, never close enough to where you actually need him. “I don’t know what you need if you don’t tell me.”
Your clit throbs under his words- despite their gentle nature you know he’s not kidding. He really would sit here all night, waiting for you to ask for him to dive into your pussy. Fortunately, he's not the only voice in the room.
“Fuck,” Yoongi growls, stalking over to the pair of you. His cologne engulfs you as he circles your body like a well trained predator. Now naked, the contrast of his bright red hair strikes even more bold against his milky skin.
“Little one is clearly too dumb to talk to us today...” his eyes are cool and calculating of your trembling figure. His elegant hands flex as he rounds you again, taking claim at the top of Hoseok’s head. You can feel the man’s breath stutter against your thigh at the touch and it’s oddly comforting to know that all of you are in the same boat of overwhelming attraction to one another.
Yoongi tuts, throwing a glance over his shoulder to Namjoon, who seems happy to just be watching for the moment, occasionally stroking himself to the show. Your breasts heave with every breath of anticipation.
“What’s her little pussy telling you, Hobi?” Yoongi’s dangerous gaze slides down between your legs as Hoseok pulls your thighs apart. Happily you spread them just enough that he can get an eyeful of your sodden core.
Despite having just come a few moments ago you’re more than ready for more- slick with your own arousal and feeling wired to come at the slightest touch.
“Telling me she’s lonely...” his voice takes on a whining edge and you agree with a moan of your own, nodding rapidly.
“And what should we do about that?” Yoongi hums. It takes you embarrassingly long to realize he's asking you. There are options here, you know, but the glint in Yoongi’s eye tells you there’s an answer he would be more partial to at the moment.
“Your tongue,” the word stutters out of you. Yoongi smirks, runs his fingers over his top lip as if in thought.
“Mine?”
Your brain short circuits and you’re immediately shaking your head yes, and then no. His brows furrow as a genuine concern breaks his indifferent mask. You swallow around the lump in your throat.
“Wan’ you and Hobi. Please?” Hoseok moans, and you’re sure that he’s stroking himself as you play this little game with Yoongi.
Yoongi’s grin returns tenfold. “My needy little slut, huh? Just one can never be enough for that pussy. Always need more, and more.” You expect him to nudge Hoseok aside for room, but instead he circles you once more before sinking to his knees behind you.
His hot breath ghosts against your ass and your mind instantly runs wild with realization. Your eyes must grow wide because Namjoon coos at you just before the tongues comes to life.
Hoseok, who had clearly been waiting long enough, takes no preamble and dives right into your pussy, forcing your legs further apart. His tongue immediately presses against your clit, pulsing the nerves with little teasing flicks. Yoongi quickly follows suit, latching his mouth around your entrance and sucking. The room spins with pleasure and your thighs are already shaking before a minute has passed. Your hips have nowhere to go to escape the sensations, and Hoseok and Yoongi’s insistence on pushing further into you means that you can feel their tongues meeting in the middle; overlapping one another with the same fervor as a heated kiss.
You can't help but look down your body, trying to catch any glimpse of the men working you over with their tongues. Hoseok’s full head of hair blocks your sight slightly, but through the gaps of his limbs you see a slender, pale hand wrapped around his cock. It’s only now you realize Yoongi only has one hand anchored to your hip, the other presently preoccupied around Hoseok’s cock. You watch him run his thumb over the slit, collecting Hoseok’s sticky pearlescent precum before giving him several languid strokes in the same rhythm his tongue prods you open.
The sight is so erotic that tears spring forward as your hands flail, unsure of whose head to grasp. Your orgasm is just inches away, and you warn them both as such with a shake in your voice. Hoseok redoubles his efforts, the hinge of his jaw working sinfully to tease your clit with the same rapid circles he employs when he fingers you.
The world blanks as you come, feeling the rush of wetness that gushes out of you being drunk up by Yoongi’s greedy mouth. Your stomach caves as you ride the feeling, tugging on Hoseok’s hair in a futile effort to get him off of your clit.
He answers with a nip of his teeth and a hearty moan, the combination rocketing you off of the edge of oblivion again. There’s no way to stop the tears as they spill hot and heavy down your cheeks and collect at your chin. Your entire body trembles and if it weren’t for the strong grip of Namjoon’s hands, you surely would have face planted into the plush carpet. He welcomes the weight of your body falling into his, immediately wrapping you in his warmth as your body recovers from the sensations.
He manages to get you out from between your lovers and cradles you into his desk chair. From here, you have a perfect view of Yoongi’s insistent hand on Hoseok’s cock and the sloppy kiss they devolved into once you left.
“You’re so fucking sexy, did you know that?” He brushes the sweat-damp hair from your shoulder and nibbles at the flesh in earnest. His cock twitches below you and your pussy trembles. He moans heartily and grabs handfuls of your breasts, flicking his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. He hums at the way your breathing increases.
“Bet that tastes like you.” Even though you can't see his face, you know he’s referring to the sloppy mess of spit and come smearing between them. The idea makes you shiver with a new wave of arousal; and if you weren’t so used to going so many rounds with them you would be seriously worried about the state of your body.
Hoseok tips his head back and lets out a rattling groan, the clear warning of his incoming release. You and Namjoon let out twin sighs at the sound, and Yoongi’s face curves into a devilish smile as he leans down to capture the tip of Hoseok’s cock in his mouth. It’s only seconds before Hoseok lets go, face flushing bright red as he comes. The instinctive stutter of his hips leaves several glossy streaks of cum across Yoongi’s mouth and chin.
You squirm in Namjoon’s lap and he takes another heavy, indulgent grope of your tits; conveniently pressing you right against his hardened cock. The sound of Yoongi praising Hoseok becomes white noise as Namjoon angles his hips against you, brushing the head of his cock against your clit. Despite having come so many times already, your pussy has yet to be stretched to the limits you desire.
“I-in, Joon...” you lift your hips enough that his cock catches on your entrance and he plunges forward immediately. He exhales in a burst against the back of your neck.
“Sorry baby. Pretty little pussy just wanted to suck me in before I could ask.” He licks a line up the side of your neck, playing with the tender skin under your ear. “Are you ready? Feelin’ okay?” You have to commend him for stopping to ask: carrying concern for your well being and consent even though you can feel his cock throbbing inside you.
“Yes!” You can't find it in you to say much more, but the animalistic grunt Namjoon makes as he pulls you down onto him makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine.
The walls of your pussy stretch and accommodate him as he bucks his hips. His fingernails dig into the flesh of your breasts as your head lulls back onto his toned shoulders; relishing in the way your sweaty skin sticks together in the heat of your moment. You finally feel so full, finally able to indulge in the truly brain numb feeling of allowing one of your favorite men on the planet batter your pussy until he’s satisfied.
“This greedy pussy can’t get enough attention, huh? Never enough mouths and cocks to keep you satisfied?” The force of his thrusts punch the air out of you but you nod in affirmation, mouth hanging open dumbly. “Fucking hell, baby. I’m gonna cum.”
You wish you could see the pinch in his eyebrows, the clench of his jaw; but for now you’ll relish in the fact you get to feel his cock twitch rapidly inside of you until he’s filling you. His hot cum rushes into you with a force that is testament to how long he waited for his release. He keeps you pressed over him until he’s fully drained, moaning your name at the sensitivity of his softening cock lodged inside your throbbing pussy.
Your head spins and you have to close your eyes in an attempt to anchor yourself back to the earth. Namjoon shifts his hips and you can feel his hot release start to leak out of you.
“Sorry,” he kisses your ear gently as he slips out completely. You instinctively clasp your thighs together to keep his release inside you as Yoongi materializes before you. His bright red hair is mussed and his cheeks are a pleasant pink, as if he’d been in the sun for a few hours.
If it wasn’t for the streaks of drying cum on his face, he would look angelic.
Actually, you still think he does anyway.
“As much as I love staring at you staring at me...” his hands pull at your waist, tugging you off the warmth of Namjoon’s lap. You go easily, feeling pleasant calm flowing through your veins as you stand before him on wobbly legs. He knots his fingers through your already tangled hair, tugging the strands until your neck is bared to him. It burns at the roots but you love it, darting your tongue out to lick at your lips as he gives another experimental tug. Your pussy throbs along with your scalp, and Yoongi moves close enough to you that you can feel his rigid length brush against your stomach.
The hardness of him against you sends your hips forward, grinding his cock between your bodies and relishing in the special kind of torture you’ve made for yourself- literal inches from allowing the drag of his cock against where you need him most.
Yoongi voices his protest with a groan that reverberates through your chest, sending shockwaves of pleasure between your slick thighs.
Your breath stutters as his plush lips work at your neck, teeth nipping into the sensitive skin with the intent of marking you black and blue. Sagging under his attention, you return the favor by winding your own fingers into his locks and tugging hard.
A new set of hands joins you, cresting over the curves of your ass. The citrusy scent of aftershave gives the hands away as belonging to Hoseok; who takes no qualms with spreading you open for his greedy eyes. You shutter as he reveals your ass and pussy to him and you shake your hips back at him playfully. He moans as your flesh jiggles under his touch and the sudden burn of a slap fills the room. Your ass cheek stings from the contact but you feel yourself get wetter, pushing back against his strong hand.
Hoseok answers with two more slaps in quick succession and the burn of the impact makes you keen.
“Look so good with your ass all red for me.” He trails his fingertips over the spot where he had just spanked you. Anticipation breezes through your veins as the simple touch leaves only to be quickly replaced by a renewed slap across the sensitive skin that connects your thigh and ass cheek.
Yoongi sucks up your moan with a swift kiss, shoving his tongue into your throat so you have no choice but to let him devour your sounds. You clutch at his shoulders pathetically as Hoseok skims a finger over your asshole.
Even though your eyes are already shut, they roll back into your head at the gentle push of his fingertip. You’re no stranger to the intrusion, but it makes your knees weak every time.
Yoongi relinquishes your mouth to peek around your body, although you have a suspicion he already knew what was happening. His lips are raw, bitten red from your passionate kiss as he cups your face between his hands.
“Gonna let Hoseok in your little ass? Have his cock fill you up?” You nod emphatically as the wet splatter of Hoseok’s spit slides over you, aiding his finger in the deeper glide you desire. He acts fast to add a second finger and sink down to his first knuckle, stretching them apart to open you further. Your chest heaves against Yoongi’s, and he kicks a sinful trail up the curve of your ear.
“You’re gonna look so pretty with his big cock in your ass, honey. Can’t wait to see you all stretched out for us…” you feel as if he’s lit you on fire.
Hoseok has managed to fit three fingers, and the delectable drag of him inside of you is making your head foggy. Pressure mounts in your lower stomach but feels annoyingly far away from satisfaction.
“Yoongi, H-hobi,” the men both snap to your attention; cooing at the watery tone of your voice. Hoseok’s fingers persist in stretching you as you try to work your way through your thoughts.
“I need you in my pussy, too,” hot tears come along with the plead you make to Yoongi, desperate for him to understand the aching need filling you. He chuckles and nods, reaching down between your bodies to stroke himself.
“No surprise that just one cock wouldn’t be enough for your little holes.” Pleasure burns through you as you nod your agreement; anything to get him into action as you feel Hoseok spit on you again.
“You were just on this cock, too. Real fucking slut needing more already.” Namjoon’s rumbling voice chimes in- apparently recovered from his most recent orgasm.
You catch sight of him rising from his desk chair like he’s been reborn: cock glossy with your arousal and a new stream of precum decorating the tip.
The three of them seem to move in an eerie tandem- something that would make you think they’d talked about this beforehand if you didn’t know any better. Hoseok removes his fingers, ignoring your protest as he pulls your body to the floor with him. His skin burns against your own as he positions your ass over his cock; both tortured by the close contact. Your legs are lifted under the knees and spread, baring your pussy to the room and your other boyfriends.
“Fucking can’t wait to wreck you, baby.” He slides you carefully until his cock is pressed tightly against your asshole, the feeling of him twitching there making you even more impatient.
Yoongi stands above you both for a second before kneeling- and you’re grateful for the plush, expensive carpet as you watch his pale knees land on it. His hand stays steady on his cock, stroking himself in little half motions that give away just how hard he’s trying to remain calm. His eyes wander over your shoulder to where Hoseok sits, and you can see them soften as he admires his boyfriend. A sickeningly sweet feeling of affirmed love sweeps through you, and you’re shocked again by just how lucky you’ve managed to become.
Yoongi’s face quickly morphs back into desire as his eyes catch on the way Hoseok’s cock is lodged against you, red and twitching to be inside. You can feel wetness leaking from your pussy downward, making a sticky mess between the two of you that sets you alight.
Not one to be forgotten, Namjoon hovers above you with his watchfully sexy eye, roaming every exposed inch of your skin. His jaw ticks as you rut against Hoseok.
“Go on, Hobi. Wanna see you fill our girl up.” The goading works, and Hoseok is quick to manipulate your body into the perfect position for slipping his cock into you.
Your eyes water at the push but you do your best to relax, focusing on the twin gazes of Yoongi and Namjoon as Hoseok’s cock pushes past your muscles. The stretch is slow and satisfying; and you take a sick pleasure in feeling the way Hoseok’s own body trembles under your own as he bottoms out.
Your mouth lulls open as he starts to bounce you on his cock. Your hands fall useless at your sides but Yoongi is quick to capture them, kissing each palm once before clasping them wholly. The lewd sound of your hips against Hoseok’s fills your head, and a string of incoherent moans is all you can offer them.
Namjoon’s hands find your face as he crouches to your side, giving Yoongi the room to shuffle closer to your waiting pussy.
Your entire body throbs as Yoongi lines up with your entrance and taps at your clit with the heavy head of his cock.
“Please,” you breathe out and cry at the same time: hot tears collecting in Namjoon’s big palms as they roll down your cheeks. The pressure of Yoongi entering you alongside Hoseok’s thrusts creates spots behind your eyes, and you feel your body floating into the overdrive you’ve come to adore. Namjoon grunts with you as you fall into pleasure, allowing your body to be jostled between Hoseok and Yoongi’s strong bodies.
Namjoon kisses your nose in a deceptively sweet manner even though you know his hand is wrapped around his cock; mumbling little praises against your face as you barrel toward blinding pleasure.
The boys work in a perfect rhythm so that you never feel empty. Their cocks occasionally meet, running against one another through the layer of your walls.
“Fucking feel so good when you’re so full.” Beads of sweat roll down Yoongi’s neck, highlighting his godly features.
Your stomach flips with arousal, pussy clenching around the lengths inside of you. Hoseok sinks his teeth into the vulnerable skin on your shoulder before he locks you in an embrace with the corded strength of his arms and holds you steady as you squirm. The string of moans that rips from him at your wiggling hints you toward his oncoming release just seconds before his hips still, filling you to the brim.
“Hobi, fu-fuck!” Your whine is met with a choked sound from Yoongi, who can feel the warmth of Hoseok’s cum inside of you. He keens and leans forward, baring down his hips and meanly stroking his thumb against your swollen clit. His movements rock you back against Hoseok’s softening cock and he moans at the onslaught of sensation.
It’s becoming harder to stay aware of all the sensations, your body happy to just float between feelings of pleasure without much thought. Your moans leave you with no coherence as Yoongi’s hips kick up yet another notch; rapidly plowing into your pussy.
“Let me fill up this pussy for you. Make sure you’re nice and stuffed and used up and d-dripping for us-” his voice crescendos into a loud moan, strumming with insistence across your clit.
Your vision blurs as the pleasure crescendos into a peak, ripping through your nerves. A loud whine rips from your raw throat as Yoongi empties inside of you, meeting the gush of your come with his own. Between his load and Hoseok’s you feel full and heavy, pussy sore but satisfied with the treatment of the night.
“Such a good girl,” Yoongi’s voice floats back to you as he rubs at your thighs softly as he pulls his softening cock out of you. The loss of him inside you makes you whine but you don’t have enough energy left to cross your legs and stop it. Namjoon replaces Yoongi’s hands, shoving your knees apart.
Your bared pussy throbs, leaking Yoongi’s cum onto Hoseok’s skin beneath you. Yoongi groans deep with satisfaction as he watches his release drip out of you, sliding down to meet the puddle of Hoseok’s cum underneath you.
“Fuck, I would fill you right back up again if I had the energy.” Yoongi’s chest heaves and Namjoon moans in agreement.
“Joonie-” You gasp as you catch sight of his scrunched brow, the insistent twitch of his cock as his nears his edge again.
“What do you want, baby?” His eyes narrow in on you, likely trying to access the sensitivity you’re feeling. You glow under his attention and squirm against Hoseok’s body.
“Joon, please come on me...” Your bat your lashes and he grunts, tugging at the tip of his cock several times in quick succession before he finally comes. He coats your pussy in a new layer of cum, adding to the glistening white.
Hoseok loosens his embrace and you crumble, all but falling off of his body onto the carpet below. The fabric is surprisingly cool against your heated skin, so you make no real effort to move as you feel the boys move and the gentle sounds of their hushed voices. Hoseok’s hand traces down your spine, forcing you to look his way. His dimple-ridden smile greets you first and you giggle, pouting your lips until he meets you in a kiss.
It’s grounding- just left of magical as he nips at your bottom lip with a sense of genuine love that melts your heart from the inside out.
“Love you, Hobi.” The sentiment slips from between your locked lips and he smiles.
“Hey, I love him too!” Namjoon crowds into your vision as well, placing a hand on Hoseok’s naked waist. They share a dimpled smile and then their own sweet kiss.
Your eyes track Yoongi stalking back to the three of you, boxers back on, with a damp washcloth in his hand. As he gets closer you can see his chest has lost its flush and you smile.
He says nothing as he nudges Hoseok and Namjoon aside to run the washcloth over your messy pussy. Even though the fancy washcloth is made of the softest possible material, the drag of the fibers is still sensitive on your pussy.
“Sorry, baby.” Yoongi soothes you as he takes genuine care to clean you up, making sure that everything is gone. Namjoon pecks Yoongi’s temple as he works, and you can only imagine how messy the washcloth is as Yoongi wipes across your ass.
“Your carpet-” you reach for Namjoon’s arm and trace the line of his bicep. “Sorry about your carpet, Joonie.” He coos and holds your chin between two fingers as he kisses you softly.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll just call a cleaner...” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “Definitely not the worst mess to have on this carpet.” Your face flushes in embarrassment despite how messy the whole night was.
Hoseok lets out a hearty laugh and claps Namjoon on the shoulder. “He just means that nothing will be worse than the time he spilled his leftover chicken parm on the floor...there was sauce alllll the way over-”
“Oh, shut up!” Namjoon flushes but his hearty laugh gives away his amusement as you finally find it in yourself to sit up, your muscles stretching out. Two pairs of hands come to steady your form and you smile at the protective feeling that washes over you. Even after a long, strenuous night trapped between them, they make you feel nothing short of worshipped after you’re all spent.
“We gotta stop fucking on the floor,” you groan at the tightness in your neck and Yoongi nods; offering you two hands to get you to your knees. You know that he's immediately going to lead you to the bathroom, and you can’t complain about the amount of love you feel spiraling in your chest.
“You’re right. My poor knees can’t take anymore of this.” Yoongi agrees. You scoff in fake indignation as you travel to the bathroom with him, his arms looped around your naked stomach as he walks behind you as if he’s worried you would spontaneously fall backwards.
“Oh, Yoongi. You’ll never stop getting on your knees, even if Namjoon gets a couch in his office.” He pinches your thigh but stays quiet, agreeing with a sly grin that stays between the two of you.
#poly!bts#bts x reader#bts#bangtan#bangtan boys#bts smut#bts fluff#bts x yn#hoseok smut#yoongi smut#namjoon smut#rm x reader#trashlibrary#rm#rm smut#namjoon#namjoon x reader#namjoon fluff#rm fluff#suga#suga smut#suga fluff#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#yoongi x yn#suga x you#suga x yn#hoseok#hoseok fluff
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I Will Always Love You | B.B.
Summary: Bradley has no one to release him at his tapping out ceremony.
Warnings: female reader; use of (Y/N); reader has a big family; mentions of Bradley having no family left after Carole's death, mentions of the fight between Bradley and Maverick; breakup; kinda off a happy ending;
Word Count: 1023
A/N: This was written for the @roosterforme's fic challenge #love is in the air tgm. It was inspired by the song "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston. I had so much fun writing it and I hope you all enjoy it.
They were meant to be. That’s what everyone said to them after they got together. It seemed like their friends had been waiting for the news already. (Y/N) and Bradley were so in sync with each other that it was obvious to everyone but them how perfect they worked together.
Her family welcomed him with open arms, which was a blessing. Bradley had little to no family he still had contact with after his mother’s passing and his fall off with his godfather. (Y/N) was the second eldest of five siblings, not to mention all of the cousins. They all loved him. She always told Bradley that he was easy to love.
In times like these, Bradley felt the loss of his mother the most. He was sure that Carole would have loved (Y/N) just as much as she had loved him.
They were meant to be… until they weren’t.
Coming from a big family, all (Y/N) wanted was a good job that could get her out of her parents home. Bradley understood that, after all, he was only in college as a way to get in the Navy, like he always dreamt. Everything was doing fine until their graduation.
“You’ve been strange since yesterday.” Bradley said, loosening his arms from around (Y/N) that was sitting beside him.
She sighed, turning around to look him in the eyes.
“I’ve received a proposal.”
Bradley blinked a couple of times, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“To go to London.”
The breath got caught in his throat as he looked at the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
“London?” He asks.
“Yes.” She confirms. “The office needs someone there and since I just graduated they thought it would be a great opportunity to start this new phase.”
The tension in the room was thick. Neither of them expected to have this conversation so soon. Bradley thought that they would at least have a couple of months to spare.
“You should go.” He finally said after what felt like hours of silence.
“Brad…”
He cuts her off before she can get another word in.
“It’s a great opportunity for you to start your career and…”
Her soft lips are on his and for a moment everything feels right. The kiss lasts only a couple of seconds, but it is enough to dissolve some of the tension, leaving place for sadness to set in.
“We have to talk.” She said.
“There’s nothing to talk about. You have to take this opportunity, you don’t know if you’ll get another.”
“I know.”
Simple as that. No buts, no questions. They both just knew.
“When do you leave?” He asks, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“I don’t know.” She answers, voice breaking.
That’s when the first tears start to fall. Bradley pulls her to him, snuggling themselves together, trying to get as close as they could to forget the storm above their heads.
“We will find a way.” He mumbles against her hair. “Everything will be okay.”
Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, after all.
Bradley had a month to prepare for the academy, (Y/N) was given the same time to prepare for her trip, so they both decided that they would make the most of the little time they had together. It was one of the hardest things he had to do in his life.
After too much talk, the both of them decided that ending their relationship to focus on their careers would be the best decision for both of them. They would be too busy with their jobs to be able to maintain a long distance relationship, so it seemed like the logical decision to make.
They agreed not to have an airport goodbye. (Y/N)’s family took her from Bradley’s place, but he didn’t go. Their goodbye was just their own.
And just like that, Bradley was alone again. He and (Y/N) parted as friends, her family still talked to him almost daily, but how do you stay friends with someone you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with?
With time he stopped answering her, it didn’t take long for her to stop trying to reach out and that’s how he ended up here, standing alone at his tapping out ceremony, with nobody to relieve him.
Until someone tapped him on the shoulder.
Bradley turned around to meet (Y/N) standing there as beautiful as the last time she woke up by his side. He was quick to engulf her in a hug and, before thinking, kissing her.
She tasted like cinnamon and coffee. It was so familiar and yet so strange. When they separated, he was quick to apologize.
“I’m sorry.” He started, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I…”
The words got lost between their lips once she kissed him again.
“Congratulations, soldier.” She mumbled against his lips. “Or should I say sailor?”
Bradley smiles, relinquishing the feeling of her hands caressing his face.
“Soon to be pilot.” He answers, opening his eyes to look at her.
“Well, soon-to-be-pilot, there’s more people here that want to see you.”
She turns around in his arms, making way for him to see her family cheering at him.
“Why is everybody here?” He laughed.
“Are you kidding me?” She asked, smiling. “There was no talking them out of coming to see their favorite member of the family become a soon-to-be-pilot.”
He frowned, unsure of how to react.
“You’re easy to love, Bradley Bradshaw. I’ll always love you and so will they.”
She kissed him again, taking him out of his head a little, before nudging him to go celebrate with her family—their family.
“Common, before they say that I want you all to myself.” She said, taking his hand and adding, “Which is true.”
Bradley smiled, “Later.” He promised. “You can have me all to yourself later.”
And that promise was enough to put both their hearts at ease. Even if they had only tonight, Bradley knew that a part of them would always belong to each other.
#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley rooster bradshaw imagine#top gun: maverick fanfic#mystery writings#amysteryspot#love is in the air tgm
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