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#like not to sound overdramatic but GOD.
eggmeralda · 1 year
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happy valentine's day to swag and entre and only swag and entre
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afieldinengland · 2 years
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#calming myself down. i think i’m making sense of it— speaking to pan#‘indulgence’ is a word that means many things to many people. i do not think i personally am intended to ‘indulge’ in bread#not that i cannot— simply that that is not my ‘indulgence’ of choice.#my indulgence is in my worship— my art my thought. my love#it’s all worship. but pan brings me to his lap with a small stomach#there was recognition in the becoming that brought me out of winter and into pan’s sight. i’m meant to eat birdlike— harelike.#when i’m in control of what i buy and eat that’s what i do. i eat very little but i eat fruit and drink water and milk— and bread too.#in moderation. so i will fast— i will still fast. what i won’t do is attempt to inflict last winter’s rules on this winter’s behaviour.#it’s not a violent sacrifice for an impassive god. it’s simply running lean as a hare should.#perhaps this all sounds like the ramblings of a madman. or like nothing at all. what it has done is calmed me down significantly#i’ll fast. the same the same the same. but it isn’t an act of guilt nor is it cruelty#it’s what i’d do anyway. really it is. and i’ll be responsible about it#you can rejoice in the bacchanal without overgorging on food. moderation. the hare-prince is looking at the sun again#maybe it’s all an overdramatic way to say i’ll lose weight carefully. again. my ‘careful’ is not someone else’s ‘careful’. but i will.#i’ll eat like a wren. a sparrow. a hare. a lamb
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xhopelesslyromanticx · 4 months
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Delusional - Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader
Masterlist
summary: In which the internet once again is fooled by your slightly overdramatic side. Rumors about Lando dumping you circulate but luckily the Mclaren driver is just as delusional as you are. Social Media Au
y/nfewtrell
Home
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y/nfewtrell in my feelings bruh
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maxfewtrell did you take my hoodie?
y/nstans what why????
user567 sense a breakupppp
f1islife stunning
arthur_leclerc *plays taylor swift
user345 arthur what do you know
y/nandlan Lando didn’t like?!
user567 see his post? he seems completely unbothered
user898 Landos too good for her anyw
f1gossip you sound bitter
user787 i just always had weird vibes from her
f1gossip we‘ve met y/n and she‘s literally an angel
y/nfewtrell thanks means a lot
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landonorris
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liked by maxfewtrell and 567‘897 others
landonorris how I try to entertain
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user687 such a hottie
f1fans someone say unbothered cough
georgerussell63 I thought you were on a diet?
alex_albon he‘s abt 4ft tall he doesn’t need a diet
mclaren next week we back to veggies
f1lover wheres the missus
user789 y/n doesn’t attend most gps she goes to university
f1fans yeah but so do Alex and Kika yet they seem to be way more supportive
user789 I‘m sure shes supportive just maybe also focused on her on career?
y/nstans y/n not liking landos post has me scaredddd
maxfewtrell looking smug
landonorris thanks bestieeee
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maxfewtrell
Paris
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liked by landonorris and 123‘890 others
maxfewtrell took the little nugget to paris @y/nfewtrell
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user578 she‘s so cute
f1lover peeping the papaya phone case
norrisandme yes also Lando liked! they goood
y/nfrance we met her yesterday and she seemed fine
arthur_leclerc the nugget in the big city
y/nfewtrell miss you archer
f1gossip my fave friendship
user787 why is she already flirting with guys when the rumors aren’t comfirmed
maxfewtrell oh god if you think y/n can flirt you‘re in for suprises
y/nfewtrell thanks maxie :) loved the trip
team_quadrant let’s go to Brazil!!!!
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f1gossip
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liked by user676 and 12‘899 others
f1gossip You guys know we normally don’t cover anything realitionship releated but it looks like Lando and Y/n are going through some crisis. She appeared on a tiktok crying after a series of mysterious tweets and instagram posts. Neither her or Lando have yet confirmed the rumors. But she has been absent from his likes and vice versa.
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user676 she’s making it obvious
f1fans cloutchaser?
y/nstans shut up
landonorris @y/nfewtrell care to explain missy
y/nfewtrell no i dont care to, peace out
user676 omg they commented
norrislove they clearly are clowing y‘all
maxfewtrell the woman cries like twelfe times a day and people still wonder?
landonorris twelfe is a little much, ten maybe eleven
y/nfewtrell I have my reasons this time!
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y/nfewtrell
Austin Texas
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liked by charlottesine and 234‘890 others
y/nfewtrell my lanlan. I formally apologize for being a lot to handle sometimes. I do love you more than words could even get close to explain. Thanks for being the best boyfriend and bestfriend. Thanks for pretending I‘m 21 forever.
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landonorris my world, anything for you 🧡
y/nfewtrell love youuu
maxfewtrell disgusting
maxfewtrell we all know she aint 21, plus he’s MY bestfriend
f1gossip we stan an overdramatic queen
charlottesine power couple
y/nfewtrell thanks chacha
user787 how annoying all that for such a petty reason
f1fans right i was relieved he had dumped her ass
y/nstans sad people you are, she clearly makes him happy
arthur_leclerc happy 21st I guess ;)
landonorris whats with the wink you twat
f1user y/n control your mans
landonorris
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liked by f1 and 1‘124‘799 others
landonorris happy 21st birthday to the most beautiful 21 one year old I know. I love you so much eventhough your overdramatic soul makes people assume we broke up every couple of months. I love you my angel.
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user676 21!?!?
f1gossip look at y/ns post
f1lover they have me dead
charles_leclerc isn’t she-
arthur_leclerc shut up charlie
maxfewtrell tell them!
y/nfewtrell thanks bean. I love you more.
maxfewtrell bean? cringe
kellypiquet such a beautiful girl
f1gossip so the whole drama reallly was bc she doesn’t wanna turn 22 hahaha
user67 she‘s truly overdramatic
f1 we love a supportive and delusional king
mclaren like a true gentleman Mr.Norris
maxfewtrell
Sao Paulo
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maxfewtrell happy 22nd second you LIAR, never thought Lando would go as delulu as you. Love you nugget.
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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Hahahaha good morning I had the wildest dream last night so I’m going to inflict it on all of you:
(I’m not done with keeper/kept. Just had to get this out)
Warnings for obsessive/possessive behavior, unhealthy and semi-one sided relationship, not-quite-dark John price.
John Price who decides it time he has a wife. Not retiring, god no! He’s not done yet. But his home is lonely when he’s on leave; he’s getting sentimental as he gets “older”. So, he wants a wife.
In theory, it sounds like just what he wants. A pretty warm thing snoozing in his bed when he gets home at ass o’clock in the morning. Someone to fret over new scars and fresh bandages. Someone to fuss at him for “taste testing” meals and wrinkle their nose at his cigars.
In practice, it’s not so easy. If it was, he reckons he would have been married by now. Good thing he’s already got the perfect candidate picked out.
You own a small business in his town. Not fabulously wealthy, but comfortable and independent. Something to keep you busy while he’s away but you make your own hours so your schedule it flexible to see him when he has infrequent leave.
And he adores you, knows that you’ve got more than a little crush on him. You smile and blush and reciprocate his interest, have only refrained from perusing anything because you didn’t think he was serious. But oh, he is.
One day you say something particularly charming and he says, “marry me.”
He’s been dropping these little jokes for a while now and you always start laughing because it’s just the kind of dramatic humor you love. Today you say something different than your usual overdramatic “oh but it could never work, captain.”
Today you say, “if only.”
How pathetic is it that you’re holding a candle for a man you’ve never even gotten a coffee with? Your family laments that your can’t spend your whole life married to your job. That they want grandchildren and nieces/nephews, someone to tell embarrassing stories about you to on holidays. You used to roll your eyes, but the prospect doesn’t feel so obligatory anymore.
Anytime you imagine it, it’s John Price there. You’ve stopped trying to imagine it for your heart’s sake.
Except a week later he’s sweeping into your shop and dropping a kiss on your cheek. An unusual greeting, but maybe he’s in a good mood. His hand lingers on the small of your back while you show him the new product that just came in.
You live above your shop and one day he shows up at the door with a bottle of wine, telling you he could use some good company. You’re shocked and confused but he looks like an amalgamation of every heartthrob in a hallmark or romcom you’ve ever “ironically” enjoyed. You invite him in.
By mid morning, he’s had you in every room of your apartment. Ate you out slow and greedy on the counters. Bent you over the dining table. Bounced you on his cock on your couch. Fingered his cum out of you in the bathtub. And absolutely ruined you twice over in your own bed.
He even changes the sheets before the two of you pass out that final time. And when you finally do wake up, he’s taken the initiative to brew coffee and make breakfast. It’s like a dream.
He fucks you against the door before he leaves.
When he’s deployed again, he calls you every night. You don’t expect it the first time, but it’s a sweet gesture to show things aren’t ruined. You’re not expecting the second time either and have to call him back when you climb out of the shower. The third time you wait for it, but still startle a bit when his name pops up on the screen.
He calls you every night he can while he’s away. You don’t know what to make of it.
Then one day you come back from errands to see movers in the yard. You think it’s some kind of mistake until John meets you at your car.
“Fire in the next building over,” he explains. “Their insurance will cover all the damages but it’s not safe to stay in your place. Mine’s just up the road. Figured you could stay until it’s sorted out.”
You want to be annoyed, and you almost are. But the overwhelm of nearly losing everything - only to have all the stress already handled and the important, nerve wracking decisions smoothed over? You just take the good luck.
To thank John for his generosity (and to fill the void of not running the shop) you bustle around his too-big house. Cook meals, keep things tidy. Keep John company when he manages to snag you from your gratitude-induced work.
He spends hours fucking you nice and slow, whispering things you barely remember in your ear. That you’re perfect for him, so sweet like a little wife, that he’d come home to you for the rest of his life. You kiss him quiet and rock back against him when it starts sounding too tempting.
Eventually, the repairs on your shop/apartment are done. It feels like a rude awakening to a pleasant dream. Instead of moving your things back, John moves more things in. When you tell him that you appreciate his kindness, but you should probably get back to your own space, he gets an odd look. Asks what you mean when this is your space.
And the trap springs closed.
“John,” you half-laugh, shaking your head. “We’re not actually married you know?”
“Not last I checked.”
The marriage certificate gets framed in the bedroom you’ve been sharing for a month. You storm out and stay in a hotel. He lets you for three days before coming to retrieve you. When you try to be stubborn, he gives you an exasperated look (as if you’re the one being unreasonable) and politely asks that you not make a scene by forcing him to carry you of there.
For your own reputation, you comply, glowering out his car window the whole ride to his house. Try to give him the silent treatment which lasts about 30 minutes before he’s got you moaning and whining on his cock.
He drives you to the shop in the morning and picks you up at night. Anytime you try to put your little foot down, he just scoops you off them. The neighbors start cooing that he’s such a good man. You try not to scream.
When he’s finally deployed again, you try to move all your things back to your home. Except the movers apologetically tell you that they can’t trespass on John’s property.
Fine, you’ll do it yourself. Somehow.
You pack two suitcases and some of your cookware. Load it all up in a rental - because John sent your damn car into the shop - and trying to get comfortable in your own flat again.
Except it’s all wrong. The scent of smoke still lingers, it’s cold because the heating hasn’t been turned on yet this year. Half your things are gone and there’s no food in the fridge or pantries. You tough it out. Buy a ready-made meal and new bed linens and pillow. Sleep in a bed too cold even with the heat finally on.
When John calls, you don’t answer. He sends a text that simply reads “I love you.” You toss your phone across the room.
The next night, when he calls again and you don’t answer, he sends a “stay safe, love.” You spend twenty minutes with fingers poised over the keys. Chug a glass of wine and send back a neutral “you too, John”.
When he calls on the third night, you pick up, bark a sharp “knock it off” and hang up. Another text that he was so happy to hear your voice.
Another call, you pick up and demand “what are you doing?” He chuckles on the other end. “Calling my darling wife. I miss you.” You believe him. That’s the worst part.
When he gets back, you ride the long, long river of denial right up until he’s at your door, eyebrows arched. “Really, love,” he hums, “you didn’t have to come all the way over here just because you missed me.”
You want to hit him. You storm off to your bedroom instead. He wanders the house. You hear him clattering in the kitchen and wandering around the living room. When you hear the door close, you think he’s finally left and given all this up.
Twenty minutes later, he’s casually removing the door (sans hinges) and gathering you up. When you get back to his house, he carries you inside and fucks the tantrum right out of you in the shower, growling that you don’t smell like home anymore.
When you wake up from your three-orgasm induced nap, he’s washing the clothes you took to your old flat. On your left hand is a pretty diamond with “JP” carved into the band.
At the store, people start calling you “Mrs. Price”. The neighbors (John’s neighbors) invite you over as “the Prices”. You glare at him when he starts looking too smug about it.
When he’s set to deploy again, he sits you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with arms.
“Don’t make me come get you this time,” he warns, pressing kisses along your jaw. “This is gonna be a rough one. I just want to see you when I get home.”
It’s a warning that you know to heed. You don’t try to leave this time. When he calls, you answer, rattling off stupid details about your day. You’re shocked to hear him remember names and dates and tasks with everything else hes got going on. Promises he’ll deal with the creep at the post office when he gets home.
“And… you are coming home… right?” you ask.
“Nothing could keep me away, love.”
He doesn’t call for three days straight. You tell yourself the tightness in your chest is just anxiety over how the hell to handle his assets if he’s dead.
At 3am, the bed dips, a warm body pressing up against your back. You recognize John’s arms wrapping tight around your waist. You stir.
“Are you alright?” you ask.
“Perfect now, love.”
“Mm welcome home.”
“Good to be home, gorgeous.”
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nouvxllev · 28 days
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Hi, love your writing! I have a request where reader and Jenna are in a long distance relationship and reader decides to surprise Jenna after hearing Jenna’s been having a tough week filming or something. Just something along those lines haha
a flight away
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: ^^ request!!!
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: bittersweet
a/n: first of all,, thank you so much!!!! and second of all, ill try my best! hope this is to ur liking anon
masterlist
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You didn't know what you were getting into the first thing in the morning when you checked your phone at exactly 6:34 AM.
Normally, you'd do the routine where you stare at your wallpaper (it was a picture of Jenna) for a good 20 minutes before internally dying inside because of why should she be such a hardworking woman to the point you only get to see her for about 1-2 months before leaving again, but then fall in love with her like it was the first time for that exact reason entirely.
Now, you woke up to Jenna's notifications flooding her digital face, more voicemails and missed calls rather than messages.
Obviously, you panicked out of your fucking mind.
You knew she was safe in Ireland where she was filming season 2 of Wednesday. She has more bodyguards around her than people trying to get her autograph, and she has her co-stars with her at all times.
She was safe. Safe. The word almost sounded like a prayer you repeated in your head as you eyed her messages.
You couldn't open the voicemail for the reasons that you might hear an announcement that Jenna has got into some serious shit and might need to be hospitalized and you absolutely need to be there for her right now.
But after 5 minutes of going through all stages of grief, you pressed play.
You were not expecting Jenna to outright scream at her phone in the middle of the night.
"Y/n. Y/n, I—God, I don't even know where to start with this. I'm just so… so tired. From everything, from everyone. I don't know why, seriously, I don't know why but i just—I just broke down when I came back to my apartment."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to message you like this in the middle of the night. I'm doing well in Ireland, but I'm having such a rough fucking time in shooting every scene. It's not like I hate everyone on the set, I love them, I… I don't know."
"I need you, please Y/n. Even if it's just your voice, just please give me a piece of your presence. I need something to hold on, someone to tell me that it's going to be okay and I'll get through this. I know, it's a bit overdramatic but… I just miss you so damn much, and this distance is killing me more than ever. We haven't seen eachother atleast a year now. I'm so tired."
"Please pick up, y/n. It's selfish for me to ask, but I just want to hear you. It feels like I'm losing myself in all of this. I don't want to break down in front of everyone on set tomorrow. But, y/n. Y/n, y/n, y/n, it's so hard."
"I love you. I love you so much. So damn much, it's killing me. I miss New York, I miss our home, I miss you. I wish you were here. I'm sorry for letting you hear me like this over the phone, it's unbecoming. I love you, goodnight."
Your heart sank.
It was all too surreal, all too agonizing, like you feel bile coming up to your throat.
The daunting feeling of Jenna experiencing all of these emotions at once dragged your heart, her voice like a film tape in your mind as if were right there with Jenna in her room.
You heard her cry, you watched her curl herself up on her mattress all while she clung to her phone as if it was your hand she wished she held everyday.
You craved for the warmth of her hand, and you imagine she craves yours as much as you do with hers while you longed to be there with her, for her. To hold her close to you and offer the comfort she needed. The very touch that healed every scar, present and future, was replaced by the lifeless screen of your phone.
You were there, you swear you're there, but you couldn't do anything but listen.
On top of everything, you blamed yourself.
You called her almost everyday, the long-distance relationship being almost a mere label to the both of you.
You texted her every morning and went to bed with her every night. You were there, always. Yet, it felt like you neglected her. Like a piece of you was missing before you even realized it.
Now all you can think about are her restless nights.
The days where Jenna staged a performance with a heavy heart while you smiled with joy, the nights where you slept peacefully in your own bed while Jenna tossed and turned in discomfort in something unfamiliar, sacrificing her rest for your peaceful evenings to remain the same.
You don't know how many days she's been like this, nor do you want to know, the thought was unbearable enough.
And you almost feel bad of booking a plane ticket rather than responding to her. You were just a flight away anyways.
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Shit, her head hurts.
Hammering, actually.
Like someone cracked it open with an axe made out of obsidian right down the middle and served it to her on a silver platter.
She never should've accepted that afterparty invite from Georgie.
If she never got absolutely wasted to shots from bottles of alcohol, maybe Jenna would've had the brain capacity to curse him under her breath for being such a good damn friend.
Worst of all, she was missing someone. Horribly.
You.
Not just you, but everything of you.
Your scent, your warmth, your presence, your heartbeat against hers—a cruel reminder on how she was missing all of these.
She longed to hear the way you laugh as if you heard the funniest joke ever, the way you smile at Jenna as if she was a saint that had done nothing wrong, the way you loved her oh so dearly like she was the only person that made you crawl out of your skin in a good way.
Now it was taken from her. All of it. She felt like she was nothing without her muse, which was actually the case here.
Jenna was supposed to stay for a year with you—a whole fucking year! A whole year was watered down to a pathetic one to two months because of a change in filming schedule that Jenna had, somehow, no right to turn down.
That's not even half of the time Jenna spent miles away from you, and she couldn't even apologize properly in person since she had to depart so early in the morning.
The thought of you expecting Jenna to wake up beside you with a smile and a kiss only to be woken up with a cold bed with a note apologizing a million times made her flight to another country worse.
She would've been happier if the plane crashed then she would be begging to whatever afterlife she was in to bring her back to the living and spend her life with you.
It's gotten to that point where she looked just like Wednesday off-cam if not worse. She even almost snapped at Emma when she tried consoling her.
Now she sits in her trailer, on a chair, not with you, but with... a chair. Along with her script on a table.
Jenna tried a few lines, repeated them, tried a few lines, repeated them, and it all just comes back full circle.
No matter what she does, she still fucking missed you and wished she could just tell everyone she wanted and needed a nap along with her girlfriend by her side until it reaches winter of 2025.
She could take a nap right now, but you weren't with her. The cold surface would make you appear in her dreams like the loving parasite you are to her and she would only yearn more.
She could take a walk right now, but little ice cream shops along the way would only make her reminisce about the times you would take her out on dates every damn day like you had buckets on buckets of gold to spend it all on Jenna. She would only miss you even more.
She could talk to one of her co-stars, but they weren't you. The stupid and fuckass conversations you'd often bring up, they wouldn't do that. Even if they did, it wouldn't have the same effect.
Why did life suddenly become so difficult when she now has the most gorgeous, talented, and loving girlfriend a billion miles away from her!?
After putting her arms over her eyes, trying to calm down the impending woe and sadness she was facing, a soft knock on her door interrupted all of it.
"Jenna?" She heard Emma's voice, soft like she was hesitant to talk to her if not for Jenna responding with a hum, "we've been calling you for 5 minutes now. It's our scene."
Her voice was serious, though quiet. Or maybe that was just concern, Jenna has been distant for a while now.
Letting out a sigh, she replied, "Right, I'll be there in a minute."
She pulled herself up from the chair. She didn't really need to return to the makeup team, just thankful she didn't cry herself to death thinking about you.
She turned her back to see Emma standing in front of the door, half opened, peering half of her body, "Jenna, you know you can take a break if you want—"
Jenna only offered a weak smile, her steps matching Emmas as they walked over to set, "It's fine. Don't worry about me too much."
Her thoughts are too different from what she was saying, but it wasn't like she could say she'd rather kill herself before even stepping foot out of her trailer without seeing y/n.
"Jenna!" Tim Burton called her out, his voice calm, stretching out her name like he was going to say something completely off-guard.
The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script"
The girl in question was already staring him down as he spoke, "We've got a change in script. Nothing too big, just that we've added a new extra that Wednesday needs to interact with on this scene."
Isn't that a slight bit unprofessional?
Jenna could let out the most exhausted and exasperated sigh if not for Tim being the one of the sweetest, yet often odd, directors she ever worked with.
"Yeah, sure, can I atleast meet this person—"
"Sorry, Jenna," He lead her to the place she needed to be, the extra in question being no where near in Jenna's sight, "but this is really a last minute change and we just need you both to improvise."
"Wait, but—!"
Her protests were already too late, looking like it went through one ear and out the other through the audio. She was just grateful she had enough training and years in this industry to immediately get into character.
It was supposed to be her scene with Emma, lurking in the woods, a lantern between her fingers as they approached a silhouette of a figure.
Now it was just Jenna in the scene, lurking in the woods, leaves crunching under her combat boots as she watched the camera move alongside her body, not a lantern but rather a flashlight gripped on her palm.
She was informed that the silhouette in question was one of her co-stars that she had met before hand, a tall figure in the distance that she could immediately distinguish based on the back alone.
Now... it's... not exactly what she was expecting to see when she got in character.
She approached the figure, confused as ever, not because it was in her script to do so, but she was actually so damn confused it wouldn't be a surprise to her if she was imagining things.
Because the silhouette looked exactly like you.
Jenna knew you from the slightest shade of your skin, even when it's so damn dark outside.
She knew you from the way you stood, the way you sometimes would do whatever it is with your hands when idle, the way you'd often slightly tilt your head back when you're suppressing a hard giggle—which you were and failing to do so—the way you, in your own words by the way, aren't a good actress for Jenna to practice her lines on without laughing like a total maniac.
Holy shit.
Jenna's mind raced, all too fast for her liking, her heart pounding in her chest, and her body almost in flames at the thought of you being here. Finally being here.
It couldn't be real, of course it wouldn't, why would you be on set in fucking Ireland? It must be a trick, much so a figment of her imagination and maybe more or less girlfriend deprived of everything you gave her. But as she drew closer, her steps doing all but walking slowly to the silhouette, it because unmistakable who it was.
It was you.
Her best friend ever since she learned how to act in middle school, a friend that stuck with her forever even in times where you could've left her all alone.
Her girlfriend. The girlfriend of almost a few years that she loved and cherished with all her might, even if she were to commit a sin, there would be no greater wrong than Jenna disliking you.
It was her home. At last.
Without a second thought, Jenna abandoned everything, forgetting that she was even supposed to be the character she was and rushed towards her, arms already stretched in a desperate embrace to feel your warmth against her body once again. Your heartbeat against hers. It was all too surreal, all too fucking real.
Jenna threw herself into your arms, wrapping you in a tight hug that almost knock you both off of balance in the dirt. Your body stumbling forwards as your back was faced on her.
You still smelled like New York, mixed with that familiar airpot scent that Jenna always got used to. But now, it felt so new, so new that you were hugging her, touching her like it was the last symphony you'd play in your life.
She hugged you, tight. Her hands gripping your clothes like you'd disappear in a matter of seconds. You can hear her taking deep breaths against your body, gulps, and her hold tightening onto you with each passing moment.
As you turned around, you waited for Jenna to slowly loosen her grip, her eyes searching yours as if she still could hardly believe that you were here, standing in front of her after all this time apart. And now, you couldn't believe devotion was still present in her eyes, that warm of a gaze that you always managed to capture in her eyes.
"You're here. Y/n, you're—" She sniffed, looking up at you as she cupped your cheeks, a stray tear trickling down her eyes that shimmered, "You're really here." She whispered, her voice cracking almost to a fault. Her voice was fragile, it crushed you. "Why, how? What, I don't under—"
You smiled softly, chuckling even, you didn't expect it to go this way. "That's not part of the script, Wednesday." You joked, even if it was a serious moment, you always seemed to have one.
"You're not part of the script, why are you here!?"
You reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jenna's fringe as Wednesday, your touch gentle and reassuring like it never changed over the years. It was still there, your love was still there, and you were waiting for your lover to come back once in your arms to show how much you missed her oh so dearly.
"I missed you." You simply said, slightly swaying the both of you back and forth
Jenna couldn't say anything, let alone form a few words, but the way she hugged you yet again after a few seconds of silence with such tenderness and compassion, it said everything that you needed to know.
Everything that you lost and you hold today, nothing mattered. Not even the heart that wouldn't stop beating against your chest, it wouldn't matter if you died, atleast it was in her arms.
"So I don't get to have an I miss you back?"
Jenna pulled back slightly, you can see how her eyes glistened looking if it was something that not even renaissance artists could sclupt.
"You don't know how many nights I've spent crying because of how I missed you." She mumbled, voice below a whisper, her mouth hung open from her slight crying, taking a deep breath as she let herself be in the most vulnerable state with you yet.
"You cried?"
"Without you? Terribly so."
Your heart ached when Jenna started to cry, she looked small. Smaller than ever in your arms when you once held her for the first time when she became a busy actress.
She broke down, almost melting in your presence as you try to hold her up. You knew there were cameras rolling, that there were people on set watching this go down, but you knew that you were the only one witnessing her vulnerable state, no matter how many people would see right through her.
You reached up to gently wipe away the tears that streaked down her cheeks, her freckles being in view, something that you missed so dearly, your touch light and tender as you held her—your world—in your hands.
"I wish I could've been there for you," you regretted, "I wish I was there every night, to wipe away the inevitable tears that would grace your face, to hold you in my arms every night.
Jenna shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips, "all that matters is that you're here with me." She chuckled. "Why are you here?"
"Booking a small plane ticket from New York to here was the smallest price to pay for the chance to hold you in my arms once again."
"You know those are expensive, y/n," she scolded you, yet her tone was playful. "How long are you planning to stay?"
You hummed, a grin curling on your lips, "As long as you want me to be here," you replied, "I can't go back when I don't have a return ticket."
Jenna leaned into your touch, her eyes closing as she savored the warmth of your embrace, she didn't know how much she took advantage of this until now. She was afraid you'll be leaving soon, even with all assurances, everything you'll be giving her wouldn't be enough to ease her fears of you departing from her soul once more.
"I love you, y/n. Too much."
"I love you too, Jenna. You know I was only a flight away."
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Y: i heard your voicemails, by the way. J: i sent voicemails?
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a/n: sorry if this request was so so so late!! i still have more requests in my inbox and they'll probably be delayed for a couple of days or maybe even weeks because of exams. buttt ill try to post as much as i can with requests and super sorry in advance to those who requested! ill be updating future posts in my masterlists
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kleewie · 2 months
Text
i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)
summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)
→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)
→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)
→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!
credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!
beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!
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the debut.
“forbidden?” you repeat.
“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”
you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.
you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.
besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.
remembering it now, you want to laugh.
i told you so, your thoughts chastise.
god, you should've listened.
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childe, the actor
“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.
your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.
you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.
childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.
but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.
for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.
the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.
yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.
“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”
you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.
as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.
eight months, you've been a couple.
but, there are some things you're afraid to say.
each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.
yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.
you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!
it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.
so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.
“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.
two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.
“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”
you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”
“then what is the problem?”
childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.
he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.
“me?” childe whispers.
he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.
“why?” he pleads.
“you won't understand.”
“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”
you hesitate. you tell him and then what?
you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.
your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.
so, you shake your head firmly.
“tell me, please.” he whispers.
you cross your arms, and look away.
“are you sick?”
you shake your head.
“somebody hurting you on set?”
again, you shake your head.
childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”
“no!”
“then what is the damn problem?”
“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.
childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.
is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.
“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.
you keep your mouth firmly shut.
“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”
childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”
with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.
leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.
more under the cut!
despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.
he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.
surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.
stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.
he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.
however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.
the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.
a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.
as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.
the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.
“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”
the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”
“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”
“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.
you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”
“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”
you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”
“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.
irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”
childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”
you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”
“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.
“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”
he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”
your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”
“publicity, baby.”
you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”
“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”
“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”
he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.
“you're terrible.”
“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”
a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”
childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”
“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”
childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.
“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”
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bonus: five years later
your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.
‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.
‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.
‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.
you even receive a message from childe himself.
‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’
attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.
you click the link.
the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.
a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.
the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.
“um. hello, childe!”
the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.
the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”
childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”
the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.
but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”
quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.
to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”
the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.
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ayato, company director
“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”
friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.
dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?
god, you need a drink.
the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.
who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.
but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.
you swallow the thought down.
as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.
not now, his expression conveys.
you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.
so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.
it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.
you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.
suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.
“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”
you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”
ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”
you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.
a friend, he says to his business partners.
a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.
a companion, he whispers to his family.
you're sick and tired of it. all of it.
raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.
ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”
soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.
you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”
“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.
you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”
before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.
“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”
he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.
you swallow the bitter thought.
“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.
ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.
ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”
“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”
her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.
“they're just close friends, you know.”
you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”
ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”
sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”
“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”
“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”
“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”
you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.
you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.
you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.
however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.
and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?
you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.
even from you.
and the thought sours your mood.
excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.
you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.
“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.
you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.
maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.
“what did you discuss with kokomi?”
“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”
“answer the question.”
he smiles, “business as always.”
you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”
ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.
you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.
“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.
you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”
“don't toy with me, darling.”
as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?
last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”
yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.
if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.
but he didn't.
so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.
your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.
if only he didn't ask.
“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”
ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”
you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”
“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”
your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”
anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”
ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”
he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.
ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.
although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.
but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.
he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.
he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.
instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.
“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”
ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”
“yes.”
“they'll catch a cold.”
“they will.”
he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”
“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”
ayato stays silent.
“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”
he sighs.
“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”
after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.
“can we talk?” he begins.
you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”
“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.
“i know.”
“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”
“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”
he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.
you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”
“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”
“i'm so sorry.”
“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”
relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.
the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.
“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”
“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”
he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”
a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”
“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”
“no.” you scold.
“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”
you laugh, “prove it.”
your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.
“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”
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bonus: ten minutes before the clash
“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.
ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”
“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”
“they do.”
“have you told them?”
“...it may have slipped past my mind.”
kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”
ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”
“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”
he chuckles.
“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”
“they asked me to when we started dating.”
she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”
“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”
“sadistic.”
“kokomi?”
she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”
“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”
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author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).
so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.
plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)
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cartierre · 1 year
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YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL | cs55
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU carlos sainz x fem!reader
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♡ liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 293,382 others
tagged: carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari
yourusername you're lucky red suits me
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carlossainz55 red's your colour ⤷ yourusername we like it spicy in this household
charles_leclerc when is carlos inviting you to the paddock madame ⤷ yourusername already miss me? ⤷ user1 is she blatantly flirting with charles ⤷ user2 and people say carlos is the one exploiting her because of her young age? nah, that girl knows what she's doing
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tagged: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari
yourusername alexa play 'the other woman' by lana del rey
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carlossainz55 don't be overdramatic mi amor ⤷ yourusername i know you're calling charles babygirl behind my back ⤷ landonorris she got you there mate
user3 imagine having been a ferrari fan since you were young and manifasting that shit so bad you started dating a ferrari driver ⤷ yourusername that's exactly how it went
user4 i just realised carlos and y/n ain't even born in the same generation ⤷ user5 watch carlos entering his leonardo dicaprio era
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yourusername did i run through an alley for 30min straight while charles and lando lit up the place with their iphone flashes for carlos to take good pictures of me? yes, yes i did.
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charles_leclerc it was a whole workout ⤷ carlossainz55 i think i sweat more during that photoshoot than in a race ⤷ yourusername keep it up grandpas, lando didn't complain at all ⤷ landonorris the age difference
user6 them playing into their whole age gap thing gives me the actual ick ⤷ yourusername yk you can just unfollow?
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tagged: yourusername
carlossainz55 mi luna, mi estrella, mi amor [my moon, my star, my love]
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yourusername no hablo español [i don't speak spanish] ⤷ carlossainz55 te amo [i love you] ⤷ yourusername yo también te amo [i love you too] ⤷ yourusername yes i used google translate
user7 age differences aside, they're adorable ⤷ user8 heavy emphasis on age differences aside
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tagged: carlossainz55
yourusername dios mío, hace calor [oh my god, it's hot]
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carlossainz55 i regret teaching you spanish ⤷ yourusername tú no [you do not]
user9 am i the only one imagining y/n asking carlos to teach her slang in spanish ⤷ user10 i bet he doesn't even speak much slang considering his age ⤷ user11 y'all make it sound like he's 55 and not 28
charles_leclerc now you only need to learn italian and french ⤷ yourusername no, grazie! non, merci! [no, thank you! in italian/french] ⤷ user12 multilingual queen
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yourusername young and beautiful (and sexy)
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personasintro · 6 months
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Mutual Help | #52
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15.1k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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"Ah, I don't know!"
Frustratedly sighing and rubbing your forehead, you give your friend a pleading look as if you weren't whining and sighing for the past ten minutes which eventually brought him to this door. Leaning against the door frame with arms crossed over his big chest, he shoots you an amused grin your way.
"Just pack whatever. I don't see how this is a big deal."
"It's not a big deal," you correct him. "Stop making it look as if I'm overdramatic." you scold him and it's this time that you hear a sigh coming from Jungkook, though his one is more subtle.
Still, you hear it and you narrow your eyes at him.
"Do you even know where we are going? I can't just pack comfortable clothes and then your mom is like 'Boom, we're going to the restaurant' or something. I can't come to Busan, to your parents house in a bag full of sweats and leggings."
"Why not?" Jungkook shoots amusingly, cackling when he sees your annoyed expression.
You hate when you're serious and he's just there making fun of you.
It's Thursday and you're supposed to go to Busan, visit Jungkook's parents as planned. To not sleep there for one night only, Jungkook wants to go on Friday (not that he has much choice considering his mother told him to come Friday before she hung up, not giving him any chance to protest). You don't think he would protest though. After the scolding he got for hanging up on her, she got back right at him and you're not going to lie – you had the time of your life when Jungkook told you about it after you came back from work.
Jungkook himself confessed that if he is going to his hometown, he wants to stay there the whole weekend, including the Friday – or as much as it's left of it since he's working on that day too. Either way, it wouldn't pay off to stay there for one night only.
"Stop it," you whine, "I don't want to overpack."
"Just bring something comfortable and then something nice, in case we go out. I don't know what my mom's got planned, it's hard to tell with her. Maybe we will be staying home or going to one restaurant but I don't think it's gonna be anything fancy." Jungkook finally offers you a good response, walking closer to you as he rubs your tensed shoulders.
It's not like you're frustrated by the simple packing. You're tired, luckily fresh out of shower and today hasn't been a good day. On top of it all you have to pack it now since right after you clock out of work, Jungkook is going to pick you up so you both can go to Busan. It sounds complicated, and though it isn't, you proposed not going to Busan with him.
You'd love to. You love Jungkook's family and well, his mom sort of invited you and it would be rude not to turn up after the call you had with her. Though you know she'd be understanding, you still don't want to risk it. You're sort of people's pleaser – just when it comes to some people and it's mostly people close to you or someone you care about at some point. Plus, it's not like you have anything important to do over the weekend and it sounds fun to get out of Seoul.
In the end, Jungkook refused your proposition and wouldn't want to hear about it.
"You're tense," Jungkook comments behind you, rubbing the place between your neck and shoulders as you sigh in delight. "What's wrong?"
"Just a long day," you explain easily. "Don't worry."
"Good," he chuckles softly, "Then finally pack something for god's sake."
You elbow him into his stomach, his laugh resounding behind you as you quickly fold the clothes that have been spread on your bed, putting it into the travel bag which Jungkook will take with him once he's about to come get you from work. He's going to be home earlier, so he'll get your stuff and make sure the apartment is all good.
"You're so fucking annoying," you mutter, trying to sound as annoyed as possible. "I don't know why I am voluntarily about to spend a whole weekend with you. I could've just stayed here and enjoyed the peace."
"Oh, come on," Jungkook snorts, "You'd miss me the moment I'd step out of this place."
This time it's your turn to snort as you toss the travel back into the corner. Turning around to face him, you cross your arms over your chest and lift your brow at him. "Get over yourself."
"Come on now, don't be like this." he says with a grin, slowly getting closer to you while you try to keep your posture and not let him see you falling apart.
But the moment the tip of his toes almost brush against your own and you're met with the clearest sight of his brown dark eyes, your posture breaks a little and your arms slide along your sides. Jungkook's lip twitches as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, the intimate touch causing your breath to hitch as he watches your entire face.
He is the epitome of how dangerous some men can be. You've been around men for a few years now. With having good-looking friends, let's say it's been a challenge. With knowing them and not crossing any boundaries, you can look back and see things differently now. However, that cannot be exactly said about Jungkook. He is special, between three of your friends, you've grown the closest to him. And sometimes you wonder how the hell you got into this mess. A mess you so shamelessly want to be in, if it makes you enjoy your time together. Whether as best friends only or as fuck-buddies who love to fuck each other's brains out.
Will you be able to go back to how things were? 
He is still your best friend and whenever you don't have sex, it's like nothing has changed. He is still the same Jungkook and you're still the same Y/N. Maybe that's the only thing that calms down your nerves whenever you spend your time overthinking or looking back at your friendship.
And now that he is standing right in front of you, all of it is brushed off easily.
"Horny again?" You press your lips together when you see his eyes snapping to yours.
"What do you mean again? We haven't had sex for a long time." he frowns, causing your lips to twitch and you do an awful job to hide the amused grin.
"Over a week isn't a long time." you point out, trying to sound unphased as if you haven't been thinking about his dick during the day.
"According to who? You?" he chuckles, cupping your face as he brushes his nose against yours.
You hate how weak you're already feeling, your heart in your throat, beating loudly.
"According to studies of Harvard–"
Jungkook snorts, lips curling into a satisfied smirk. "You're full of shits,"
He's so close and you wish you could hate yourself for how fast you hypnotize his lips with your lingering gaze. Once he notices his smirk deepens even more, innocently cocking his head to the side in a false act.
"But very well then. I will let you pack." he shrugs, stepping away from you as you stare at him with an indescribable look.
Jungkook presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing at your face, bringing two fingers to his temple as he salutes you. He walks away freely while you stand there with an open mouth and disappointment burning in your chest.
Fucker. 
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The only chances you had to visit Busan have been with Jungkook. Not that there's anything to mind about that because the road is familiar and your brain automatically connects the scenery with him. Even the familiar buildings you've seen from the window of his car, or the stores you never visited in person – all of it reminds you of the times he brought you here.
Now, there haven't been many times you've visited this beautiful city with its own spark and uniqueness. This is your second time to spend the night here – all those times before were where you visited and came back home the same day.
Straight out of the work, you're embarrassed that you preferred to rest your eyes and listen to the muffled music of Jungkook's playlist, rather than admiring the scenery the entire ride. The Jeon family house looks just the same, bringing you back the memories you created here the last time you visited. It hasn't been that long ago but a wave of nostalgia hits you.
And the warmth of Mrs. Jeon's big smile as she opens the front door and spots her son makes you oddly emotional. The petite woman rushes towards her youngest son and crushes him in a big hug. The sight is both touching and funny, considering their size difference as Jungkook looks totally scrunched up in the hug, despite his mother being nowhere as tall.
When she pulls away and gives the loving and warm look to her son, she suddenly pokes him in the chest as she starts her set of scolding which makes you snicker while you take out your bag from the truck.
"Y/N, dear!" Mrs. Jeon turns her attention to you, giving you a warm and definitely less crushing hug, but it feels nothing but nice and welcoming. "Look at you! Beautiful as always."
"Mrs. Jeon," you greet her, feeling your cheeks getting hot at her straight-forward (and very kind) compliment. "You're the one who's beautiful here."
"Oh come on, I might be getting old but I'm not stupid." she comments with an attitude, waving you off as she sends you a grin you've seen somewhere before.
The 'somewhere' is the person who wraps his arm around Mrs. Jeon's shoulders, pulling her closer to his side as he gives a soft kiss into her black hair. "You're beautiful, mom."
"My son," she almost cries out as she hugs him again and you feel your heart clench, fighting back the tears. You don't even know why you're suddenly so emotional. "Don't think I'm gonna get easy on you though. Do you hang up on your mother? The woman who carried you for nine months? Yah!"
She's back to scolding him, Jungkook scrunching his nose in shame as he gives her an exhausted sigh. "Mom, we went over this. I love you and I'm here. Can you please let us come inside so the whole neighborhood doesn't witness you scolding an adult man?"
Snickering, you and Jungkook share an amused look as he takes your travel back from you, holding yours and his as well while you close the truck.
"Who cares about the neighbors," she mutters but still looks around to see if there are any prying eyes and ears which are common in a neighborhood full of houses. "You might be an adult but you're still my son."
"Yeah, yeah," he mutters, "Can we go? We're tired from the drive."
She shoots Jungkook a look before she looks at you and suddenly her face completely relaxes. She gives you the same warm smile, leading you inside the house where Mr. Jeon waits in the living room. The hug between a dad and a son is a great thing to witness once again and as soon as Jungkook's dad makes sure he greets you just as warmly, a sense of happiness and security washes over you. You would say it's the house you're in that makes you feel this way, but it's the people in it who do.
After the nice welcome and catching up while eating the delicious dinner Mrs. Jeon has prepared, the exhaustion from the whole day and the drive here catches up to you. You do your best not to start yawning and you slip a few times, sheepishly trying to hide the natural reaction of your body with your palm. But there's not a single thing Jungkook misses and he easily tells openly you're tired, ignoring the stare you give him. You feel bad.
Jungkook's parents have been so excited to see him, and they've been so kind that they always tried to include you in their conversation. Not even for a second you felt like an outcast while they caught up with their son. They asked Jungkook something and then averted their attention toward you, which is very kind of them.
"Oh, of course! You both were working today," Mrs. Jeon says as she cleans up the plates, Mr. Jeon helps her right away and you mentally coo at how compatible they seem to look. "The room is all ready for you dear."
You stand up to help her, thanking her as she sweetly shoos you away and tells you her husband will help her.
"Jungkook, you should take some fresh sheets for yourself. I prepared them for you in our bedroom."
You look at Jungkook, noticing how sour his face turns and you clasp your hand over your mouth to hide the snort, immediately reminded of the last time you were here and you were discussing the bed situation.
"You said my room is all ready." Jungkook comments, even though he knows what's going to follow right after but he's shameless, not hiding his displeasure of having to sleep on the couch for the whole weekend.
"Yah!" Mrs. Jeon tosses the kitchen towel, glaring at her son from across the room.
Jungkook's little teasing grin is not hard to miss at all, not even for his own mother who's ready to scold him all over again. A major deja vú.
"I was talking to Y/N. The room is ready for her, not for you. I hope you don't expect her to sleep on the couch."
"Mom, we had this conversation the last time," Jungkook whines like a little kid while Mr. Jeon presses a soft kiss to his wife's temple before he scurries away as soon as possible.
You watch the sight amusingly, silently admiring Jungkook's courage and non-existent shame – not even when it comes to his mother.
"Me and Y/N can share the bed."
"Yah, Jeon Jungkook!" She grabs the kitchen towel and is ready to smack the hell out of Jungkook while he starts laughing. "That is completely inappropriate and you know it!"
"Mom, it's just a bed. Have you never shared a bed with your friend?" Jungkook tries again, hiding the amused smirk as she huffs and tries to adjust her black hair a little.
"What do you think of your mother, huh?!" she exclaims, this time ready to pinch his cheeks but thanks to their height difference, Jungkook dodges her hands easily and hugs her instead. "You guys are a different generation, but under my roof–"
"Alright, alright," Jungkook laughs, pecking the top of her head. "I can respect that."
"How can you even suggest that? What about poor Y/N? Do you think she wants to share a bed with a mountain man taking up most of the space?" she asks, still with a scolding tone into his chest as her voice comes out muffled.
Jungkook looks at you, cocking his brow at you just as his mother pulls away slightly and waits for your reaction.
"You're right, Mrs. Jeon. I'm gonna enjoy his bed all to myself." you tell proudly, teasingly grinning at Jungkook who narrows his eyes.
"Our couch is comfortable, Jungkook. I don't know why you are so difficult about this."
"I just want my old bed," Jungkook pouts as she scolds him with one look but he doesn't budge. "Sue me for wanting to sleep in there and relive my old life."
"Then you should come more often." Mrs. Jeon's response is quicker than any of you can blink, leaving Jungkook with an open mouth as he frowns unpleasantly.
"That's not fair..." he murmurs with an attitude.
"You're not five, Jungkook-ah." His mother reminds him as you snort, Jungkook sulking as he rolls his eyes.
"I don't know how you women can be cold sometimes."
"You men wouldn't be able to live without us in your lives."
Her response is sassy, showing you a new side of her as you gape with open mouth before you start laughing. Jungkook's lips twitch as his gaze stays on his mother as he shakes his head in amusement.
Well, she wasn't exactly wrong.
As soon as Jungkook glances at you, you cock your brow at him in a silent "She's right". He eyes you up and down with a cocky glint in his eyes, tonguing his cheek as he remains silent. It's better to excuse yourself to go take a shower, quickly avoiding his gaze. But you still hear the silent but deep chuckle rumbling out of his chest.
He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at you as you retrieve yourself upstairs – his mother no longer engaging herself in the conversation as she starts casual conversation instead.
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Jungkook waits a good moment or a few after the house quiets down, killing his time by browsing through his social media and watching random youtube videos. He checks the time, it's almost midnight. Though everyone went to bed a little later than usual, he knows it's caused by his and yours late arrival. His parents obviously wanted to catch up in person, enjoy him while he stays in his hometown.
His mother misses the fuck out of him but still makes him sleep on the couch.
Unbelievable. He scoffs silently.
He understands why. He wouldn't let you sleep on the couch anyway. He just loves to tease his mom and she knows it. She still gives him a reaction every time which makes the whole thing even funnier.
Jungkook is completely fine with you staying in his room. He might joke around a lot on the outside, but he believes he is a gentleman in these kinds of things. There's no need to blame her for not approving for you and him to sleep in the same bed. He knows she says one thing but he's not sure if she would totally mind. She's aware of your close friendship and that you're comfortable with each other. Nobody sees inside her head but he guesses she thinks of your friendship as a sibling kind of relationship. What she isn't aware of is that Jungkook gets to fuck the shit out of you and you're way past the sibling relationship.
Well, it's not something for her to know anyway.
You've been in Jungkook's life long enough for them to know you. Whether it's personally or from Jungkook's mentioning you whenever he talked to them about the most casual stuff. Obviously, they were aware of you becoming his best friend from the beginning.
Jungkook isn't too subtle by opening the door from his old bedroom, walking into the darkness and space so casually that it could be comical if there were any lights turned on. You could be asleep for all he knows but that proves to be not true when your deadpanned voice resounds in the silence.
"You can't be serious."
Jungkook grins, a breathy and evil chuckle leaving his lips as he practically forces his way inside his bed as you start protesting. "You thought you'd have my bed to yourself?"
"I can't believe we have to deal with this again."
"We don't," he says simply, annoyingly cuddling to one of the pillows. "Just shut up."
"I'm gonna tell your mom and she's gonna whip your ass."
"Do it and I'm gonna whip yours." he says casually and your mouth hangs open, a loud gasp leaving it shortly after.
Disappointed how excited those words made you, you shift on your spot as you try to find the right position. It's not like Jungkook's old bed is too small but you feel like with two people, not mentioning Jungkook's actual body size, it's not big enough.
You're not going to lie. You were kind of expecting him to come. His look back in the kitchen told you everything you had to know. His presence is comforting as always, even in this small ass – not big enough – bed. And you hate how much you enjoy just sleeping next to him. You're the person to move a lot, or more like stretch around in your sleep, so naturally you like your space. But with Jungkook, you don't mind even though he often used to scold you for elbowing him in your sleep or almost pushing him off the bed.
Though, your stubborn self won't let him have the satisfaction of you being speechless. Even though you've been for a moment now.
"You sound confident. You think I'd let you do that?"
"You've let me do it every time." he says right away, sounding pleasant by his answer as you roll your eyes, ready to pinch him in the stomach as he chuckles and cages your wrist with his fingers wrapped around it.
"Stop being so cocky. There is a first time for everything."
"Indeed."
He lowers his tone and you're about to question him, until he suddenly reaches and pinches gently your nipple. But the shock leaves you yelping though, slapping your hand against your mouth.
"What the fuck." you gasp.
"That's what you were about to do, huh?" he asks cockily, "Pinch me, right?"
"So?" you gulp, cupping your breasts with a frown which you're not sure Jungkook can see clearly, but the chuckle makes you think he probably knows about it.
And then he's hovering over you before you can blink, your mind going blank for a good moment when you realize the son of a bitch (no offense to Mrs. Jeon of course, it's just a phrase) is shirtless. You shamelessly want to rank your hands down his chest to his freaking abs because you know they are there. His weird interest in working out at any given chance is paying off for sure.
He doesn't look like a bodybuilder and his muscles aren't massive, he's perfect in all the right places as cliché as it might sound. He's fit and buff, just the thought of what he's usually hiding beneath the layers of his clothing makes you salivate. If you weren't nearly as attracted toward him, you're not sure if you would be able to go all this trouble for a couple of amazing rounds of sex. Amazing is not enough of a strong word.
Jungkook decides not to respond verbally and you have to clasp your mouth shut because he doesn't give you any choice. He latches his moisturized and soft lips on your neck and starts kissing you there, bringing new waves of pleasure and want. Only he can do that with a single touch. Just minutes ago, you were ready to fall asleep. Not anymore.
At the beginning of his never ending kissing and sucking, you think he's just teasing you because he has done a lot. You know he enjoys seeing you struggle and squirm. But you're also stubborn enough and you won't let him show how desperate you can get for him. Not always at least. You can be pretty needy and desperate – shameless. The man is satisfied to see you show your neediness toward him. Even though you're not a stan of women not showing her wants or making the first move, you secretly love when Jungkook takes the first move. You love to see him want you. You love to see him taking control.
But Jungkook doesn't stop.
His hand gets under your shirt, palming your skin there as you gasp into the darkness and silence. He plays with the hem of your panties, smiling in satisfaction at the realization that you're not wearing anything else besides them and the shirt.
"Look at you," Jungkook hums, nose brushing against your jaw as he gently bites you there.
You can't help it, you're already gripping his sides as you dig your nails into them.
"Wearing this at my parents house." he chuckles and hooks a finger behind your panties, just teasingly moving it right to left.
You don't bother to explain that you simply forgot, because you did bring pajama shorts and pants, in case it would be chilly at the house during the night. Who would believe you? Who forgets to put on proper pajama pants instead of panties? Either way, it would just cause more teasing from Jungkook and to be quite honest, you're already on the edge because Jungkook's parents are right down the hall.
Surely, he doesn't want his mom to find out he sneaked out into the room you're staying in. Or maybe not even that but the fact you're actually sleeping with her son and you're not just a casual and usual best friend. God, just thinking about his parents knowing makes you embarrassed. It's different when parents are involved. The Jeons think of you as this polite girl Jungkook is friends with. You are polite, but that's not even enough information about you.
"I might be wearing my panties but you're the one hovering over me." you remind him calmly, keeping your tone confident.
He brings his face closer to yours after your words. It would just take you slightly leaning in his direction to kiss him. And that thought is tempting.
"Don't act like you don't like it." he says confidently, not even thinking that there might be a small percentage of you not liking this. And he is right.
"That's not important," you gulp, "Just what you are about to do, Jungkook?" you ask straight away.
"Whatever you want me to do." he answers cheekily, putting some distance between you as he leans on his hands some more, not touching you this way but that changes.
He lowers down, the sudden chilly air hitting your exposed skin while he hikes up your shirt. He kisses your stomach. It's so soft that it suddenly makes you flinch and giggle, the tickling feeling causing you to scold him by muttering his name. He only chuckles silently, diving back in as he makes sure he puts more pressure with his lips.
You hate how your entire body accommodates to Jungkook's body, making sure both of you are comfortable in this position while he's between your stretched legs. You're so fucking weak when it comes to him, that much has been established a long time ago but still. You should be able to push him away and remind him there should be no funny business when you're at his parents house. But is it really that much of a big deal? The little devil on your shoulder asks.
"You really want to do this here? Out of all places?" you clarify silently, too close to whimpering when he pecks your skin just above your panties hem.
"Let me just make you feel good." he mumbles from between your thighs, your whole body heating up. It's becoming hard to keep your shirt on.
He clasps his hands around your knees and pushes them upward. Understanding what he wants, you bend your knees and in a second, he presses another kiss to your clothed core. This makes you audibly gasp, not expecting him to be so fast. You're aware of having to stay silent and there's still a part of you who wonders if this is the right time to have this kind of fun.
"Hm, what are you saying?" Jungkook mumbles, poking his tongue at your center as you whimper again, leaning yourself on your elbows as you glare at Jungkook. Not that he can see much but the sudden movement from you causes him to look up.
"You're gonna get us caught."
"Me?" he asks cluelessly, "You're the one making sounds." he adds cheekily and you almost fume, ready to argue.
"You're the one making me make them!" you exclaim in a hushed whisper-scream, causing him to laugh a little.
Chuckling, you feel him lifting his head while the warmth of his body makes your skin rise with goosebumps. You can't see his face clearly but you two would burst into laughter if you could see each other's faces. The want to laugh disappears in seconds when Jungkook sneakily finds his way between your thighs. The moment the pads of his fingers make contact with your clothed heat, you clear your throat shakily to mask the moans that want to rip out of your throat.
The single touch is enough to make you a mess. He traces your underwear with his fingers, the touch soft and teasing, before he starts rubbing you.
"Tell me to stop." he offers simply.
A silent scoff makes it out of your mouth as soon as he says it.
"Isn't it too late?" you ask, hinting at the wet mess between your thighs.
Jungkook chuckles though, pressing his fingers harder which makes you gasp. "It's never too late to stop."
This teasing shit... 
You swear, if he wasn't doing such a great job at delivering pleasure, you would smack the life out of him. You hate when people tease you in the most annoying way but Jungkook is on another level. The man knows you like no one else and he uses it to his advantage. Still, you find yourself salivating at your current position and his hand on your clothed heat.
"Did you bring condoms?"
You ignore the satisfied and deep chuckle that vibrates in his chest, pursing your lips in the darkness.
"Fuck, I didn't." Jungkook whines a little.
As disappointed as you are, you try to mask it by giving his naked back a few slow taps. "No sex then tonight, mister."
Jungkook rolls his eyes and cockily like always, pushes your panties to the side as he teases your entrance with his digit. You gasp, clasping your hands around his biceps.
"There are other ways, y'know."
"I know." you whisper, hating how weak you always get when something like this happens.
The pleasure shoots straight through you and you can no longer think, wanting to chase the pleasure instead. This always happens with him and it's a huge problem. Only because of how dangerous it is.
"Mhm, you do?" he hums, "Besides, we've got some new things to try as far as I can remember."
His tone is suggestive, a layer of implication which makes you almost choke on your unexpected spit because... is he talking about what you think he is?
As if Jungkook could tell the look of shock on your face, he chuckles deeply.
"Soon." Is all he says, enough to make you shiver.
"You–wait, you mean like–"
"Shhh, you're gonna get us caught." he hums teasingly, hinting at your previous words and you want to groan in frustration.
He's playing with you. He's lucky you have to be quiet or else you wouldn't get him off the hook so easily.
And then he goes back between your thighs, giving you a few teasing rubs with just two of his fingers. He manages to get out of you a silenced whimper that you couldn't swallow down.
"Behave." he says playfully, a little groan escaping your mouth before he retrieves his fingers.
You prop on your elbows as soon as he plops next to you, lying on his back while you stare confusingly. You're about to question his intentions, very much hoping this is not some sort of teasing or punishment, but you're stopped by the rustling sounds of him getting out of his boxers. He's lucky.
"Take off your shirt, wanna feel you."
Oh, no problem for you.
You pull the shirt over your head, your panties following right after as you sit back on your knees, staring at Jungkook with big curious eyes. You see the faintest glimpse of his naked form, kind of bummed out that you don't see him clearly. But your imagination does wonders, finding the scene in front of you hot. Both of you. Naked. In the darkness. It has its own spark, doesn't it?
"Come on, get on my lap." he spurs you, making himself comfortably between the sheets.
You stay frozen and confused, not really understanding what he is trying to do. But you trust him. He has to have some kind of plan.
You get on his lap, still balancing yourself on your knees as you allow yourself to feel up his abs and chest. He is warm and soft, something you've known but always feels nice to have his skin under your curious hands.
Jungkook pulls you in, catching you by your hips while his mouth clashes with yours. You hold yourself back from moaning, his tongue already touching your bottom lip before he shoves his tongue into your mouth in a heated kiss. It's consuming and hungry, yet sweet and you return every bit of it.
Jungkook's hard length pokes you in your belly button, wanting some attention and you would happily give it to it. You feel Jungkook taking his cock into his fist, giving himself a few pumps while his knuckles brush against your stomach. He's driving you crazy.
Bodies heating up, Jungkook orders you to sit on his thighs and you do. Is he making you ride his thighs?
And then he pulls you down onto him, your body moving forward while your bare cunt makes contact with his balls. You whimper into his mouth, your entire body shuddering at the contact.
"Sit down on it. Don't put it inside though." he encourages you, your eyes widening while you're trying to process his request.
You let out a shuddered breath, sitting upward as you carefully sit down onto his length. It keeps lying on his stomach, reaching his belly button while you carefully place your bare cunt at the base.
"Fuck."
You both curse at the same time, your hands crashing Jungkook's shoulders while you literally tremble.
Your wetness starts spreading over Jungkook's length, the bareness causing both of you to breathe heavily as if you were in the midst of this act. However you're only at the beginning.
Jungkook's hands made contact with your ass cheeks, hands gripping your ass a little before he's pushing you up his length. You rub against him, whimpering as Jungkook quickly chases your mouth to swallow down any sounds coming from you. Following his hands while they guide for the right movement, you're trying too hard not to come already. Fuck. Who would've said this could feel so good?
You actually feel him bare, the difference is that you don't feel him inside of you but that thought doesn't even cross your mind. You can't grasp the fact that you feel him, really feel him. The hard and warm skin. Even the prominent vein. His thick length separates your folds, clit brushing over every part of his cock.
As the pace grows and gets more stable, you're sliding along his cock, your wetness making slick sounds that are hard to ignore. Although, you can't miss the sounds the bed starts to make under your moving bodies. It creaks a little, your hips halting.
"It's okay." Jungkook breathes out.
"Won't they wake up?"
"No, just keep this pace. We should be fine."
Who are you to disobey?
You continue, putting a little bit more pressure and fuck... this reminds you of that time when you and Jungkook were having sex and you accidentally brushing against his bare cock. But this time, you actually get to feel it and there is no apology behind it.
Biting your lips harshly, it seems like you're going to break the skin's thin barrier soon if you keep this up. But you can't help it. Chasing the pleasure and Jungkook's hard cock that spreads your folds seems like the only priority right now. You're a mess, whimpering and breathing heavily while you keep digging your nails into poor Jungkook's shoulders. He doesn't hiss, nor makes other sounds that could indicate he's in pain. He must be enjoying this just as much as you do.
"You like that?" Jungkook asks silently and raspily. "Hm? You like feeling my cock?"
You both know there's not much freedom and time when it comes to words, but he just couldn't help himself.
He feels you getting tired, skin burning up while the mess between your thighs leaks down his length and balls. He knows you're close and fuck, you really are because a few seconds later and your whole body shudders, finally letting go off the knot in your lower stomach as it snaps and allows you to feel the real and much intense pleasure. You both cum at the same time, the familiar knot doing the same to Jungkook as the ribbons of white paints his stomach and chest. He bites his lips to hold back a groan, throwing his head back while his hands loosen on your hips.
You both breathe heavily, your thighs and legs aching while you take a moment to calm down.
"Have you ever done this before?" you ask, voice breathy as you slowly lift yourself up. God, you both made such a mess.
Jungkook sits down, scrunching his nose at his cum all over his stomach and chest. "No."
"You haven't?" you ask surprisingly, whispering as you stand up and reach for the napkins on the nightstand.
"Why do you sound so surprised?" he chuckles, "I never had to find a way around raw sex before."
That makes sense...
"Did you like it?" you ask, handing him the napkins before he thanks you and starts cleaning himself while you do the same.
Jungkook snorts in response and you frown in confusion. "Would I cum if I didn't like it?"
"Touché." you mutter and he laughs silently.
He stands up, grabbing the wet and messy napkins from your hands. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple which you find oddly comforting and surprising at the same time.
You look at him in the darkness, but you can't really see his features. "I will take care of this." he says and holds the napkin in the air for a second.
You realize he must've put his boxers on while you were cleaning yourself as you watch him retrieve his way out of the room. You take the time to dress up, nervously making your way to the bathroom right after to properly clean the mess between your thighs and empty your suddenly full bladder. You could really use a shower but there's no way you could do that without waking everyone up. You can't risk it.
So you go back to the bed once you're done, smelling Jungkook on the sheets while the scent is more intense than it was yesterday.
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Last night feels like a dream, at least for a moment after you open your eyes to be met with sunshine peeking through the curtains. Bed all for you, you find yourself touching the space between you to be met with cold sheets. Jungkook must've stayed in the living room which is for the better anyway.
The memories of last night make your lips stretch automatically. You can't believe you did that! It feels like a major thing that has happened. In reality, it might not be a big deal and there's no reason to go crazy over it, but you can't help but feel excited because you tried something new and you freaking loved it. Everything about it.
The whole thing was so hot. From having to stay silent to having one of the best orgasms and feeling Jungkook like that. You've also never done that before with anyone else, so it's ten times more exciting and new. But now that it's morning and you should go downstairs to join the rest of the family, you suddenly feel... nervous you would say. There's a lot of what if's but you don't beat yourself over it. You just hope they slept well during the night.
As usual, you're the last one to come downstairs and join the others, finding them all perfectly synchronized with each other. The sight of them as a family preparing breakfast looks pretty casual, just like you usually see in the movies, but it's endearing nonetheless. They're all working together to prepare the breakfast. Mrs. Jeon cutting some more fruit while Mr. Jeon sets the table and Jungkook... still wearing his – what should be considered as – pajamas (even though you know that's not really what he wears to bed), is helping his father as he brings more bowls and plates to the table.
"Ah, good morning! Hope you slept well!" Mrs. Jeon notices you when she hands Jungkook the bowl of – oh my god, are those fresh strawberries? 
You greet all of them, smiling sheepishly as you offer to help but Mrs. Jeon tells you to sit down.
"I did, thank you," you smile, rubbing the back of your neck. "I'm sorry for sleeping till now. Hope I didn't wake up too late."
Mr. Jeon smiles at you which puts you a little more at ease while his wife just laughs humorously. "Oh, please, dear. Nonsense! We're happy that you slept so well. Sleep however long you want." she tells you politely and sweetly which makes you mentally coo at her sweetness.
You do not tell her that her son is the cause of your late awakening – he did a number on you.
You don't sit though and while Mr. Jeon disappears somewhere in the living room, Mrs. Jeon calls out to him to ask him something and soon, she joins him as well. You start helping Jungkook with dirty knives and cut boards, placing them into the sink. Aware of his eyes on you, you can't hide the little grin which finally makes him crack as a deep chuckle resounds beside you.
"Slept well?" he asks, standing behind you as he puts clean and dry forks back into the drawer cabinet.
"Cocky since morning?" you offer teasingly, suddenly feeling soft lips touching your neck while his hands squeeze your hips.
"Jungkook!" you scold him silently, trying to glance behind him in panic.
He cackles, pulling away. Once you truly look at him, you notice his eyes and face being still a little swollen as he looks sleepy. Besides looking cute, you find him hot with his shit eating grin he offers you and the slight cockiness hidden behind it doesn't go unnoticed too.
He leans against the kitchen counter, facing you with his arms crossed over his chest. You see the glint in his eyes that tells you to prepare yourself for whatever he's about to say. And your intuition proves to be right.
"Should I buy condoms today?" he asks, leaning even closer to you as his voice remains subtle and low.
You almost choke, "I can't believe you!" you laugh, punching him in his bicep teasingly as he laughs before straightening himself.
And then he wiggles his eyebrows at you, still grinning from ear to ear. "That wasn't no." he points out and you start laughing even more.
The approaching voices of his parents break the moment, both of you silently grinning to yourselves as Mrs. Jeon informs you of today's plan, beaming with happiness of finally having her younger son home again.
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You can't remember when was the last time you attended a similar family gathering with your own family. Sure, living far away from them has complicated it and made it practically impossible for you to experience these things. You can't say you miss it too much. Family gatherings often equals family drama, which you're happy you're away from.
Of course, you do miss your family but you wouldn't change anything about deciding to leave your home country.
Your friends have definitely helped in the aspect of missing home, or like the familiarity of one. Everything would feel lonelier if you didn't have them and you often think about it.
You can tell how happy Jungkook's parents are to be hosting a little barbeque party. With Jungwon and his family coming soon, you're assigned to help Mrs. Jeon in the kitchen. She has a radio playing in the background, humming a soft tune to herself as she engages you in a casual conversation. She's marinating meat, a few packs of pork belly to Jungkook's loud wishes already sitting on the kitchen counter while Jungkook is with his father, trying to set the grill.
In the background, through the terrace door, you can see how serious they're being about their job and it makes you smile in amusement.
Mrs. Jeon takes this time to interrogate you about her son, which you find highly amusing as well. Is he sleeping well? Does he eat well?
"I know he's working out like crazy. He tends to get very serious about it, so I'm worried."
You giggle a little, not meaning to come out as rude but Mrs. Jeon simply glances at you with worried eyes.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Jeon. He does have a diet from time to time, but he can't live without this." you assure her, picking one of the packs of sliced pork belly as she looks at the item in your hand before her shoulders relax and she lets out a laugh.
"I know he's an adult, has been for quite some time," she says with a slight laugh, "But I can't help but be worried. He's not living in Busan and I know he's doing great–"
"Mrs. Jeon," you tell her softly with the same soft smile, "You're his mom. Of course you're worried. And it doesn't matter how old he is. Jungkook is happy to have you as his mom."
Mrs. Jeon smiles at you with so much fondness that it makes your heart warm. "You have to miss your parents too. I can't imagine if Jungkook lived in another country, it must've been tough for you and them."
She turns back to cutting the vegetable while you prepare a lemonade, squeezing lemons. "The beginning was," you admit.
You're a definition of a homesick person. You don't like changes and you don't deal well with being away from people close to you.
But you knew moving to Seoul is something you dreamed about for a long time. It was the biggest step you had to take in your life so far and you don't regret it. It's cheesy to say this, but everything comes with price. And your price is not seeing them as often as you would if you still lived back at home.
"But I'm happy here. And I've got amazing friends and people around me, that makes it a ton easier." you tell her while you share another smile.
"That's funny," she says after a moment, realizing something. "Jungkook told me something very similar when he first moved out."
"Really?" you laugh.
"Yes," she giggles, finishing preparing the meat. "He's very independent. Has been since he was little. Jungwon not so much, of course he's successful and independent now too. But we're always butting in whenever he needs help, whether it's babysitting our sweet Haru or something else. We just always remind him we are here, you know? Me and my husband enjoy our kids needing us. But with Jungkook.... He seems to do a lot of stuff on his own which isn't a bad thing. I'm proud of him. But sometimes that makes me worried, right?"
Your features soften as you throw the squeezed lemons into the bin. You wash your hands and almost pout when you see Mrs. Jeon warm gaze. She's full of love for her sons, it makes you emotional all over again.
Jungkook really is lucky to have her as his mother.
"That he must be going through some stuff alone. He would never burden us with his own burdens and that is the worst for a parent. When you don't know what he's going through,"
You gulp, trying to look casual. Especially when you know far more than his own mother, it does make you feel a little guilty.
"Anyways," she shakes her head as if not wanting to think about such thoughts. "He seems to be content... happy. I'm just overly worried about him."
You feel so bad for her. She has her doubts, it's like she knows he must've been through something. But you know Jungkook hasn't told her. Jungkook often told you his mother tends to get worried a lot, that's how she shows her love and god, she's a mother. Of course she is worried about her kids – no matter the age. It might seem like she's overreacting but that's not it. She loves them deeply.
"I can't talk for Jungkook," you start slowly, "But he's doing great. Don't worry. Me, Jimin and Taehyung look after him. We all do that with each other." you assure her, trying to make your voice come out light and happy.
That seems to make her relax and she lets out a humorous giggle as she shakes her head at herself. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I get so emotional sometimes."
"We women do that a lot." you joke and she joins with a laugh.
"Seems like they figured it out," she says, looking across your shoulder as you follow her gaze.
Jungkook and his dad look proud as they high-five, both laughing right after.
"We have a little time before Jungwon arrives with Haru and Sona. It's too soon to grill. Do you want to see some baby photos of Jungkook?"
One thing you love to do is look at old pictures. And baby Jungkook pictures? That sounds great.
"Sure." you smile, knowing Jungkook doesn't like to look at his old pictures.
"Oh my god!" you exclaim with a hand covering your mouth as soon as Mrs. Jeon pulls out a brown box, a worn-out album with the name 'Jungkookie' written on it, and opens it to show you the first pictures of newborn Jungkook.
She smiles widely at the pictures, probably has seen them million times before as she hands you the album for you to browse through it. In the meantime, she picks up another, smaller album while she flips through the pages.
"He was so cute," you comment, smiling at baby Jungkook who seems to be older in this picture, sitting in his toddler chair with a banana in his hand. "I can't believe he never wants us to see these pictures."
One time, you don't even remember who started it, but someone posted a baby picture in your friends group and that's how the train of sharing baby pictures happened. Jungkook was the only one who wouldn't want to post any pictures, whining how stupid that is. Really, you don't understand why because he was the cutest baby.
"He can be annoying at times." His mother waves you off and a snort leaves your mouth.
Your browsing is soon interrupted by the sound of the door opening, almost every picture causing you to let out a soft 'Aw', but you don't really give it much attention.
"What are you guys doing?"
Jungkook asks as soon as he finds you in the living room, taking a look at the both of you until realization hits him and he immediately starts whining with a pout.
"Mom!"
And there is the frown.
"What?" His mother shrugs, pushing another and a single picture of what seems like eight year old Jungkook your way.
Gasping, you completely ignore Jungkook while he plops on the spot next to you and groans loudly when he sees the photo.
"Oh my god, look at you!"
You know your reaction, a fit of giggles, isn't up to his liking because he clicks his tongue and looks uninterested at the photo in your hands. Jungkook looks like an emo kid, surely the haircut's fault and you coo at the most evident feature on his face.
"Look at your nose!" you coo, Jungkook throwing his arm behind you onto the backrest as he rolls his eyes. You start giggling all over again, hand pressing against his cheek as you bring him closer to your face.
Jungkook tongues his cheek while you give him a teasing smile. "This is embarrassing, put it away."
You and his mother share a look, while Mr. Jeon comes in and out as he starts preparing the food outside.
"You were cute, don't be like this." you nudge him in the shoulder as he rolls his eyes again at you.
"Yeah, my big nose and acne were really cute."
"Hey now." you scold him.
"You were the cutest baby and the most beautiful boy." His mother scolds him too, actually sounding offended by Jungkook's perception of his younger self.
"You're my mom, of course you would say that."
"And I agree," you butt in, "And I'm not your mom."
"You certainly aren't." he mutters while you narrow your eyes at him.
"Come on. You've seen my childhood photos. I was a chubby baby."
"And so was I." he scoffs before pursing his lips. Most babies are chubby to be honest.
"I had the most awful haircut, not even this," You hold the picture in the air to show it off again, "is that bad."
"Get that photo out of my face." Jungkook says with a frown and you snort again.
"We all have embarrassing pictures, Kook. Come on, you saw the photo where my head was extra large."
"Toddlers have bigger heads, Y/N." Jungkook reminds you.
Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips. "Well, mine was even bigger."
"You were cute. What are you saying?" Jungkook shakes his head. "Mom, do you always have to show my baby photos to everyone?" he whines now like a little baby as Mrs. Jeon waves him off.
You bite back a laugh as Jungkook huffs, annoyed.
The doorbell rings, interrupting Jungkook's annoyance and Mrs. Jeon ignores it, as she informs excitedly it has to be Jungwon with the rest of his family. She stands up, placing the other albums back into the box as she leaves to get to the front door.
You glance at Jungkook, finding him sulking which makes you giggle. Poking him in the cheek, you place the photo back into the box.
"You really were the cutest baby." you tell him and he hums, staring at his nails instead as you roll your eyes and kick him in the shin.
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying," you laugh as you already hear Haru's excited little voice while she greets her grandmother. "Why would I lie? You were so cute, even with your big nose. I love it."
"You're annoying." Jungkook comments, narrowing his eyes at you once again as you try not to burst into laughter.
"And you were the cutest."
"Yeah?" he asks, his lips curling as he starts playing with the ends of your hair.
"Yeah," you shrug, almost shivering when the pads of his fingers touch the back of your neck. "I should probably look at this later."
"Like the hell you will," Jungkook clicks his tongue, "I will burn them before you can take another glance."
"Don't be so rude." you tease him, inching closer to him as he searches your face before his eyes drop to your lips.
"And if I want to be?" He arches his brow.
"You little–"
"Kookie!" Haru's cheerful and rushed tiny footsteps resound around the house, the sound approaching the two of you.
Jungkook gives you a little smirk one last time before he hoists up to his feet, already crouching down to welcome Haru's big hug and fit of excited giggles.
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The sun is warming up your skin as a nice breeze winds through your hair. Mr. Jeon is grilling the meat, the delicious smell of barbeque filling the air along with Mrs. Jeon's blooming flowers. It reminds you of all those times where you used to have barbeque parties when you were a little kid. It brings you a nostalgic feeling but it doesn't make you sad at all. You're enjoying your time here to the fullest.
After Mrs. Jeon has proudly shown you her garden, her and Sona have started helping to Mr. Jeon and chat with him for a while. Jungkook is too busy fooling around with Haru, laying on the grass as he plays on an airplane with her laying on shins with outstretched arms and legs. Her giggles fill up the garden and it's easy to smile at the cute sound.
"Having fun?"
Jungwon joins you on the garden swing that you've been sitting on for a few minutes, enjoying the sun and lemonade in your hand. You tried to help but Mrs. Jeon shooed you away, telling you that you're their guest and you already helped enough. Knowing there's no point in arguing with her, you decided to just let everything sink in as you enjoy Busan's air.
"Doesn't it look like it?" you smile, his lips stretching to a smile as he laughs.
"Just asking," he shrugs, a can of beer in his hand as he takes a sip. "My family can be too much sometimes."
You look at him with raised brow, showing you your disbelief. "You haven't met mine."
He gives you both an amused and questionable look which makes you shrug.
"There's always drama." you explain with a laugh.
He snorts, "Isn't there always a drama in every family?"
"I guess," you nod, "But mine's on another level." you joke, making him laugh again.
You're trying not to stare too much, obviously knowing about his good looks. He looks good just like you remember. Although you're not some crazy woman who has a crush on him, you have to admit, Jungkook was right when he called you out on your previous crush. Well, it was never that serious as he made it look like. Jungwon holds a certain energy and is charismatic. And he smells nice which is always a big plus in your book.
You could say he got dressed up nicely, even though he's wearing a casual white shirt and shorts. Good looks definitely run in the family.
You two know each other, you could say you're friendly but you never really had any serious conversations with him. Actually, you're surprised he came up to talk to you, even though it shouldn't be such a surprise. He's probably acting nice because he saw you sitting here alone. Which you both appreciate and find a little uncomfortable. You hate when people pity you for any reason.
"How's Jungkook doing?" he asks after a beat of silence, meeting your surprised look as you can't help but blink a few times at him.
"Um, good?" you ask unsurely, "Why don't you ask him? He's right there."
Jungwon snorts, glancing away while his eyes scrunch because of the wide smile. "I do ask him but Jungkook tends to get private. I know you two are close, so you have to know more than we do."
You try to remain calm, not trying to overthink his words because there's no way he knows anything about you and Jungkook. Other than you're his best friend. Jungkook wouldn't tell him that, right? But as you force yourself to look into Jungwon's calm and warm eyes, you don't find anything shady or worth being cautious about.
"He's doing good," you answer, "I talked to your mom about it today. She's worried about him." you chuckle at the memory of their mom and her distressed face. She is cute.
"Ah, yeah. She is worried about everyone," he laughs and then leans closer to you as he whispers; "She's going a little overboard sometimes."
You giggle, glancing at your hand sitting on your lap as you play with the button of your long purple dress.
"I," he starts slowly, glancing at Jungkook as he plays with his daughter, a soft smile spreading on his lips while they still fool around. "I know he must've been through something. I mean, he broke up with his girlfriend. That shit hurts no matter what. He's not gonna fool me with 'I'm fine hyung', you know." he says while trying to imitate Jungkook's voice which makes you crack a grin.
"Jungwon, I'm not sure if I'm the right person to talk to you about this." you tell him unsurely, his eyes searching yours for a while before he gives you another smile.
"I don't mean to pry. If Jungkook wants to tell us, he knows he can. Whenever he wants to. I just know there must be something more to it since they were back together. They seemed happy, he seemed to be happy."
"Does he not look happy now?" you question, tilting your head in Jungkook's direction while his laugh reaches your ears. He's chasing after Haru who keeps giggling so hard that she almost stumbles. Jungkook scolds her and so does her mom, but Haru is having too much fun to even listen to them.
"No, I know he is. But you know... when it happened, he kind of distanced from us. I know it happened a while ago but he never said anything about it. I understand it must be a touchy topic to him. We all thought she's the one, I mean... he was so whipped for her. We could've genuinely seen them, you know..." he trails off, motioning with his hands.
"Yeah, yeah..." you murmur, trying not to roll your eyes at the topic of her.
It's not Jungwon's fault. He doesn't know the rest of it. He genuinely shares his perception as Jungkook's brother and what he knows.
"So it's weird they suddenly broke up the second time. Sometimes people are not meant to be together, I get it... but Jungkook acted weird, so we all were a little worried about him. Like I said, I don't want you to tell him or share something he wouldn't want to... I don't know, I guess I just needed someone to assure me my little brother is doing fine. Other than Jungkook himself."
Your features soften and you offer him an understanding nod. You squeeze his shoulder, wondering if you're not crossing any boundaries but he looks like he has needed it because he offers you another smile.
"He is much better now. Like you said, every heartbreak hurts. He distanced from us too for a while but we wouldn't let him get too far," you laugh heartily at the memories of you and your friends trying to get him to get his shit together. "I would say he's pretty much happy now."
"Good," he nods, "I'm glad he has friends like you. He doesn't share his struggles, never really has so that's why I was wondering. But I'm glad to know he's doing fine."
"He is, don't worry." you assure him and he smiles in gratitude.
"Yah, don't you have a wife to entertain?" Jungkook asks in a distance, the front of his hair almost falling into his eyes as he breathes heavily thanks to the chasing session he had with his niece. He's walking towards you and Jungwon, tossing him Haru's soft ball.
Jungwon snorts and catches it at the last minute, "Just catching up, Kook. I'm a married man, I wouldn't be flirting."
"Yah, who said anything about flirting?" Jungkook says, using his Busan accent as you hide your grin behind the rim of your glass. Slowly sipping on your lemonade, Jungwon gives him a look of disbelief.
The older brother stands up and pats Jungkook on the shoulder. "She is all yours, brother."
He walks away, Jungkook frowning at Jungwon's back before he sighs and joins you on the swing.
"What did he want?"
You snicker, "Just asked about you."
"About me?" he points at himself in confusion.
"Yeah, they're worried about you. Apparently you distanced yourself from them." you tell him carefully while his brows pinch together.
"I mean... I tried to fix that."
"I know, Kook," you assure him, "I think they know there's something you're not telling them. But they didn't want me to tell them or anything. They just wanted to know if you're okay and happy."
"That's annoying." he mutters as you laugh.
"Stop it!" you scold him with a laugh, nudging him in his shoulder as he offers you a grin. "They love you and care about you."
"I know, I know," he assures you, "I'm glad they gave me space and didn't question me about it. Maybe I should talk to mom."
"Only if you want to." you remind him and he glances at you. He smiles and nods in appreciation.
You sit there in silence for a moment, Haru wanting her dad's attention now as he tugs on his shorts while he's in the middle of conversation with her grandfather. Soon your own attention is directed to Jungkook, admiring the tattooed skin he's showing off today. You wonder if he's planning to get more.
His mother almost jumped out of her skin in surprise when she first spotted Jungkook wearing a short-sleeved shirt.
"Jungkook! How many of those have you got?!" She exclaimed once he shrugged off his sweatshirt.
"Don't look at me like that." Jungkook warns you, eyes already locked on you as you bring the glass closer to your lips.
"Why not?" you ask before you take a proud sip of the lemonade.
"Or I will drag you upstairs and fuck you properly this time."
The moment he says that, you're sure the lemonade goes through your nose as well as you start coughing. The rest of the family members turn in your direction and send you both worried and confused looks, as Jungkook shows them a thumbs-up with a bunny grin.
You pat your lips a little as you glare at Jungkook. He's lucky you're too far for them to hear. But most importantly, why the hell would he tell you something like that in the middle of a family barbecue party? It's not like you can act up on your actions right now. He's purely and purposely torturing you, living for catching you off guard once again. And judging by his proud and cocky face, he's happy about your reaction.
You straighten yourself, drinking the rest of the lemonade as you place the glass down onto the soft grass.
"You don't have condoms." you inform him, silently of course.
Jungkook snorts, "Who says we need them?"
Once again, he catches you off guard for the second time in a span of two minutes, and you clear your throat.
"You want it raw anyway."
You gasp, slapping his arm repeatedly as he cackles.
"Oh my god, look at your face!" he laughs, trying to catch your furious hands. "You really want it that bad, huh?"
"Shut up, you idiot." you sneer at him, pouting a little as he coos at you. Idiot. "I don't want it anymore. Not with you."
You sulk, crossing your arms over your chest as Jungkook reaches for your chin with his stupidly trying-to-act-cute act. You slap his hand away with a frown.
"You look beautiful today. Did I tell you?"
Fuck off.
"No, you didn't." you snap.
"I'm sorry," he whines, rubbing his head against your shoulder like a little cat. "I want it too, okay?"
"What?"
He leans closer, too close for him to be acting like this in front of his family but luckily, they seem to be too busy chatting with each other. Plus, they're turned to you with their backs.
"I'm gonna fuck you raw soon, baby. But it's not gonna be at my parents house. I wanna hear you when I do it."
He wants what–
You gulp, trying to act nonchalant as you scoff and shrug. He is serious, you know it judging by the look in his eyes but you can't stare for too long because you're going to crack.
"This is very inappropriate, Jungkook." you remind him.
"So were you rubbing your pussy against my cock not that long ago." he says with a low and silent tone.
You gasp, "That was your idea!"
"And you loved it," he points out, "Don't worry, I did too. Made me want to really feel you even more."
"Alright, I'm leaving." you tell him, standing up abruptly to hide your burning cheeks.
Jungkook cockily rests his arm over the edge of the swing, man spreads himself there like the finest piece of meal. Well, he is. But you would never give him the satisfaction to admit it at this moment. You take the empty glass off the grass, shooting a look at Jungkook.
"Don't look at me like that baby."
You roll your eyes, "Fuck off." you tell him silently so again, only he can hear.
He smiles tightly, suddenly leaning with his elbows against his knees. "You're lucky they're watching." he tells you, causing your breath to hitch as you quickly turn around.
He's right. You turn around and see everyone watching your interaction. Though, they remain unbothered as Mrs. Jeon gives you the honor to take the first portion of the meal.
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The sun is settling down when Jungkook approaches you. You're inside, in the kitchen precisely, after Jungkook's mother said something about needing more ice. You offered before she could complain.
You've been chatting with Sona for an hour which ultimately got you to know her better a little bit. She's older than you, not by much and it's not like it's a problem, but you have a little respect and you're not usually the first one who approaches someone first. She's been nothing but friendly to you, even when you first met her and you know she's a nice woman and a wonderful mother judging from how she interacts with her daughter. Jungkook's and Jungwon's parents seem to adore her, and they all have a very close relationship.
What you mean to say – is that it felt nice to be able to properly talk to her and get to know her more, and not from Jungkook's words.
Which reminds you...
"Are you mad at me?"
You flinch as soon as Jungkook places his big hands on your hips, nose nudging you in your hair as he's practically glued on your back with his chest. Your body wants to give in right away, lean back onto his masculine body and make yourself sink into it comfortably.
Jungkook's got it wrong though.
You're not mad at him. Annoyed? You were but you're not really.
"Jungkook, somebody's gonna see." you murmur, scolding him with a hushed tone as you keep removing the ice cubes from the silicone mold into a glass bowl.
"Let them see." he says carelessly, causing you to leave the ice for now as you turn around with a scowl.
"Are you being serious right now?"
You're met with his eyes already on you, no sign of teasing or the usual cockiness. "I'm trying to talk to you. I don't care who's going to see at the moment."
"You're being careless." you inform him of his stupidity, though he remains unbothered while he offers you a single shrug.
"Are you mad at me?"
You roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling at the seriousness he's holding. He does seem worried and it's not like that's laughable, but you tend to laugh or smile at the most inconvenient times. Even if sometimes you are mad and yet, you still crack for some reason – even if you don't feel like laughing or smiling.
"I was just teasing you. Fuck," he sighs, "I didn't want to make you embarrassed or make fun of you–"
"Kook," you interrupt him, suddenly feeling awkward and embarrassed. "I'm not mad. You annoy the shit out of me sometimes but–you know I kinda feel awkward about that specific topic."
He frowns, "But there's nothing to feel awkward about. I told you–"
"Yes, I know," You lift your palm up to stop him. "It's a me problem. But I'm fine, really." you chuckle at the end, his posture relaxing slightly.
He lets his eyes wander on your face for a moment, searching for any hint of a lie but all he finds are your genuine eyes shining under the kitchen's lights. "But you haven't talked to me ever since we talked about it. So I thought..." he trails off, suddenly looking embarrassed as you laugh.
"Sona was talking to me and I didn't have the time to spend some time with you. Besides, you were having fun with your brother and parents."
"You're right," He scratches the back of his neck, "I'm an idiot, I don't know why I thought you're mad, I just wanted to make sure."
You giggle, "You're attentive, Kook. Thanks for that. But stop teasing me you little shit." you tell him sternly, poking him in his abs as he chuckles amusingly at your effort.
"Now that's over... wanna join me?"
You give him a look how quickly he brushes it off, both of you snorting at it before you ask;
"Join you where?"
"Mom doesn't have enough beer, so she asked if I could go grab some for dad and Jungwon. She thought a six pack is going to be enough, apparently not."
"Oh, do I have to come?" you ask, trying to keep your face stoic as Jungkook glares at you and tickles your side.
You laugh, flinching at the ticklish feeling.
"Of course, you have to. You are attached to my hip."
"Hm, I don't remember that being a thing."
"Well, it is now," Jungkook says jokingly, features turning more serious now. "But you don't have to. I'm gonna just stop at the nearest shop, it's like a ten minute drive."
Jungkook gives you a smile and pulls something out of his pocket. It's his car keys, you realize he was most likely on his way but decided to ask you if you want to join. He salutes you and makes his way to the front door, but he barely makes a step as you call out his name.
"Okay, I'm going." you grumble, informing him you're just going to bring the ice outside.
Jungkook's father asks you if you could also buy the mini kids sausages for Haru. The poor little girl looked way more calm and a little bit sleepy. Though, it's not her bedtime or that late, her family members seem to take most of her energy. But not enough clearly, considering she's been asking for the sausages ever since you stepped outside to bring the ice and inform Jungkook's mom you're going with him.
"Got it." you assure Mr. Jeon, the older man crouching down to his granddaughter's level as he assures her he's going to grill her the best sausages. Her exciting voice fills the garden that starts to slip into darkness while Mrs. Jeon and Jungwon work on the lights.
When you see Jungkook waiting for you in the entrance room fully dressed, you don't fail to notice the satisfied smirk he has on his lips as you simply grumble;
"Don't say anything."
He doesn't.
But still delivers a loud slap to your ass as he opens the front door for you. His bubbly laugh resounds behind you causing your lips to twitch before they fully stretch into an amused grin.
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By the time you reach the grocery store, you're too lazy to get out and in the end, Jungkook is forced to grab the items alone. He doesn't look like he minds at all, leaving you his phone as you go through his music library, listening to various songs.
You're barely on the third song when you see him leaving the store, items in his hands and you guess he didn't bother to take any bag. He looks very amused when you blast Candy Shop once he reaches the car, opening the door on the driver's seat.
You turn down the volume just as he tosses something on your lap, the rest of the items end up on the backseats. Looking down, you almost choke when you see a brand new box of condoms. Glancing at him, he barely gives you any attention as he drives out of the parking lot like he didn't just toss condoms into your lap.
"Seriously?" you deadpan, taking the box into your hands as you scan the new package.
One word catches your attention and you tilt the box in Jungkook's direction.
"Intense? What does it do?"
"Suppose to make sex better or something, I don't know." he shrugs effortlessly as you press your lips together.
"Are you planning to have sex in your parents house? I thought we went over this, last night–"
"Who said it has to be at their house?" he questions you, lifting one brow challenge at you as you open your mouth and close it shortly after. What is he initiating?
"What?" you deadpan.
"One word and I'm gonna pull over." he simply offers, the serious and casual tone he sets could make you confuse and actually make you consider if he's talking about sex at all.
But you're paying enough attention – too closely actually – that the rush of excitement this idea brings you is hard to ignore. How can you ignore it? You've never experienced as far as you can remember. No, you would surely remember if you experienced it. You can't lie – you've always wanted to try it and the thought of doing it with Jungkook is disturbingly tempting and exciting.
And as you watch him closely, driving with one hand while the other sits on his lap, his legs spreaded making his lap look even more inviting. The last night was perfect, something you've never tried before and never thought it could feel so good. It could easily even out with a proper sex. However, nothing's better than feeling him inside you and the small box in your hand is like the biggest treasure, reminding you of what could happen.
Jungkook glances at you, brow raised as he catches you biting on your lower lip in thought, his lips slightly twitching. You ignore it, sharing a look with him.
"The ride is ten minutes. You better think fast."
The proposition is already enough tempting and the way he says it, you know you're once again utterly fucked. The tingling between your thighs and how embarrassingly fast you got wet is no joke. It makes your decision faster and simpler.
"Fuck, okay, pull over."
Jungkook chuckles, satisfied with your answer as he takes a random turn. You've no idea where he's taking you, though he seems to be familiar with Busan streets even after all those years of not living here. The spot he finds is between two buildings, leading you to the dead end while you see a tall brick wall. Jungkook turns off the lights and engine, hiding the car in a dark and abandoned spot. You don't know why but everything increases the lust you're already feeling.
"Get in the back."
You don't hesitate to listen to him, though you slide your underwear down your legs before you do that, your slides abandoned on the car's floor. You toss underwear on the seat as soon as you lift your butt, shooting a cheeky smirk to Jungkook who grins. You're not surprised when he delivers a subtle slap to your ass while you're trying to get to the backseat through the console.
Jungkook joins you but he actually gets out of the car and walks to the back. He places the six pack of beer on the floor while tossing the stupid sausages onto the front door. You snicker, both of you laughing as he shuts the door with a soft thud. He doesn't waste any time cupping your face, connecting your lips together in a needy heated kiss.
Though it feels heated, it's not totally rushed and the pace is smooth and comfortable. With your hands on the hem of his sweatpants, he places one last kiss to your lips before he fully sits down and leans his back. Pulling them down to his ankles along with his boxers, you're already on your knees, ready for his sign so you can sit down on his lap.
You lift your long dress to your waist, gripping them in one hand in a messy knot before you toss a leg over his body. You grip his shoulders as he grabs you gently by your waist. His eyes admire your bare pussy for a moment, flickering to your face shortly after.
"You sure you're good to go?" he asks.
If you weren't so wet and eager, your heart would actually quiver at his thoughtfulness. It's a bare minimum and men shouldn't be praised for it, but with Jungkook you can't help but melt.
"I hope so." you joke, looking down to see him stroking his cock.
"No, no, no. No hoping, sit back down. I'm gonna eat you out."
"There's no time," you whine, gripping his shoulder tighter when he tries to gently pull you away.
He sighs, leaning his head back as he looks handsome as ever.
"Come on. Just fuck me so we can go back."
To enforce your want, you grind against his bare cock and fuck, you almost lose it all. The contact is very minimal but it leaves you moaning shamelessly, causing you to deliver a rough kiss to Jungkook's opened mouth. He closes it just in time, welcoming your kiss in a surprised manner.
"Fuck, baby," Jungkook groans, leaning his head back again. "You're making it hard for me not to fuck you senseless."
"Do it," you offer lightly, giggling at the look on his face. "Come on. You fucked me senseless many times before."
"You woman, you amaze me." Jungkook says, smirking at you when you raise your brows at him.
"Me? How?"
He reaches for your cheek and you think he's about to stroke it, at least the gentle look in his eyes indicates that much. However, he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, lifting the right corner of his lips.
"You can get so dirty sometimes."
"And that's what amazes you?" you laugh gently.
"Yes, because one second you're this innocent and shy Y/N and the next you're so blunt, ready to drool all over my cock."
You snort, "Don't get cocky, Jeon. I'm not drooling over your cock." You both know that's not true.
And Jungkook's smile tells you he knows it too.
"Yeah? You sure about that?"
"Mhm."
He reaches for his cock, grabbing it by its base before he slaps his bare tip against your clit. You almost fall like a house of cards, legs completely quivering. Oh god, he loves torturing you. 
He chuckles, deeply and raspily, and you swear if he won't stop, all your rational thoughts will be gone and you'll sit down on his bare cock.
"Wait–what is this?" He suddenly asks, sounding concerned as you open your eyes, not realizing you even closed them as soon as he touched you. And then he swipes his thumb at the corner of your lips. "I think you just drooled."
Your surprise drops as you glare at him, punching him in the shoulder as he laughs devilishly. "Fuck you, I didn't."
"You know, sometimes I want to ruin you. Like really ruin you." he confesses, though he says it with a smile and it's hard to differ whether he's being absolutely serious or he's just joking around.
"What's stopping you?"
"You're not ready." he answers simply and you snort.
"Please," you scoff, "Stop with this dominant shit."
"Huh?" he chuckles, "You're lucky we don't have time for this. Hand me the condom."
"Please." you clarify, crossing your arms over your chest with your bare core still hovering over his hard length.
He rolls his eyes, "Please." he mutters.
With a satisfied grin, you reach for the box of condoms and pull out one. After the silver package is in Jungkook's long fingers, he tears the foil and you watch him putting the latex down his thick and hard cock. You've watched him do that many times before, in fact you almost never miss it but it never gets boring. It adds just the right amount of lust and pleasure to the moment every time. Plus, Jungkook is incredibly hot putting it on so skilfully, with brows pinched in concentration with his jaw set tight.
He motions for you to get closer, sneaking his hand between your thighs as he rubs your bare sex. The slick wetness there is no surprise to him, neither you feel embarrassed at how quickly he can get you wet. He doesn't comment on it, rather pulls you by your waist closer to him. He gets a hold of his cock, slowly easing you down on it while you lower yourself.
As soon as the head stretches your hole, you gasp in delight while Jungkook keeps a concentrated look between your bodies, watching how he slowly disappears inside of you. The turquoise lights in his car just add to the moment, your head soon thrown in the back in full ecstasy as he stretches your wet and tight walls.
Jungkook grunts, leaving you two just sitting there getting accustomed to the feeling.
"Fuck, that feels so good." you moan, your clit pressed against his pubes.
"You alright? Doesn't it hurt?" He still finds himself asking.
You're not entirely stretched, at least you weren't before Jungkook entered you. But the slight burn and tightness just brought more waves of pleasure to your body.
"No, it feels perfect." you answer, chuckling as Jungkook joins you.
It feels awfully good to just sit on his cock, no need to move yet as you would love for the feeling to last longer. But you're reminded of your citation and you don't have exactly the time to prolong this any more than it's necessary. Though Jungkook doesn't seem bothered and gives you all the time in the world to get used to his thickness, you both know what the two of you are doing is irresponsible in more ways than one. But it's about time now and nothing else.
At first, you begin with rolling your hips to get accustomed to the feeling more. With hands still gripping Jungkook's shoulders, the dress seemingly pressed between your bodies, you love how his palms feel on your ass cheeks. He grips the soft flesh, urging you to roll your hips with more pressure as you both take a sharp breath.
When you gradually need to feel more, and you know Jungkook does too based on the way he's trying to control himself, you lean more against Jungkook's form and use his body as a leverage. You start setting a pace as you start bouncing on his cock, Jungkook's head still tilted back against the seat as he watches your expression twist into a pure pleasure. Mouth agape, brows pinched and the sweetest littlest moans escaping your lips – it's his favorite view when it comes to this.
In a way, it could be considered as luck to see you like this. To experience what you look like when he's deep balls inside you and your whole face is twisted in pleasure. He would never have guessed he would see you like this one day. Both of you would never have guessed you would be in this position at any stage of your lives.
Your ass and the back of your thighs meet top of Jungkook's thighs, the sinful sounds of skin slapping skin surround the car's walls.
"Oh, fuck!" you moan, pressing your forehead against Jungkook's.
He's let you have your fun but he needs more. Moving his hands off your ass cheeks, he moves them to your hips as he holds them tightly before he starts pounding into you. The whole moment is so freaking erotic. Even with you being on top, Jungkook is in full control and you can't help yourself, but stop your movements as you fully welcome his thrusts and control. You wish to help him badly but it feels so fucking good. You can't move.
"Jungkook, fuck!"
Jungkook enjoys your whimpers, focusing on his thrusts as his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth.
He feels you tightening around him and almost like with a snap of fingers, your body tenses as the orgasm comes crashing down on you before it fully relaxes. You keep clenching around him, knees digging into the leather seats as Jungkook's thrusts never halt until he snaps his cock forward into you. He cums with a low grunt, filling condom with his seed as he rides himself off the orgasm until he fully relaxes.
You get off his lap with a little help from him, collecting the dress at your stomach so you don't get it messy. Maybe it already is, fuck.
Jungkook breathes heavily, the tip of his hair clinging to his forehead as he rubs it with the back of his hand. He glances at you, chuckling as his throat bobs at the sound and movement.
"Fuck, that was awesome," he breathes out, glowing from the orgasm. "Let me grab you some tissues, they should be in the glove box. At least I hope so."
He's about to sit upward but you press against his chest, gripping his cheek as you confidently kiss him on his soft lips. He's speechless, looking confused and amazed like hell when you pull away.
"What was that for?"
You let go off his cheeks, smiling at the look he's giving you. He looks hot, amazed and cute at the same time. It makes you let out a soft giggle that you almost don't recognize. And then you swipe the corner of his lips.
"You're drooling, Jeon."
He frowns before his face relaxes, realizing what you've done as amused and deep chuckle rumbles out of his mouth.
"Who wouldn't." he responds cheekily, your face completely heating up as your stomach clenches excitedly at his words.
He laughs, satisfied at your reaction. Whatever you do, somehow Jungkook always wins. Even if he's the one complimenting and ruining you at the same time.
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privitivium · 1 month
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i srs need a scenerio where we are so bratty to the point motherly!bf just denies giving us a blowjob and then scolds us..
this has been in the back of my mind for the longest time i finally have my thoughts in order bro GOD. ramble,,, ish.
dom motherly yan w sub brat m reader...
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im imagining reader - darling just crying crocodile tears and writhing on the bed begging for motherly yan to suck you off because you love the way his mouth feels on yr dick but he's purposefully ignoring you in lieu of deleting emails to pass the time because he's CRUEL.!!!!! So.;;;
fidgeting with your phone on the bed, mother at his desk... wanting attention, as you ere onviously infuriatingly horny - watching porn at a low volume that he was sure to hear... and yeah he does. head snapping back at the sound if moans and catching sight of you groping yourself ove your pants... he takes it away, catching a glimpse of what you were on. porn... god, you know how he feels about that. it's like you were delibrately trying to get a rise out of himㅡtouching yourself and watching other people have sex when he was right there? naughty, naughty, naughty... mother shakes his head, grunting in displeasure as he places your phone near his computer; "don't touch yourself. you don't want to know what happens if you do." he demands lowly, a terrifying baritone that makes you faint and blood rush to your face.. tears stinging your eyes. you can't tell if they were fake, the product of being overwhelmed, or just because you were blushing so hard.
writhing on the bed, hands itching to grope your erection through your boxers. tears stinging your eyes and slipping down your cheeks freely - god this was fucking with you even more. your cock, positively fucking aching in pain despite him ignoring you. knowing that he was getting off by this made you even more squirmy... "fuck, mom - please!! please, i'll be good!! j-just fucking touch me.." you sob, overdramatic as you squirm. Hands rubbing over your thighs, so close to your bulge... "maa... mm-mommy." sniffling as you bury your face in the pillows, hugging it to your chest..
he snarls, jaw setting as blood shoots to his cock at the sound of your pathetic, sobbing voice.. "no. quit your whining. be patient. you can manage that, can't you?" he snaps harshly, palming himself; faced away from you at his desk.. and you whine. he was simply resisting the urge to pounce on you just then... the way you called for him, your mommy... made him giddy. laying on your tummy beforehe takes your situation into his own hands. abusing your cock with his huge hand, keeping you in his lap; sitting on his cock, and letitng you sit in your own mess of cum, sweat, and drool before he works up the niceness to bathe you and kiss you sweetly as though he wasn't purposefully overstimulating you til you cried.... mother ftw.
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maaneskin · 13 days
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THE ANATOMY OF LOVING YOU. jack hughes x f!reader, 1.2k
note, repost from old blog also , rewritten. doll face am gna kms
summary, jack loves you a lot — especially when you have a beard made of bubbles
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a soft smile was playing on jacks lips as he watched you, the light of his life, give herself a messy beard made from the bubbles that filled the bathtub. 
“how do i look?”
he grinned, “sexy,” 
you stifled a giggle, throwing him a wink, “what if i made eyebrows as well? would that look good?” you gathered more bubbles and brought them to your face when jack grabbed your hand, halting your movement, “what? you don’t think it would suit me?” 
jack laughed, his hand holding yours, “on no, honey, i think you would look sexy as fuck but it would likely get in your eyes,”
“yeah,” you sighed sadly, removing your hands from his and dipping them back under the water. you began blowing at the bubbles, moving them around the small bathtub, not noticing the way jack was looking at you.
jacks breathing slowed as he watched you play with the bubbles — bubble beard still in place. he felt utterly calm sitting in the small bathtub with you, in your newly bought, first shared, apartment. the small window was open, letting him hear all the people outside going about their day. he could hear the radio standing in the living room playing another overplayed song everyone under the age of 25 hated. he could smell the freshly baked cake that was cooling in the kitchen; the two of you had baked it together before getting in the tub, or rather, you baked it while jack stood behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, placing soft kisses everywhere his lips could reach. he could smell the scented candle standing on the bathroom counter luke had given as a housewarming gift. the flame adding to the ambiance of the moment.
but none of that mattered as he watched you play around with the bubbles, effectively, making more of them until both your upper bodies were covered completely. jack hadn’t noticed he was in a deep daze until you splashed him with water. he gasped overdramatically, loving how your smile grew wide, “now you’ve done it!” he threw himself across the tub and onto you, water and bubbled spilling onto the tiled floor. jacks heart sped up at the familiar sound of your laugh echoing throughout the apartment. he let go of your naked body to cup his hand underwater. 
“j, don’t, don’t do it!” you managed through laughter, eyes on jacks water-filled hands above your head, “jack, it’s gonna spill everywhere-!” the water from his hands spilled down onto your head and the floor, “jack!” you removed the water from your eyes, “that’s gonna take forever to clean,” you whined, a smile still on your face.
“you started it, doll face,” jack grinned brightly, placing a kiss on your forehead, “we should get out of here, the water’s cold,” he reached over to the toilet where you had laid out 2 towels. he grabbed one for himself and got out. you got up after him, standing naked as you reached for the second towel. jack wolf whistled, making you laugh and tell him to shut up.
“you’re hot, baby, i can’t help it,” he smirked, leaning in for a kiss.
you were the first to pull away, eyes closed — kissing him was bliss, “i love you,” you muttered.
“i love you, too, doll face,” jack pressed a kiss to your forehead and another on the side of your head, sighing in content, “let’t get dry, we have a cake to eat,”
“we also have a floor to dry,” 
jack sighed, suddenly feeling the water on his feet, “yeah, i forgot about that,”
after getting dry and changing into comfortable clothes (jack wearing one of your oversized hoodies), you got to soaking up the water with your towels.
jack stared down at you from his place on the toilet, getting lost in thought. god, he loved you. never before in his life had he loved someone the way he loved you. everything you did made him feel something. everyday he went to bed excited to exist with you the next day. the day he met you was ingrained into his mind; your cute concentrated face as you wrote something down, your laptop with cute stickers, your socks with cute cats on them. (your socks were his conversation starter — luckily you thought it was funny). it had been 6 years since then, since you agreed to go on a date with him. your first date to the zoo was one of his favorite days. the way your eyes had sparkled as you held his arm, dragging him around to see the different animals. the way his heart had sped up when you smiled at him after seeing the penguins up close had made it clear you would be special to him. 
“jack,” you threw one of the towels at him, hitting him in the face and getting him out of his daydream. you giggled at his confused face, “help me,”
he slid off the toilet, gently swatting you with the wet towels. when the water was gone, he moved closer to you, pulling you into his arms, “are we eating the cake when we’re done here?” he leaned closer to your neck.
“no, it’s for desert; after dinner,”
“but you’re my desert,” he placed a few kisses on your neck before pulling away. he smiled at the deadpan you wore, though he could see you were flustered. he was more than aware of how much you loved it when he kissed your neck and he always used it to his full advantage. 
you gave him a gentle shove, “stop it,”
“never,” jack leaned back in and blew raspberry kisses on your neck, making you laugh. he couldn't hide his smile at the sound. he loved your laugh — it was his favorite sound (your moans being a close second), and he hoped to hear for the rest of his life. 
he placed a final kiss on your neck before pulling away, “i know we said it like an hour ago, but i love you… like a lot. more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. i wanna spend my entire life with you” he looked into your eyes, “you’re the light of my life and i-” his swallowed the lump in his throat, clearing it after, “i love you,”
you blinked away tears. his declaration had your heart racing. jack was never verbal with his love, but when he was it never failed to make you emotional. your eyes ran over his face. meeting his beautiful, bright eyes. you could tell he was getting more and more nervous as you remained silent. 
“say something,” he pleaded, feeling like he might explode.
you gulped, “i- i love you. i love you, too. you- i-”
jack’s eyes softened and he could tell you were getting overwhelmed. with closed eyes he kissed your forehead, pulling you in for a hug, “i love you, doll face,” he whispered, before falling silent knowing you needed a moment to collect yourself. his hand went up and down you back, placing the occasional kiss to the side of your head, “you okay?”
you nodded, face still pressed against his neck. arms wrapping around his body, returning his hug.
“dinner?” he asked, getting up from the floor before helping you. he kissed your lips, each cheek, and forehead before pulling away. he grabbed your hand and dragged you to the kitchen, just like how you dragged him to see the lions on your very first date.
356 notes · View notes
she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 2 months
Text
Six of Crows characters x Parks and Rec quotes part two (I have so many of these you guys I love them so much)
Nina: You know my code. Hoes before bros. Uteruses before duderuses. Ovaries before brovaries
Matthias: Jogging is the worst. I know it keeps you healthy, but God, at what cost?
Pekka Rollins: it’s a white flag, and you better start waving it
Kaz: THE ONLY THING I WILL BE WAVING IS YOUR DECAPITATED HEAD ON A STICK IN FRONT OF YOUR WEEPING MOTHER
Rollins: … Good Lord
Jesper: One person's annoying is another person's inspiring and heroic
Wylan: I don't want to be overdramatic, but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life
Kaz: I have never taken the high road. But I tell other people to 'cause then there's more room for me on the low road
Inej when she breaks Van Eck’s nose: I believe assault should be legal if the person is a jerk
Kaz: Ugh, I hate talking to people about things
Inej to Pekka at the end of Crooked Kingdom: Yes, I am a hunter and it's you season
Wylan: I totally hear you, but, erm, I also don't like what you're saying. So if you say no, I will start a fire in the bathroom
Kaz to Inej: I guess I kind of hate most things. But I never really seem to hate you
Kaz: I only really listen to, like, German Death Reggae and Halloween sound effects records from the 1950s. And Bette Midler. Obviously
Matthias arriving in the Barrel for the first time: This seems like the kind of place where a Ska band would go to shoot heroin
Nina: I'm gonna get drunk and then I'm gonna order a three-course meal where each course is made of dessert
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zhongliologist · 1 year
Text
Research Hazards | 30 Nights Series
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Pairing: Alhaitham x afab!reader x Kaveh
Genre: SMUT
Content Warning: threesome, double penetration, blowjob, cunnilingus, anal, creampie, trapped
Words: 5.7k
A/N: Happy Holidays! This is my present to y'all who're still here lmao Anyways, this is part of a series that I barely started, so I won't promise I'll post regularly. Consider this an advance ksksksks Also please ignore genshin lore stuff in this fic, i took all the liberties i had so it's not accurate lmaooo
Tagging: @yostresswritinggirl i know you've been waiting for this lmaooo
Warning: THIS IS AN 18+ FIC, SO MINORS OUT THERE, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.
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There are three types of people in the world when faced with a life or death situation.
The first one tends to be a little too overdramatic.
“This can’t be the end! I have so many projects to do, so many masterpieces to make! Al-haitham, you take responsibility for this! If you didn’t insist that we take this route, we could have been out by now!”
The second prefers to be more logical; the problem solver.
“Don’t be so pathetic, Kaveh. How about you use that brain of yours to find a way out instead? Out of us three here, you’re the most knowledgeable with machinery. You should know at least one loophole.”
And the last one is what people would call an “opportunist”.
“Take your flirting somewhere else, you two. I’m in the cusp of an academic breakthrough. This room is like no other! Completely unique from all the ruins attributed to the god of time! So exciting!”
“We are not flirting!” “Your imagination knows no boundaries, YN.”
You shrugged, crouching near an impression on the wall. “Hm. Whatever you say.”
This unique arrangement, or whatever it was, simply formed out of necessity.
As students of the Akademiya, it was required to submit a final research paper before graduating—a cumulative opus of all the learnings and skills one has acquired through their time as a student. You never had any trouble in writing your own paper, but the subject you chose was a behemoth, a wide gap in the tree of knowledge that has yet to be studied thoroughly. Despite your brilliance however, you only had one brain and that was hardly enough to tackle the mystery of the god of time. Besides, you needed the expertise from the other Darshans to make full sense of any discovery, and they probably need your expertise as well—a win-win situation, in your honest opinion.
And that was how you ended up with Al-haitham and Kaveh—geniuses, yes, but probably the most insufferable pair in the entire Akademiya.
“Al-haitham, Kaveh,” you called out as you stood up from your position and walked towards the two with notebook in hand. Al-haitham was standing front of a wall, trying to decipher what was written, while Kaveh was busy studying the walls of the room.
“Have you figured it out?” Al-haitham asked, looking up. He was always the sensible one between the two, but only when it comes to intellectual pursuits.
“No, not yet, but I do need a sounding board,” you replied, standing beside him. “An alternative assessment, if you will.”
“Fine by me. We’ll listen to your ideas first before we share our own thoughts,” Kaveh said as he stood before the both of you.
“So our current predicament is that we’re trapped in this room, which was triggered when we stepped on that platform, causing the walls to cave in on us. If we want to get out, we have to at least understand what had trapped us and why.”
Both men nodded at you. Al-haitham glanced at you, his stare a little too long than normal.
“Makes sense. Go on.”
You cleared your throat to divert your attention to the subject at hand. “Well, here’s the thing. Previous research claim that these ruins are dedicated to the god of time, yet now that I’m here seeing it with my own two eyes, touching it with my two hands, I have to disagree. And I believe the both of you think the same way.”
Kaveh and Al-haitham exchanged glances, yet it was Kaveh who first spoke. “While it is important not to jump into conclusions right away, I do agree with YN. The architectural style, the motifs…they do look similar to Istaroth-attributed ruins yet not quite. The flower motifs on the wall could easily be mistaken as triquetras. If we reexamine previous papers and note our recent findings, a trove of new discoveries is possible.”
Nodding in agreement, you listened to what Kaveh had to say, until you were distracted by how his lips moved. Soft, pink and plump…would it feel as delectable as it appeared to be, you wondered. Wait. This is not what you should be thinking in this situation YN!
“We should be careful here,” Al-haitham interrupted your thoughts. “Refuting previously recognized research is already an endeavor in and of itself. While it is disappointing that these ruins are not related to the ruins of Dahri, we can get enough data here to write an additional paper, alongside our main research subject. With that said, figuring out who this place is for should be the first and foremost priority, for the paper and for our safety as well.”
“I’ve seen you look through the writings on the wall earlier. Did it leave any clues?” you asked, gazing up at him. For some reason you felt hot and uncomfortable all of the sudden. Perhaps it was just the jungle humidity finally getting to you.
“Ah yes. It was also the reason why I had to agree with your assessment. The writings sing of praises for the goddess of flowers, as well as of hopes and wishes for ‘new seed’ to sprout and ‘new buds’ to bloom. It was also in a language which emerged at the same time as scripts from King Deshret’s empire and from ancient Sumeru. If these were ruins attributed to the god of time, Khaenri'ahn script should have been used and there should be no mention of the goddess of flowers.”
“How interesting,” you exclaimed, trying to rid of unnecessary thoughts forming in your head. “What you both have noted all points to the goddess of flowers. I assumed the same case as well. Yet there are no records of buildings dedicated to the goddess, so what makes this one different? What does the writings on the wall allude to? What is this place for? Why are we trapped here?”
“Alright!” Kaveh exclaimed, making you yelp when he suddenly placed his hands on your shoulders. They were heavy and big. “Let’s take a break for a while. I, for one, would like to rest on a comfortable place.”
The ‘comfortable place’ Kaveh was referring to was of course, another invention of his. Both you and Al-haitham watched the blond unfurl his portable chaise lounge with jaded eyes, all too familiar with Kaveh’s tactic of showing off. If he wasn’t a master craftsman and architect, you would’ve deemed him a simple man.
“Of course, the both of you are free to take a seat. Don’t be shy now,” he smirked, and at that point you understood why Al-haitham was ceaselessly cruel to him.
“Al-haitham if you’re not going to punch him sooner or later, I will do it.”
The Haravatat scholar simply shrugged at you; indicating that you should get used to it. “If I were you, just humor him to keep the peace and quiet. The archons know we need some silence to think in this situation.”
“Fine,” you retorted back and marched towards Kaveh. In a huff, you ungracefully plopped yourself on the chaise, surprising even Kaveh himself.
“You’re…” sitting so close to me, was what he wanted to say yet it was suddenly so difficult to get the words out of his throat.
“What is it?” you asked, wondering why Kaveh covered half of his face with his hand all of a sudden.  
“No, I just…” he couldn’t say it. There was no way he could tell you that you smelled so sweet and delectable, enough to remind him of baklavas drizzled with honey. Drizzled with honey…he could lick it off of you—
“What’s gotten into you, Kaveh? You wouldn’t be thinking of anything inappropriate, would you?” you asked in the midst of a laughing fit. You just couldn’t help but giggle at the way his face morphed into an expression of horror.
“O-of course not! I…” he stammered but eventually composed himself. “Don’t you think it’s a bit warm in this room?”
“Well, there are no windows. It could also be the combined body heat of us three,” you shrugged. “I’m more concerned if we’re gonna run out of air before we can get out of here.”
“Oh, about that. There is a draft coming from the gaps on the walls, so there’s no chance of suffocation.”
“Well, at least we have that. But I do agree, it’s been warm for a while now, it’s making my skin stick to my clothes. I should at least remove one layer.”
“What…?”
Kaveh stared at you in panic, wide-eyed and flushed. He was already having inappropriate thoughts of you; your bare skin would do massive damage to his self-control.
“Wait…!” he reached out to you, hand on your arm. You gazed at him curiously, mulling over at the weird mood the both of you were in. If you were a little more honest, you could feel a haze creeping around you and Kaveh. You were just too scared to acknowledge it.
“Oh, come on! I’m just removing a jacket, no big deal!” You shrugged him off, finally getting rid of the stuffy outerwear required of students while on field, and went back to your place beside the blond man.
Kaveh had to train his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at your shoulders and neck. Yet even if his eyes found purchase on a nearby rock, his imagination was betraying him with images of you flushed and ready underneath him, calling out his name in sweet and illicit whispers. There is no way he wouldn’t get hard right now. Get a hold of yourself, Kaveh!
Unbeknownst to the blond beside you, you weren’t in the best of shape either. It took all your mental prowess not to get overwhelmed by lewd thoughts—thoughts which involved the blond and the ash-haired scholar. All the intellectual talk from earlier had you weak and bothered, weirdly turned on from how Al-haitham discussed his thoughts while Kaveh shared his. For some reason, the desire to be pressed between both men was clawing at you. You wanted to feel their bodies against yours, touching and caressing all your sensitive spots until the three of you were one incoherent mess.
“What are you two even doing?”
The sound of Al-haitham’s stern voice brought you back down to Teyvat. You were thankful he was still sane, otherwise you might’ve not been able to come back. Kaveh, on the other hand, was still stubbornly looking at the distant wall.
“YN, scoot over,” Al-haitham ordered. He didn’t wait for you to move however, instead, you were forced to make room for him on the now crowded chaise, making you bump against Kaveh, who was definitely not pleased.
“You could at least wait, you know?” you remarked irately. “It’s already so hot and humid as it is…”
Removing his beret, Al-haitham kept his gaze on the wall in front of him much like Kaveh. “It’s not my fault this chaise lounge could barely fit three people.”
“Do you have a problem with it Al-haitham?” Kaveh interrupted, a lilt of frustration present in his voice which wasn’t there before. “You should be thankful you’re not sitting on the stone floor.”
In your position, the two of them looked rather silly bickering at the walls they were facing, as they avoided getting a glimpse of you and of each other. It wasn’t hard to guess that Al-haitham was feeling the same way both you and Kaveh did, and he was trying his best not to succumb to it.
“Did this room smelled particularly sweet when we went in?” you asked, interrupting the both of them.
“Hm? Oh no, I don’t think so. It was just like any other ruins we previously visited,” Kaveh replied, instinctively looking at you. That proved to be quite a mistake however, as his eyes began to ogle at your bare shoulders, neck and arms. The temptation to touch you was all too real and difficult to resist. Any time now, the tightly-wound thread holding his self-control would eventually snap.
“I’ve noticed it as well…the room does smell faintly of sweet flowers and padisarahs.” Al-haitham added as he glanced down at you, imagining all the things your mouth can do for him. Like slow-moving poison, illicit thoughts were invading his mind, pillaging all that is logical and reasonable until all he could think about is you. You being violated by him and Kaveh; you crying out their names as they fill both your holes; you laying on the chaise stuffed to the brim with their seed.
You watched Al-haitham as his mind wandered. You could tell he was losing his own battles, overcome by intrusive thoughts. If Al-haitham himself had succumbed to these thoughts, then forget about finding a way out. Your minds were too preoccupied to do any analysis at that point. The question now became clear to you—for how long are you three able to maintain self-control? If that wasn’t possible, what will happen to the three of you?
“A conclusion seemed to have crossed your mind, YN.”
It was Al-haitham, who had met your eyes directly. Peridot orbs on yours, you noticed the ferocity of his gaze, as if a fire was smoldering deep within him which he could barely contain. He was at his limit, and you were nearing yours too. You could only withstand so much mental battles, especially not against old leyline energy.
“This was a miscalculation in our part. Who would have thought we’d encounter something like this deep in the forest?” you replied, voice becoming low, body becoming pliant. “The flower motifs, the inscription on the wall, all the scattered decorations. It makes sense for this place to have that kind of purpose.”
“So what now?” Kaveh asked, leaning against the back rest of the chaise. “I don’t think I have the energy to resist whatever is happening.”
“Let’s just see where it goes,” you shrugged, allowing Al-haitham’s hands to cup your cheeks and Kaveh’s arms to wrap around your waist. “We are already too far gone.”
The next few moments were difficult for you to follow. After allowing your carnal urges to took hold of your actions, all you could remember was how everything felt so good.
The two men slowly ravished your body. You remember Al-haitham pressing his lips against yours, nibbling your lower lip until you allowed him to explore your mouth and play with your tongue. Kaveh, on the other hand, had monopoly over your body, lazily embracing your waist with one arm as he fondled your chest with his hand. He liked to bury his nose on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving his marks all over your skin. Suffice to say, their ministrations left you bare and naked.
There were no words exchanged at that moment, just pure and unbridled lust.
You delighted at the sensation of having both men caressing you, making you feel good. In the haste of it all, the blond had you sitting on his lap, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing your nipples, while Al-haitham’s lips travelled down from collarbones to your stomach; leaving nips and splotches of color in his wake. Your hands could only do so much; wrapped around Al-haitham’s shoulders as you accepted it all.
Kaveh couldn’t believe he finally had a taste of you—his deepest desires finally coming into fruition after years of longing. Although he had to share with Al-haitham, there was no other opportunity like this. He could finally touch you, caress you, tease you as he pleased. There were no eyes to stop him, no boorish ego to tell him he was being unprofessional for liking you as your senior. Maybe this was what he needed after all.
“…Kaveh…” you moaned, looking up to him for a kiss which he easily obliged. He went immediately for a French kiss, sliding his tongue against yours in a soft and needy kiss. Kaveh groaned into your lips as you pressed your butt against the tent in his pants, reminding him to remove his clothes as soon as possible.
Al-haitham watched the exchange with half-lidded eyes and lips ajar. It was turning him on in all the right ways. As a man of rationality, he had never thought he’d enjoy a voyeuristic view of you making out with another man, much less Kaveh. But the sight only made his dick harder, prompting him to bite hard on your inner thigh.
 “—!!”
“Come on now, YN. Don’t tell me you forgot about me,” he growled as he lapped on the bite mark he had just left on your skin. “Let’s hear you moan.”
With those words, the man completely ravished your thighs—leaving nips and bites but altogether avoiding the place where you needed him the most. You were trembling, keening in pleasure, mind numbed by the sensations both men had put you through. With hands tightly digging into Al-haitham’s hair, you collapsed against Kaveh’s chest as you begged the other for more.
Annoyed at the attention you gave to Al-haitham, Kaveh had his hand under your chin and turned your head to face him. Meeting his scarlet eyes, you melted under his gaze—once again joining lips in one sloppy kiss. He easily drowned out your moans with his tongue, delving deeper into your mouth until all you could feel were his soft plump lips.
Aware of how quiet you had been, Al-haitham pushed your legs up and dove right at your center; sucking your sensitive nub without any warning. Your body shook immediately, pulling away from Kaveh’s lips as you reveled at the way Al-haitham was lapping your juices which had been spilling out since earlier.
“…Al-haitham…! Wait—!”
All your pleading went to deaf ears as he continued eating you out, even to the point of inserting his tongue into your hole. It didn’t help when Kaveh suddenly pinched your nipples, flicking them until they were raw and sensitive. He was back on marking your shoulders and neck; his bites now more intense and feral. You could only grasp on thin air as both men drove you to your climax. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes as the pleasure became so unbearable, with no choice but to take it all in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck….! I’m…!”
As Al-haitham sucked hard on your clit; as Kaveh bit hard on your shoulder, you instantly fell to your climax—body shaking and trembling as the pain and pleasure mixed into something indescribably intense and rendering your mind completely blank. You screamed at the overwhelming stimulation, squirting juices into Al-haitham’s mouth which he gladly licked.
The two men gently laid you down on the chaise as they stood in front of you, breathless and horny with cocks painfully hard. Silently, they undressed as you watched—your eyes tracing the contours of their muscles and biceps, their beautiful skin riddled with beads of sweat and bodily fluids. Desire bubbles up from the pits of your stomach once again.
Finally, you saw a glimpse of their erect members, both glistening with pre-cum. Head overridden with lust, you almost salivate at the sight—Kaveh’s was pretty, pink and rather long and slightly girthy, while Al-haitham was thick and veiny; almost as muscular as his toned body. Both men smirked at how you were ogling at them.
“Seems like you want more, YN,” Kaveh remarked as he sat at the end of the chaise, spreading your legs apart. “Surely, we can give you more. Isn’t that right, Al-haitham?”
Normally, this would prompt more bickering from the two, yet they have different priorities right now, and they can set aside their differences for later.
Al-haitham scoffed, hands giving his cock a few pumps before placing it near your lips.
“How about we start with a blowjob? I’m sure you know how to do it, don’t you YN?” There was a mocking lilt to his tone that normally irritated you, yet at that situation, it turned you on for some fucking reason.
At first, you gave the head tentative licks, lapping at the beads of pre-cum spilling from the tip. You then began swirling your tongue around the head and sucking it. Eventually, you licked the underside of his cock, thoroughly covering his member with saliva and pre-cum which earned a deep growl from the man. Locking gazes with Al-haitham, you finally took him in, mouth stretching at his girth. If you weren’t drowning in lust, you would’ve complained at the pain, but at that point, all you could think about was how you were sucking his large cock while Kaveh was rubbing his on your drenched slit.
And speaking of Kaveh, he was busy pleasuring himself—pressing your thighs together around his dick which was brushing against your sensitive clit. If you hadn’t had Al-haitham’s cock in your mouth, you would’ve moaned every time Kaveh would rub on your sensitive bud; yet you could only roll your eyes to the back of your head; seeing stars on the process. It was a delightful distraction, and both men seemed to have made it somewhat of a contest of who could maintain your attention.
All of the sudden, Al-haitham shoved his dick into your throat, making you gag. Holding your head, he was effectively fucking your mouth, as you took it all in. It was painful, but fortunately Kaveh was there to distract you, pressing his thumb on your clit as he continued sliding his cock on your wet cunt. You could no longer tell which was which, allowing your body to feel everything.
“Fuck, YN….I’m going to come in your mouth…” Al-haitham muttered through gritted teeth.
“Wouldn’t you like that, YN?” Kaveh cooed, face flushed as he continued to fuck your thighs. “We’re gonna cover you with our cum…”
With a few strokes, Al-haitham stilled in your mouth and pumped his cum into your throat, while Kaveh spilled his seed on your stomach, almost reaching your breasts. Not able to swallow of Al-haitham’s essence, you allowed the mess to drip from your lips and down to your body. The image of you covered with their seed was enough to keep both men hard even outside the influence of the room. Even after coming once, it wasn’t enough. They had to have you.
Lifting your chin up, Kaveh captured your lips for the nth time, tasting Al-haitham on your tongue. The thought seemed to drive him crazy, as he probed deeper into your mouth, groaning, sucking your tongue and biting your lips. Lifting you up, Kaveh met eye to eye with Al-haitham, both seemingly agreeing on something.
Smirking as he devoured your lips, Kaveh had you on his lap again, his cock now lined up on your cunt. Without saying anything, the blond lowered you to his dick, grunting at the novel sensation of your walls wrapped around him. His lips kept any of your moans from escaping, as he allowed you to feel the shape of his cock in your pussy.
All you could think of at that moment was how good Kaveh filled you up. He was prodding you at the right places, his size making you stop to adjust to him before he can plow into your cunt. The way he was kissing you didn’t help either. The constant stimulation had made your body so sensitive that even a brush of Al-haitham’s hand on your neck or Kaveh’s low growls was enough to make your body spasm.
“…Kaveh…more…”
You begged for him to move, but the blond could only smirk at you as he laid the both of you flat on the chaise with you above him.
“Oh no, we’re not done here, YN. Al-haitham has to prepare you.”
With those words, you suddenly felt cold wet fingers prodding your other hole, prompting you to turn around. You were greeted by a grinning Al-haitham who pressed a few kisses on your back.
“We don’t have any lube right now, but I’ll make sure you’re ready for the both of us.”
As Al-haitham kneeled down, you could feel his tongue rimming your hole, licking and prodding until you were crying out at the strange sensations.
“Wait…no…! That’s…!”
“Relax, YN,” Kaveh assured you as he nipped on your ear. “It’ll feel good later on. Just let Al-haitham pleasure you.”
You could no longer tell how long Al-haitham took to make you feel good, but you could tell that your rigid body was gradually becoming pliant to his touch. Perhaps you already came several times, you weren’t sure as the pleasure seemed to have overlapped each other with no end in sight. By the time you noticed, he already had four digits pumping in and out of you as he lapped on your juices, while you moaned against Kaveh’s shoulders.
“Look how well you can take my fingers, YN,” Al-haitham whispered to your ear as he continued to pound his fingers into your ass. “You think you can take my cock now?”
“A-Al-haitham…please…I—!”
As the ash-haired man flicked a particular spot inside, you could only cling to Kaveh for support, yet the blond himself was also struggling, trying his best not to come even after your walls keep tightening around him.
“Al-haitham…” Kaveh grunted, beads of sweat falling from his temples. “Hurry up…I don’t think I can last much longer…”
Al-haitham clicked his tongue as he shoved his fingers deep into you, making both you and Kaveh groan. “So impatient…perhaps you both need a lesson or two.”
“Well, how about we switch places instead?” the older man asked, his irritation evident.
Yet the other man only smirked, “Maybe later then.”
Finally pulling out his fingers, Al-haitham coated his member with your essence, rubbing it against your hole until he lined it up. Noticing what he was about to do, Kaveh pulled your now swollen lips once more for a kiss, effectively distracting you.
Gradually, Al-haitham pushed his fat cock into your ass, stretching you out in proportions you had never considered before. Having both Al-haitham and Kaveh inside of you had your eyes rolling to the bank of your head, the intensity enough to make you faint. But you were intoxicated with whatever energy was in the room, so instead of actually fainting, you were flooded with pain that was so good that it had your body shaking uncontrollably.
“Breathe slowly, love. Take it easy,” Kaveh whispered sweetly to you, noticing your heavy breaths. He made carefully placed kisses on your jaw and down to the crook of your neck to soothe you. He knew Al-haitham would definitely abuse your hole, and he had to at least make sure that you’d come out sane after this. His ministrations seemed to have worked though, as you collapsed into his embrace, whimpering while taking in both cocks in you.
It didn’t take a while for both men to begin moving. The contrast of Al-haitham’s sharp and harsh thrusts to Kaveh’s slow but long-drawn pace left you an incoherent mess, no longer able to perceive everything that was happening to you. You felt as if you were one big bundle of nerves, drooling and screaming every time their cocks pushed against a particularly sweet spot in you.
Yet you were not the only one on the brink of losing their sanity. Both Al-haitham and Kaveh were acting on complete impulse and desire—with their hands on your waist, plunging into you as deep as they could, relentlessly chasing after their high. They wanted to fuck you over and over again and spill into you, marking you as theirs inside and out. Then rinse and repeat.
“Hey, can you feel it?” Al-haitham asked Kaveh in a breathy voice, grinning as he continued to pound into you.
“Feel what?”
“My dick—“
In one huff, Al-haitham shoved deep and hard into you, which made your walls contract around Kaveh’s.
“Oh fuck…!” The other groaned out, gripping your waist tight as he threw his head up. That was incredible, if he was being honest.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” the younger man smirked as he bent over your back and took a handful of your hair. “YN seemed to have liked it as well.”
“Shut up,” the other simply glared even though his face was completely flushed.
“You should learn from YN, Kaveh. At least, they’re being honest.”
Al-haitham only chuckled as he continued to drive into you, completely mesmerized at how you were clamping around him, how your hips would bounce every time he would thrust sharply, how you were moaning his name on Kaveh’s lips. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have imagined himself desiring you so intensely like this. Unlike Kaveh who obviously had a crush on you, you were more like a like-minded individual to Al-haitham; someone who he could match wavelengths with. He could spend the whole day everyday with you without worrying about anything, and he would feel rather lonely if you weren’t there. Was it different from what Kaveh was feeling about you? He thought it was, but now he wasn’t sure anymore.
Al-haitham felt you tighten around him once more, probably prompted by Kaveh playing with your chest. He could feel himself slowly climbing into his climax, his dick twitching inside of you.
“I can’t…no more…I’m…” you managed to croak out, voice hoarse and dry from all the screaming.
“It’s okay...” Kaveh cooed as he pressed a kiss on your forehead, “we’re cutting it close too…”
“Cum with us, YN,” Al-haitham encouraged.
This was the moment you waited for, feeling both their dicks plunging in and out of you. You reveled at how full you felt, at how you were drowning in so much pleasure that your mind just turned off on its own. This moment where you were all in the brink of your climax was something you chased after—it was the height of all anticipation, of all the build-up. Soon, it will spill over into waves of ecstasy; devouring the three of you whole.
With their erratic paces and their ragged breaths, both men ravished both your holes as they try to reach their peak. You yourself was feeling the brunt of their thrusts, with knuckles white from gripping tightly on Kaveh’s shoulders and eyes rolling to the back of your head. A single hard thrust from both men had you collapsing on your orgasm, walls tightening as your body shook intensely. Following after you, Kaveh painted your walls white, spilling his seed deep into you with a loud growl. Al-haitham finished last, pumping his cum into your ass until it spilt over your hole.
Losing strength, Al-haitham slumped beside you and Kaveh as he tried to catch his breath. You could’ve passed out at the moment, if only the both of them weren’t still hard and ready to go. You yourself weren’t as satisfied as you ought to be, now beginning to miss their deep and sharp thrusts.
“Seems like we’ll have to satisfy this place before it would let us stop,” Al-haitham remarked, pulling out from you with his cum spilling out.
Helping you sit up, Kaveh also pulled out from you, groaning in the process. He wouldn’t want to admit it but he was as eager as you started; evident from how hard he still was despite coming twice.
“You can still take more, can’t you YN?”
“We’ll help you, so don’t worry about anything.”
Climbing back on the chaise, Kaveh pulled you to his lap while Al-haitham captured your lips with a grunt escaping his mouth. That all led you to Kaveh pounding your ass this time while Al-haitham shoved his cock into your pussy—your juices mixing and staining your skin. Imprisoned in the room, the three of you had no perception of time, thus it felt like you were fucking for eternity with no chance of calming down.
The three of you tried every position possible in order to satiate the brewing desire ever-present in the pits of your stomachs. One time you were riding Kaveh while you had Al-haitham on your mouth. Another time you were held by Al-haitham, wrapping your legs around his waist as he fucked your sore cunt raw, while Kaveh was pressed behind you, cock plunging deep in your ass. Both your two holes were full of their cum, spilling out on your thighs and legs.
At that point, the three of you were unbothered where this was going. If this was where you meet your end, you could just imagine Al-haitham’s look of disappointment and disgust. That was hilarious in and of itself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You just wanted to have them both by your side, filling you with their seed over and over again.
By the time you came to notice, you had already awoken yourself from sleep. Both men were lying close, bodies splayed over you as if you three had passed out from fucking too much.
But there, on the periphery of your vision, you saw a door, which wasn’t there before. You rubbed your eyes to check if you weren’t imagining things, but fortunately enough, you weren’t. It was there.
“Kaveh! Al-haitham! Wake up!” you exclaimed, pinching their noses to wake them up.
“Wha…? What happened…?” Kaveh asked, groaning at how heavy both you and Al-haitham were.
“Could you tone it down please?” the younger man scolded, still planning to go back to resting.
But as you were about to move, all the activity you did came crashing on you.
“Oww my fucking back!”
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EPILOGUE
“And so, that is the conclusion of our research on Ruin No. 255b. While our paper is far from conclusive, we would like to take another look at it for more study.”
Al-haitham ended your presentation with a resounding applause from the panel of sages. They were more or less satisfied, saying how the three of you always produced great research which definitely warranted high honors upon graduation.
“But still, I’m curious,” the sage from the Amurta Darshan began. “This section here…on how leyline energy affects an individual’s libido. It’s so incredibly detailed that I have to ask how you were able to get this data.”
You smiled nervously, as you exchanged looks with the two men. “Well, we just had a few volunteers…”
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softguarnere · 3 months
Text
Something He Can't Have
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Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader
A/N: Not me falling back into one of my oldest hyperfixations after watching the movies this past week for Christmas 🥴 I honestly don't know what to say for myself, other than that I had fun writing this and it may have single-handedly saved me from my recent writing slump. Anyway, hope y'all like this, byeeee ✨💕 Warnings: none
Lucy lets out a groan that sounds so annoyed that it instantly draws Edmund back into the present moment. “Can I ple-ease say something now?” She asks Susan, who sits to her left at the banquet table.
Susan shushes her, but there’s no malice behind it. In fact, when she does allow a disheartened look to grace her face, she directs it toward Edmund. “No. I suppose we shouldn’t meddle.”
They’ve captured his interest. Which is something that seems nearly impossible, considering that he’s spent so much of this banquet staring at Peter and (Y/N) on the dance floor, watching his older brother enjoy dance after dance with her. And trying hard not to take it too personally when (Y/N) throws back her head to laugh every now and then at something that Peter has said. Usually, she only laughs like that at his jokes, and usually only when they’re alone together.
If Peter is making her come undone, allowing her to feel comfortable outside of the carefully crafted polite and diplomatic persona that (Y/N) has created for herself to use in Cair Paravel’s court, then she’s become relaxed with him. And who knows where that will lead?
“What are you talking about?” For good measure, Edmund tosses one last glance at the dance floor before turning his attention to his sisters.
“That!” Lucy exclaims, gesturing between Edmund and the crowd that swirl on the floor before them. “This!”
Edmund raises an eyebrow. “The ball?”
His younger sister groans, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, I give up!”
“Edmund,” Susan says sternly. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved, but this has gone on long enough.” For a split second, the gentle queen loses her composure, though only ever so slightly. “I mean, for God’s sake! It’s downright painful to watch!”
Still confused, Edmund isn’t sure what to say that will clarify whatever his sisters are talking about without further upsetting them. Instead, he settles for biting his lip, glancing between his sisters and the dancing, trying to work out their meaning himself.
Susan sighs, turning to Lucy. “He’s either a better actor than we give him credit for, or he’s downright daft.”
“Help me out here,” Edmund says.
“(Y/N)!” Lucy hisses, leaning across Susan so that she can scold her brother without causing too much unwanted attention. “You’ve been following her around all lovesick for ages now, but you haven’t done anything. And now you’re all jealous watching her dance with Peter.”
“Am not!”
Lucy swats his arm. “You’ve been staring at them all night. If you like her so much, then you better do something before you lose her forever!”
In other situations, Susan might chide the youngest Pevensie sibling, telling her that she’s being a bit overdramatic before offering Edmund some sort of good-natured advice. Edmund looks to her expectantly, only to find her brown eyes full of disappointment; she agrees with Lucy.
“We can all agree that you wear green better than any other, Ed,” she says. “But jealousy is not a shade that suits you.”
“Me? Jealous?! Of who?”
But his sisters only fix him with knowing looks. It makes Edmund want to wither away from existence on the spot. He spent most of their lives before Narnia being jealous of Peter. It’s been hard, but it’s something that he’s worked on since they were crowned. He really thought that he had overcome it. Now, though, his sisters’ words, coupled with the funny feeling in his stomach . . . He feels like a man, trapped, full of guilt, and caught in the middle of something very private. Which innocent people with nothing to hide do not feel in situations like these.
I fancy (Y/N), he realizes, admitting it to himself for the first time. It feels demeaning, somehow, to put a label on the feelings that he’s been harboring in secret for so long. And I’m jealous because she likes Peter more than me, says the next one, which makes him feel even worse.
A warm hand takes hold of his and squeezes. For all the annoyance that Lucy has felt toward him in these past few minutes, she offers him nothing but a kind look and encouraging smile. “You have to do something, Ed.”
“I – “ The words clog in his throat, causing him to swallow thickly, trying to find some of the air which has suddenly become very scarce. As you spin by on the dance floor, Edmund can see how you’re smiling at Peter like he hung the moon, and how his older brother beams at you like you created all the stars. Who wouldn’t want to bask in the sun’s warmth like that? And what sort of evil would dare separate two people who appear to be so . . . so in love. “I can’t.”
“You can,” Susan reassures him. “Trust me, Ed.”
Edmund, however, can’t take his eyes off of you. “I can’t ruin that.”
“You won’t,” Susan says. And if Edmund had his wits about him, he would recognize that she says it with the tone of someone who is very sure of herself because she has access to information that no one else has. (She, after all, is your best friend. But facts like that tend to fall by the wayside in moments of intense anxiety such as this.) “Ed, it’ll be fine. Trust me.”
To unstick the words in his throat, Edmund reaches for his goblet and takes a swig of the drink from inside. If he’s really going to do this, he’ll need all the courage he can get, no matter where it comes from.
As the song ends, he pushes back his chair and begins to make his way around the table. Lucy squeals with delight from behind him, and both his sisters offer nods of encouragement and thumbs up when he turns back to them, unsure.
The next thing that he knows, he’s on the dance floor, maneuvering his way through the crowd to reach you –
He catches sight of you just as you excuse yourself from the dance floor. You disappear into the crowd before he can call out to you, though he reaches out a hand, like he might be able to catch you from afar.
“Edmund!” A well-meaning slap on the back announces Peter’s presence. His older brother throws an arm around his shoulders. He radiates heat after all that dancing. “I wondered when you might join us on the dance floor.”
“I’m not. I’m just looking for (Y/N).”
Peter’s smile doesn’t falter, despite the fact that the next words out of his mouth are devastating news. “I believe that she’s retiring for the night.”
“Oh?”
“She said that she needed some air, that she might go to bed.”
As one of Narnia’s kings, Edmund is inclined to stay present for the majority of this banquet. You, being a courtier, are free to go as you please, seeing as there are no diplomatic negotiations, no fates of any nations, resting on your shoulders. If things were different, he would find a way to go after you.
And he’s actually looking for an excuse to do so when Peter says something that makes him stop.
“I wish she would have stayed,” the High King sighs. “We were having such a good time.”
Edmund nods, hands involuntarily clenching into fists at his sides. His voice feels hollow when he replies, “It looked like you were having a good time.”
“I was thinking – “ A laugh cuts Peter off as he shakes his head, looking half embarrassed, half giddy. “I was actually just about to ask her to be my – my girlfriend.” On the last word, something most unusual happens – the High King blushes. Actually blushes! Who would have known that such a thing was possible?
To say that it catches Edmund off guard would be an understatement. He’s never seen Peter so vulnerable . . . so happy. It makes Edmund’s mouth go dry. He and Peter have had their differences throughout their lives, but he can’t just ruin his older brother’s chance at happiness.
“Oh.” Is all that Edmund can think to say. He hesitates for a moment before asking, “What do you think she’ll say?”
Peter laughs, breathlessly, happily. “Well, I’m hoping that she’ll say yes, of course. In fact – “ He glances in the direction that you disappeared in. “ – I would go talk to her now, if not for my responsibilities.”
“Go,” Edmund finds himself saying. He can feel Peter’s look of surprise mirrored on his own face. But if Peter is going to do this, if this is all really happening, he’d honestly rather get it over with. “I’ll cover for you here.”
Now it’s Peter who hesitates. After a moment, his face breaks into a wide smile. He claps Edmund on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Ed.”
I wish I were better, the Just King thinks as he watches his older brother chase after the girl that they both love.  
From the banquet table, Lucy and Susan are giving him confused looks. Edmund only shrugs, then quietly rejoins them. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t want to explain what’s just happened. He recedes into himself, letting the party whirl by without him.
If only he were paying attention – then he would see the knowing look on Susan’s face.
. . .
It’s late when the banquet ends, and later still when Edmund slips into the library. He’s exhausted, but his mind is racing and won’t let him sleep. You and Peter had disappeared from the banquet hours ago. That’s plenty of time for his brother to have confessed to you and for you to have accepted. Dread fills him at the thought of the two of you happily announcing your new relationship the next morning at breakfast. He’ll have to face the two of you sometime, to muscle through his own pain and begin navigating a world where he has to accept that you’re in love with his older brother. But tonight, he can be amongst his books, which are a comfort.
He's so distracted that he doesn’t immediately notice you sitting by the fireplace, an open book on your lap, but a distracted look on your face as you watch the flames dance before you.
“Oh,” you both exclaim at the same time when you notice each other. The synchronicity makes you both laugh.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologizes.
“I didn’t mean to take your hiding spot,” you say in turn. You shut your book, but Edmund holds out a hand to stop you.
“You don’t have to leave on my account.”
You squint, studying him for a second, before nodding and settling back into the cushions behind you. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” Carefully, Edmund takes a seat opposite you, gazing into the fire to gather his nerve. He didn’t expect to find you here. Didn’t expect to find you looking so . . . distracted and lonely as you stare into the fire, your book forgotten. He really shouldn’t pry. But you’re his friend, first and foremost, and he doesn’t want that to change. “Is everything alright?”
Delicate fingers pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh, collecting yourself before looking up at him through the firelight.
“Peter asked me to be his girlfriend,” you confess. Though the library is quiet, your voice is dull, hard to hear. You do not look as joyful as he imagined you would when delivering this news.
“Oh,” Edmund offers. He fumbles for words. You look upset, so he can’t congratulate you. But then again, he’s not sure if he should console you.
You stare at him for a moment, studying him just as intently as he’s studying you. “I said no,” you finally explain.
“Oh,” Edmund says again, for lack of anything better to say. “I’m . . . sorry?” Except that he’s really not. He feels quite relieved, if he’s being honest with himself.
Your brows furrow. He’s said the wrong thing, but he’s not sure where he went wrong.
“I said no,” you repeat. “Because I have feelings for someone else.”
Edmund’s heart, only on the mend for a split second, plummets. “Oh. I see.”
“No you don’t,” you scoff. “Edmund, you’re the one I have feelings for! Have you really not noticed by now?”
The words echo through the still library. They hang between you for a moment. A glorious, albeit confusing, moment where Edmund can do nothing but stare at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly. Narnia is a magical place, but there’s no way that you could have said the very thing that he would do anything to hear.
“You do?” His voice comes so quietly that when you don’t immediately reply, he worries that maybe he hasn’t spoken at all.
“Yes. And for quite some time, I might add.”
“But – “ Images of the night swirl in his mind. You had danced with Peter for ages, looking so happy. Everyone likes Peter. They always have. And much, much more than they like Edmund. To say that you have feelings for him . . . “Why?”
You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . Everyone likes Peter. He always gets what he wants.”
Even in the dim glow of the firelight, he can see your gaze soften.
“Oh, Edmund.” You leave your seat, coming closer to him. He rises, meeting you halfway, so that the two of you are standing together in front of the fire. Gently, you take his hand, intwining your fingers. Your hand is warm in his. You squeeze, and on instinct, he squeezes back. “That’s not true.”
“What’s not?”
“People like you, too. I like you.” Your grip tightens on his hand. “And Peter doesn’t always get what he wants. I know something he can’t have.”
“What’s that?”
A smile tugs at your lips when you gaze up at him and say, “He can’t have this.”
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sunray-222 · 3 months
Text
Second to you. | C.S
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warnings: angst, asshole chris, strong language, breakups, lmk if i miss anything
————————————————————————
when you and chris started dating, it was because you loved him for who he was. not the fame, not what he could bring you, just him. and chris was so in love with you, initially. chris was your escape, from your stresses, your mental health, everything.
chris was your go to. “i’ve got you no matter what baby. i promise.” he’d said it to you countless times, at first it was sweet but the course of your relationship currently, now it felt like he thought he was obligated to say it.
things lately had been rather, intense between the two of you. and not in a good way. you two barely talked, when you did it felt as if chris was always annoyed with you. you slept together, but a million miles apart. it just wasn’t the you and chris that you were used to.
“so, are we going to that party tonight?” you asked, hopeful eyes. maybe going out will bring out the better in you two.
“prolly’ not.” chris mumbled, not even looking up from his phone. “oh, baby please. we haven’t been out in forever?” you begged again, and chris only rolled his eyes as he continued scrolling.
you bit back the tears and the arguing, just wanting one day where you guys don’t fight. you went about your day deciding that whether or not chris went out with you, you and your friends and nick were going.
it was roughly 7:30 when chris decided to pay attention to you, and the short dress you landed on.
“where are you going?” he asked, his tone uneasy as he watched you carefully. “out, the party remember?” you asked, eyes widened as you explained.
“uh.. i guess i don’t remember you bringing that up.”
“course you don’t.” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “if i’d have said it naked chris i don’t think you’d realize then.”
-
and it only continued. the uncomfortable tension didn’t die down, it got worse matter of fact.
“you’re always on the fucking phone, of course you don’t listen.” you cried, voice horse. the two of you had been arguing for what felt like hours, over chris not paying attention to you.
“i’m always on the fucking phone because you’re fucking paranoid y/n. over everything. and it’s leaking out on me. i can’t handle all this shit y/n it’s exhausting.”
“you’re exhausted? try talking to someone who makes you feel like you’re fucking background noise. who makes you feel like you’re the second choice to their phone!” you yelled back, “and on the topic of being fucking paranoid it all started when you started shutting me out you fucking dick.”
you stomped away, slamming the bedroom door in his face. “don’t shut my fucking door in my face, you forget you moved in with me this is my shit y/n. chill your fucking ass out!” he screamed, slamming the door behind him.
“god why do you fucking hate me now?” you asked, tears streaming as you laid on the bed back away from him.
“i don’t. you’re being overdramatic and over reacting to fucking nothing.” chris sighed, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor and rubbing his hands over his face.
“i’m going to bed.” you cried, reaching up to turn the lamp off.
“whatever, y/n/n.” chris mumbled, grabbing a blanket and heading to sleep on the couch.
-
weeks had gone. and the silence was unbearable. and it had all hit you like a ton of bricks when matt asked you, matt who lived with you, “are you two even still together?”
you’d made your mind up then.
it’d been two days since matt asked, and subtly you’d been packing your bags, preparing to stay with one of your friends until you’d figured something out.
it was about 10 o’clock when you hear the sound of matt’s van pulling in and the doors shutting. you sat on the bed, with your bags all around you.
a rough 5 maybe even 10 minutes later chris finally makes his way into the room.
“you havin’ a slumber party or something?” he laughed, standing in front of the dresser pulling night clothes out. “i’m leaving, chris.”
the room fell silent. and chris was trying to fully wrap his head around your sentence. “okay, are you visiting family?”
it was a stupid question, you both knew that. you both also knew chris wasn’t fully grasping reality here. “no, christopher, i’m leaving you.”
“no, no. y/n you’re not, if this is about the fighting i’m sorry i was a dick, i’ll do better.” chris explained, panic in his voice as he turned around. “no, christopher. i tried to get you to change,” you huffed, looking down, you knew that if you looked him in the eyes it’d be immediate tears.
“y/n, please baby. i was just stressed, we can go somewhere just us i’ll turn my phone off better yet i’ll leave it here please baby. i’m sorry.” his voice cracking, it’s as if tears were going to slip any second.
“no chris. no. you were all i had, all i have if i’m being honest with myself. and i wish you all the best in the world. but i’m tired of feeling like i have to compete with your phone, and honestly yourself for your attention. i’m through letting you beat me down everyday.” you explained, pushing his hands off of your lap.
“y/n, it was just stress i promise i’ll do better.” his eyes filled with tears as he sat in the floor in front of you.
“chris i don’t even think you’re crying because we’re done, i just think you don’t wanna be alone.” you mumbled, standing up and going towards the door.
“i’m through letting you destroy me by being with me but not really being with me. i love you chris, but i have to love me more.”
-
sad, short, and angsty. love y’all lmfao
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talaok · 3 months
Note
I need angry love confessions in the rain with Pedro pleaseee
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
warnings: angst with happy ending, and no context whatsoever just feels and my overdramatic writing
a/n: im not sure this is what you meant but this is what my brain decided on
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"y/n stop!"
"No!" you yelled now, fully yelled, screamed at the top of your lungs, because fuck this, fuck everything, you were tired, you were fucking exhausted and you were done being kind.
Rain was falling like splinters of glass shattered all over the concrete, you could still hear the sound of laughter from the bar and his heavy footsteps behind you, so you fastened your pace, your makeup melting underneath the water falling from the sky and your dress drenched, but all you needed to do was run
"y/n wait a fucking second!"
"fuck off Pedro!" 
But his hand was already on your wrist, that never-dying feeling only he ignited still inevitably, annoyingly there.
"Listen to me!"
"No" you said, still turned away, like a child throwing a tantrum
"It's not what you think"
You could have run, you could have freed yourself from his hold and ran to the main street to catch a cab home, but you didn't, for some god-forsaken reason you had turned.
"I hate you" 
You could already tell what he was about to say from the look in his eyes, that fucking look, and those fucking words
The same ones you would have killed to hear just a day ago
"I love you"
You clenched your teeth, shaking your head
"yeah well good for you," you said "It's too late" you shook his hand off of you "you know it's too late"
"but it's not" he breathed "It's never too late, y/n I fucking love you" he sighed, his hair a wet mess all over his forehead "please, just-"
"no" this time tears almost spilling out together with your words "You've had all the time in the fucking world to say that. I've waited for you for a fucking eternity, for you to say that to me, for you to mean it... so no Pedro, you don't get to do this now" you cried "You don't get to say that you love me and make everything else go away, that's not how it works. It's too fucking late."
And so you turned, your back to him, an empty street, blurred by the tears staining your sight, in front of you,
I did the right thing
I deserve better
I don't need him
I just need to get home
"I'm sorry"
He was in front of you, his eyes glimmering, his chest heaving
"I'm sorry y/n" and in his voice was everything, the pain, the pleading, the desperation 
"I'm sorry," he said again, one of his knees hitting the ground "I'm sorry" and there went the other.
He was kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his
"I'm sorry about everything, about making you wait, about how I treated you, how I let everyone else treat you... I'm sorry I didn't know sooner, except of course, I've always known" he paused, looking up at you as if you were a god with the power to take his life away in the blink of an eye, and perhaps at that moment you were.
"The truth is- the truth's that I'm a coward, that I'm an asshole, that I'm million different awful things that I'm sure you know better than anyone," he said "but before everything, before everything, I'm yours" he breathed, "my heart is yours, only yours, because I long for you, every moment of the day I miss you y/n, I think about you, I dream of you- you- you are everything y/n, You are my everything"
The thunderstorm around you was only getting worse, but all you could feel now were his hands grasping yours, and his words melting your heart.
"And I understand if you don't want to forgive me, I do, but I just- I needed you to understand... I needed you to understand that when I say that I love you I mean it, that without you I'm lost, that this feeling for you, this- this god awful, scary feeling isn't going anywhere, and no matter what you decide here now, I will always, until they bury me six feet under... love you more than life"
And what to do? What to do when he was right there, kneeling before you in the pouring rain?
What could you have done, what could anyone have done, with their heart racing and their brain a mess, but do the same?
So you knelt, you dropped to the ground to him,
and this time, he was there to catch you, your tears mixing with the rain as you finally felt his lips on yours.
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pandoraslxna · 3 months
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❄️ Kinkmas — 10. Breath play ❄️
Spider x female omatikaya reader
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⋆。° ✮ Minors dni 🔞
⋆。° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist
⋆。° ✮ Warnings: dry humping, making out, edging, breath play / breath holding, Switch!Spider
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You still remember the first time you noticed Spider holding his breath, after a rather big argument with Lo‘ak.
When he gets upset, or overwhelmed, or fucks up spectacularly, he holds his breath. Not always for long, and never in a way that suggests he knows he’s doing it, but after he resumes breathing he always seems more... settled. Calm, even.
And you notice it happening more after that.
After the two of you had started messing around with each other, you noticed him doing it in bed as well -or in the labs, your marui, at the river (or, in one particularly memorable occasion, in the Sullys family tent while Lo‘ak was passed out drunk and everyone else was sound asleep).
Spider would close his eyes and suck in a breath and hold it right before he comes, and it worked flawlessly to calm himself down. It’s cute, in a slightly concerning way, and it’s so easy to use this to your advantage.
Like right now.
Spider’s head is spinning a little with the need for air, but you just lick into his mouth, suck on his tongue, squirming around in his lap a little, like you have all the time in the world.
His mask is secured in your hand, shoved up just above his forehead so that you can pull it down in time for him to take a breath and fill his lungs with much needed air. Which is now.
Spider gasps, once the mask sits back in place, and when you wriggle like that on top of his still covered but painfully hard cock, his hands come down to grip your hips and hold you in place.
"Jesus, give me a minute", he pants, his tongue swiping over kiss swollen lips.
The grin you give him is wicked, your own mouth shiny and wet with spit. "What, are you close already?", you giggle, your tail curling in amusement and Spider‘s cheeks taint themselves pink. Fuck yes, he is, but the realization that this has been going on for almost an hour now and both of you are still fully clothed makes him narrow his eyes at you in confusion.
He isn’t quite sure what game you’re playing today, considering that this is not exactly conducive to getting him inside you anytime soon, but he’s learned to just play along with you to get what he wanted. Even if that meant suffering and testing his own patience for a bit. Or his stamina.
Your hands then reach out for his mask and Spider barely has a second to suck in a sharp breath before you slide his mask off and pull him into a kiss again.
Kissing you is always different, but tonight it feels like you aim to drive Spider out of his mind.
You press a kiss at the corner of his mouth, one more properly on-center. Spider parts his lips, greedy and desperate, but you just ignore him, kisses his bottom lip and bites it softly. Bites it again, harder this time, raking with your canine until he can feel it swelling up a bit.
His lungs slowly start to burn and his cock throbs and you grind yourself against it, but then you pull back and suddenly the mask sits back on his face.
Spider hears someone breathing raggedly, and distantly realizes it’s himself.
"Fuck", he wheezes and clutches his chest in a way that seems a little overdramatic, yet you can’t help but smile at him. But then his hands wander back down, reach out to grab your hips and rock you back and forth on his cock. Like this, you could feel the prominent outline of his cock under his loincloth, could feel it throb and twitch, and Spider groans and let’s his head fall back. "I‘m so hard, baby, c‘mon", he whines, "shit, just let me… I want to fuck you so bad, oh my god, this is torture!"
Spider‘s half a second away from just shoving his hand down your loincloth, rip the damn thing in two, flip you over and fuck you so hard your pussy will be molded into the shape of his cock.
But you just grin at him toothily. And there goes his mask again.
Eywa, you kiss him nowhere near chastely this time, shoving your tongue into his mouth like he does when he’s fucking your mouth with his cock. He can feel his lips buzzing a little, and there’s spit smeared down his chin. Your mouth is messy and clever and you’re making these little noises into his mouth and Spider‘s going kind of dizzy with how good it is, how much he just wants to stay there forever and how much he needs to fucking breathe.
But you won’t let up— you pull away just once, to watch him with your eyes gone arousal-dark, and then press back in close, sucking sharply on his lower lip and riding his clothed cock like there’s no tomorrow. Below you, Spider moans, desperate and painfully close.
He lets his head thunk back against the wall just as you slide the mask back on. His mouth’s almost numb from kissing. He hasn’t done this much kissing since he was fourteen and had his first girlfriend, and he definitely hasn’t ever been kissed like you kissed.
Your pussy is still pressing down on his cock, the fabric of both loincloths soaked in arousal and pre-cum, and he’s so hard right now that the layers of clothing between you feel like nothing, like if he could just thrust up against you a few more times he might actually come in his pants.
His breathing turns rapid again, chest heaving in quick pants as he works himself up.
"Fucking– shit, I‘m gonna–” Spider swears, thrusting up against you, leaking pre-cum everywhere, tightening his hands on your hips to the point there might be bruises tomorrow.
What snaps him out of his lustful haze, is the feeling of your hand attempting the lift the edge of his mask again. You look all kinds of pleased with yourself as Spiders whines, "I- I can’t, seriously. I need to come so bad it feels like I might explode any minute, but I can’t if you–"
"Just one more time", you smirk, grinding yourself against his cock to get your ping across and Spider hisses in a mix of pain and pleasure. "One more time and then you can do whatever you want with me, monkey boy."
"Fuck, okay, okay."
Inhale, exhale. And then there’s a hiss of air escaping his mask as you slowly lift it, before it’s gone again and your lips press against his own.
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