#literally all I can do is wait for her to be in the same city cause I’m not gonna figure her out as long as I have to rely on her texting

[jeneveuxrein]

best behavior (BLACKPINK Jennie)

word count: 11.2K

(this one was fun, lol)

You have a problem. 

To some, it wouldn’t be considered a problem. Maybe more of a hassle, or an annoyance at the very least.

To you, however, this is nuclear. Talking a DEFCON level one type of situation. 

It could’ve been easily avoided. 

Almost stupidly avoided if you hadn’t been such a pushover.

You were at dinner with Rosie and Lisa two weeks ago. They invited you to join them and a couple of your other friends on a small camping trip over the coming long weekend. You considered it, but when they told you exactly who was going, the decision was easy. 

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Rosie asked after hearing your answer. 

“Chaeng,” You dropped your fork, reaching for your wine glass, suddenly wanting something stronger. “If she’s going, you know I can’t.”

“It’s been years, oppa. She doesn’t mind,” Lisa said, nodding reassuringly. 

“We literally just got to a place where we can be in the same room and not argue,” You reasoned, finishing your drink in one gulp. 

“Which is why spending a few nights with her won’t be that hard,” Rosie smiles, adding, “She already knows you’re going, and she didn’t have much to say except for cool. So I think you’ll be okay. Plus, Jisoo and my sister will be there. You won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to.” 

Rosie had a solid argument. It slightly irritated you that she said you were going before you were even invited. You reluctantly said yes, excited to get away from the constraints of the city with the hopes you wouldn’t have to say anything more than hello to her. 

Her being Kim Jennie, your ex-girlfriend. 

The one who got away. The one who you royally fucked things up with. Any and all cliches fit your disaster of a relationship. 

You were young at the time. And stupid. 

So very stupid. 

You knew the moment Jisoo introduced Jennie to you at a party that she’d be the one you were going to marry. 

It took groveling and nearly losing your dignity for Jennie to finally say yes after months of asking her out, that you’d do absolutely anything to make sure she knew you only had eyes for her. 

But again, you were stupid. 

Before Jennie, you had a bit of a history with women. Player seemed to fit, though you thought of it more as indulgence to spend your nights with a beautiful woman. You developed a reputation that all your friends knew of your unwillingness to commit. 

Everyone was surprised at Jennie when she said yes. The girls, mainly Nayeon and Jihyo, were vocal about their opinions on your relationship, but Jennie didn’t care. She brushed them off, saying that she trusted you anyway. 

Something you stupidly broke. 

It was even more stupid whenever you thought about it, which was more than you’d like to admit. 

You were at a party, celebrating Rosie’s promotion, when you received a message from Jennie that she wouldn’t be able to make it. Something had come up at work, and she wasn’t able to leave. You didn’t bother responding, ticked off again that work had become the priority. 

You’d been dating for over a year at that point, and there was a small shift in your relationship. It was subtle, but enough for you to notice. It had been a small point of contention at first, then slowly built-up resentment turned into a huge argument about not spending time together anymore.

Because for Jennie, her climbing the corporate ladder was number one. You were considered second—one-point five as she would say. You’d throw it in her face, but she was adamant it was only temporary.

You really should’ve checked your messages again before you and Chaewon drunkenly stumbled into your apartment. If you did, then you would’ve known Jennie was waiting for you.

You froze as soon as you saw your girlfriend sitting on your couch, wearing a black silk robe with the slightest hint of lace peeking at the top. The guilt immediately washed over you as soon as you heard Chaewon sigh, a quiet stupid falling from her lips before she walked out. The only reason why she came home with you was because of the picture you painted of a broken heart, something that was a blatant lie, but soon became an obvious truth. 

You tried to explain, words forming sentences that had no merit, no weight that could get Jennie to believe you. She remained silent the whole time, that her last words to you before she left was I trusted you and that was that. 

You technically—if you wanted to be a real asshole—didn’t cheat. Nothing happened between you and Chaewon, but it was obvious that if Jennie didn’t show up, something would’ve happened. The intention was there, but you were stupid because you were young, immature, selfish and you couldn’t be patient. She never gave you any doubt that she didn’t want to be with you, but you were just stupid.  

You still had to see her after that. You couldn’t avoid it. You had the same friends, and it didn’t help that you were close to Jisoo, Rosie, and Lisa—Jennie’s best friends. 

In the beginning, you apologized every time you saw her, pleading—borderline begging—for her to give you one more chance. She would walk away, but you’d reach out to pull her back. Your face would be sore and red every single time. 

It got to the point where you were just as petty as she was. You mocked her every time she spoke, making faces and scoffing at any word that came from her mouth. She would curse you out and you’d just smile, eliciting an even greater reaction that Lisa had to physically restrain her away before she bruised your face. 

You didn’t get a pass. Jisoo kicked you square in the gonads once she found out what happened. Rosie threatened to sue you for whatever reason she could find. Lisa just shook her head, disappointed that you did what you swore you wouldn’t.

Lisa’s reaction hurt the most, reminding you of the effort you put to be with Jennie, and that was something you couldn’t forgive yourself for, the regret weighing on your shoulders every time you were in the same room with her. 

A feeble attempt to try to move on was made, but it wasn’t fair to the women who genuinely showed interest in you to be paraded in front of Jennie as a means to make her jealous. 

Whether it worked or not, you didn’t know. What you did know was that almost a year after you broke up, Jennie introduced everyone to her boyfriend—Taehyung. 

And intentional or not, you were jealous. 

You wanted to deck him square in the jaw for some comment he made during a conversation about cheating, but Lisa was there to pull you outside, reminding you that you had every intention of cheating on Jennie because of what your relationship was at that point. 

“She’s trying, oppa. She loved you too, but it wasn’t enough for you to wait,” Lisa lit up a cigarette after watching you kick a few chairs over. 

That stuck with you, forcing you to mellow out whenever Jennie was there. You started to politely greet her, which she met with a cool indifference, unfazed by your change in attitude.

It became cordial at the very least. The walls were up and you didn’t have it in you to break them down. You helped build them up after all.   

So the problem you’re currently experiencing could’ve just been avoided if you were firm in your no. 

“Why do you look stressed out?” Rosie asks as your jaw clenches, a headache forming in between your eyebrows. 

“Count how many tents we have,” You grit out, staring at the reserved camp site. 

“One… Two… Three… What’s wrong… Oh,” Rosie’s voice falls flat when she realizes what the problem was. “Shit, let me go talk to Alice.” 

You sigh when Rosie drops the wood she was holding on the ground, hurrying over to where Alice is. You quickly hear the siblings start to argue, causing you to sigh again because the only option that you think of is if you leave and come back to pick them up. 

“Why are they arguing?” Jennie asks out of nowhere, that you drop the wood you just picked up. 

“Jesus, when the hell did you get there?” You shake your head, doing everything you can to regulate your heartbeat. 

“I just got here,” Jennie shrugs as if she didn’t scare you. “So what’s going on?” 

“There’s only three tents,” You awkwardly answer, bracing yourself for her to yell at you for forgetting to bring the tent. 

The sleeping arrangements were decided on the hike to the campsite. The Park siblings would share a tent, Lisa and Jisoo would bunk together, while you and Jennie had your own tents. When you finished putting together the third tent and went to look for the fourth, it could not be found.

“I can just sleep by the fire,” You offer, already thinking of how you’ll get sick and how your assistant will hate you for missing work. 

“It’s fine,” Jennie waves you off, placing the water jugs at her feet. “We can share.” 

“Wh-what?” You stutter out, eyes widening. “We don’t need to do that.” 

“Stop being difficult,” Jennie rolls her eyes. “We can be adult about things, and it would make me feel bad if you got sick.” 

You open and close your mouth, but no words come out. You’re rendered speechless. Jennie hasn’t said anything remotely nice to you in over three years. The fact that she’s offering to share the tent with you speaks volumes. 

“Careful,” You say with the slightest hint of teasing, “It’s like you almost care about me or something.” 

The muttered shut up you hear has you absolutely grinning. It goes away the second she ‘accidentally’ kicks your shin as she steps over to the log. 

--

“Watch out, Jendeuks,” Jisoo slurs out, the effects of the soju catching up to her. It’s catching up to all of you at this point. “Oppa doesn’t behave around drunk girls, especially if he’s drunk himself.” 

“Jisoo,” You roll your eyes, watching the women around you laugh at your expense. 

“What?” Jisoo’s eyes narrow in your direction. “I don’t need to wake up tomorrow morning with the mandu upset for you trying something with her.” 

“I’m not even going to do anything!” You raise your arms up in defense, shaking your head. 

The girls, Alice included, had a field day when Jennie told them you’d be sharing the tent with her. They relentlessly teased you, almost to the point of where you’d rather get sick and end up in the hospital than having to share the next few nights with Jennie. 

“Ah,” Lisa clicks her tongue, waving a finger at you, “We’d have to watch out for Jennie instead, since Taehyung broke things off with her.” 

What?

“Lisa,” Jennie grits out, eyes glaring at the youngest member. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“What? Who cares, he sucked anyways,” Lisa honestly answers. “He was so insecure over op–”

Jennie’s hands are over Lisa’s mouth before she could finish that sentence. It piques your interest since it sounded like their breakup had something to do with you, but you couldn’t understand how you were involved. 

“On that note,” You watch Jennie and Lisa wrestle, “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s probably best if we all call it a night,” Alice stands, nodding in agreement that it was time for sleep.

“Jen,” You say, out of habit more than anything, that it has the two women stopping to look at you. When you realize your slip up, you awkwardly scratch your head, “Err, uh, you can change in the tent first, I’m just going to head to the bathroom. Leave it unzipped when you’re done, please.” 

You don’t bother waiting for her to respond, knowing she’ll do it anyways. 

By the time you return, the tent’s unzipped. You slip your shoes off before awkwardly climbing into the tent. It’s big enough for three people, but comfortably with two people and all their belongings. Your sleeping bags are on opposite sides of the tent, which the set-up isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. 

“Hey,” You greet her quietly, unzipping your sleeping bag to add another layer of warmth since the temperature suddenly dropped as soon as the sun set. 

“Hi, do you need to change?” Jennie asks politely, head tilting towards the tent entrance. 

You shake your head, deeming your sweats and hoodie were more than enough since you had an extra blanket. “I’m good.” 

“Okay, well,” Jennie shuts off the lamp once you’re tucked in, “Good night.” 

“Good night,” You murmur, listening to the fabric rustle as she settles into her sleeping bag. 

Once it goes completely silent, except for the not-so-hushed conversation between Jisoo and Lisa from the other tent, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your eyes slowly close before sleep takes you, the tiredness from the day knocking you out.

--

You hear your name being called out, forcing you out of your slumber. It couldn’t be that early based on the small amount of light casted on the tent.

You look around before hearing your name again and realize Jennie’s the one saying it. 

“Jennie?” You whisper out, sitting up to Jennie’s sleeping bag much closer to yours than where it was before you fell asleep. 

What happens next has you sinking back into your sleeping bag when Jennie moans, a sound you’re all-too familiar with. 

Fuck is all that crosses your mind. You’re completely fucked and if there was some higher being out there, you would pray to them every day on your knees to get you out of this situation. It’s probably retribution for all the wrongs you’ve ever done in your life, and to hear your ex-girlfriend moan your name while she’s asleep is the worst kind of fate. 

You never thought you’d hear her like that ever again, but it reminds you of all the times she did. 

You wouldn’t exactly say you had a high sex drive because you are human, but when it came to sex and threw Jennie in the mix, it was hard for you to control yourself. Your relationship was physical, as expected from any healthy relationship, but there was something that could never compare to the other women you’ve known so intimately. 

When she told you she loved you, you made sure you showed her exactly how much you loved her right back.

You were into kinks and the like, but the word daddy out of her mouth had you fucking her like your life depended on it. 

Sometimes it did. She would always want more, losing herself around you that had you lost with her, but you’d find each other in the end. 

So yeah, the universe or higher being or whoever the fuck has it out for you. 

“Daddy,” Jennie moans out, louder than she probably intended that you had to get the fuck out of the tent and jump off a cliff and into the lake. 

“Fuck,” Your body’s conditioned to have a visceral response, that it starts to react to her mumblings. You feel hot as the blood rushes south, awakening your cock as her breaths get breathier. 

You nearly stumble out of the tent, the cool air hitting your lungs as you get your footing. You ignore the pit in your stomach, brushing away all thoughts of Jennie like that. You fucked up any chance to be with her the moment you showed up to your apartment with another woman. 

You let out a quiet groan before deciding that you might as well prepare breakfast. 

--

You avoid Jennie for most of the day. 

You couldn’t look her in the eye once she woke up after hearing her and whatever dream she had of you. It almost felt too personal to witness that, especially without her knowing.

It wasn’t easy though with Rosie and Lisa doing everything in their power to make sure you were paired off together. The thought of them scheming to get you back together crossed your mind, mainly because they both knew how you felt and if the chance ever arose, you’d do anything to be with Jennie again. It was a fleeting thought because hell would have to freeze over.

You could have been imagining things, but Jennie seemed to avoid you as well. She wouldn’t make eye contact with you when you spoke. She would give little to no response when you were part of a conversation. 

The day just started off weird, yet you still have this get-together with the people from a neighboring campsite after meeting them on the hike. 

Lisa wraps an arm around your neck, “Anyone catch your attention?” She asks loudly as you follow the rest of the girls. 

“No,” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you shake her hold off you. 

“It’s okay if there is, you know,” Lisa says as she falls in step with you. “Just make sure you do whatever activities at their campsite. I’m pretty sure that’s where Jennie-unnie draws the line.”

“He could do whatever the fuck he wants,” Jennie comments from in front of you. 

“Such a masochist, unnie,” Rosie drawls out. “Hearing an ex fool around would kill me.”

You’re about to tell both of them to knock it off, but Jennie’s faster, “He’s not going to fool around with anyone, right?” She stops in her tracks, causing you to bump into her, hand reflexively reaching out to steady her so she wouldn’t fall.

“Controlling,” Jisoo mutters, but everyone hears her loud and clear. 

It puts you on the spot because on one hand, you have nothing stopping you from doing anything, while on the other hand, you’re trying your best to at least get to the point where you could be friends with Jennie. 

“Right,” You concede, surprising yourself and the women around you. You quickly drop your hand, giving Jennie a tight smile as she stares at you.

Best behavior you think to yourself once the group starts walking again. 

--

Best behavior, as you so called it, applied to you. It didn’t, however, apply to others. 

You could not control the behaviors of other people, no matter how much you try. 

It’s been ‘nice’ hanging out with the girls from the nearby campsite. You use ‘nice’ loosely because it’s been hell for you having to balance the woman on your lap and the woman across the fire glaring at you everytime you look up. 

As soon as you sat down, one of the girls—Ryujin—beelined for you, taking most of your attention away from everyone else. 

Ryujin’s pretty. You have eyes, and you’d think most people would agree. She seemed shy when you met her on the hike, but something was different by the time you arrived. You chalked it up to the few empty soju bottles you saw that they had already started drinking. She was a lot more forward, throwing your whole best behavior self-talk down the drain. 

How she ended up in your lap? You have no idea. You tried to politely push her off, but you didn’t want to cause a scene. 

“Wanna hang out in my tent?” Ryujin whispers, the faint scent of alcohol lingering in her breath.

The implication was there. 

If it was any other situation where your ex-girlfriend wasn’t there, you would.

But said ex-girlfriend is there. 

From the corner of your eye, Jennie stands, whispering something in Rosie’s ear that has her standing as well. 

“I’ll walk back with you,” Your ears perk up. 

“It’s really fine, Chaengie. I’m just tired from today,” Jennie forces a smile, but you sensed something else was off. 

“Are you sure?” Which Jennie nods before bidding farewell to the others. 

Jennie, however, doesn’t say anything to you and leaves before you could ask if she was okay. 

“So…what do you say?” Ryujin’s voice tears your gaze away from Jennie’s retreating figure. 

“I’m sorry, I should go with her,” You gently tap at her shoulder, which she begrudgingly stands. 

It catches the attention of the others, prompting Lisa to ask what you’re doing when you fold the blanket, handing it to Ryujin. 

“I’m going,” You shrug as if it’s no big deal. You don’t miss the way Lisa and Rosie’s head tilt. Jisoo rolls her eyes while Alice just drinks, oblivious.  

“What a gentleman,” Yuna comments, her friends nodding in agreement. 

You tell the girls that it was nice meeting them, that maybe you’ll see them in Seoul because Lisa will definitely want to see them again. Ryujin gives you a longer-than-necessary hug, which Jisoo snickers because your friends know the exact reason why you’re leaving so abruptly. 

--

Jennie walks fast. 

For someone who’s one of the smallest in the group, she gained some distance from the campsite before you finally caught up. 

“Jennie,” You call out a couple meters away. She stops, but doesn’t turn around. It gives you enough time to meet her.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Like in Ryujin’s tent?” Her voice is cold, distant, detached even. It immediately takes you back to that night.

When you don’t respond, Jennie walks away. 

You won’t make the same mistake again and if it leaves you with a black eye, it is what it is.

You don’t let her get that far, reaching for her shoulder that she shrugs you off before turning around so fast that you almost lose your balance.

“Don’t touch me,” Jennie says sharply. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask. She’s starting to actually piss you off. You’re sure that if you weren’t a bottle of soju in, you wouldn’t get this upset. You’d rather blame it on the alcohol than unresolved feelings. 

Jennie scoffs, rolling her eyes, “My problem? You’re seriously asking me what my problem is?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” 

Her next move has your cheek stinging. 

“Jennie, what the fuck,” You rub your face. She’s slapped you before, but there was actual force behind that one.

“You’re my fucking problem. To this fucking day, you’re still my fucking problem,” Jennie suddenly invades your space, chest against yours as she looks up at you. 

“I’m not even doing anything,” You sigh, dejected and tired. If there’s one thing you don’t want to do right now is to argue with her.

“You are. Just being around you is so fucking hard,” Loose fists hit your chest three times before she collapses into you. “Do you not understand how hard it is to watch some girl throw herself at you and you fucking entertain it?”

Her confession catches you off guard because you always wondered what she thought when you were around girls. You gently place your hands on her waist, and her body freezes. 

“Jen,” You say quietly. 

“No, I can’t do this,” Jennie’s out of your hold, walking away. 

It takes you a minute because there’s a lot for you to process, but you act quickly, following after her. 

Thankfully the fire you lit still burns bright, and you see Jennie’s near the tent. 

You call her name out before she could unzip the tent. When she doesn’t face you, you jog toward her, refusing to let this go. 

“Can you just talk to me? You’re getting mad at me for doing something I can’t control,” You almost reach for her again, but experience has taught you to tread lightly. 

“What’s there to talk about? We’re not together so if you want to fuck Ryujin, be my guest,” Jennie says lowly. 

“Did you want me to?” Your temper flares, words cutting right through you. “Did you want to hear me fuck someone? Rosie was right, you are a masochist.”

Jennie turns suddenly, her arm winding back but you’re quicker this time, grabbing her arm. 

“Let fucking go of me,” Jennie struggles in your grasp, but you’ve always been stronger. 

“No,” You pull her body flush against yours before wrapping an arm around her waist, securing her tightly. Her head falls back, eyes narrowing. “You’re being a fucking brat.” 

“And what’re you going to do about it?” You watch her expression darken, a look you haven’t seen in years. 

“This,” You slam your lips on hers, swallowing the gasp she lets out once your teeth meet. 

You feel everything. 

The way her arms try to break free from your hold. 

The way her hips fold, but can’t go anywhere. 

The way her breath hits you as you move your mouth, granting you access before her body relaxes. 

The way she presses herself against you. 

“This good enough?” You murmur in between kisses, her arms snaking around your neck as she melts into the kiss. 

“I’ve had better,” Jennie taunts, slightly panting as you gently bite her lip. 

“Then you don’t need me,” You move your tongue in her mouth swiftly before pulling away. 

“Wait, what’re you doing? Come back,” Jennie stands on her tiptoes as she tries to bring you back. 

“You said you had better,” Raising an eyebrow as you loosen your grip, but Jennie’s arms are ironclad around you. “So…” You shrug. 

“No no,” Jennie shakes her head, biting her lip as she stares at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” 

“Off Jen,” You say simply and she complies, hands at her side has you stepping back. 

It’s a dynamic you’re familiar with. 

It’s toxic at the minimum. 

Degrading at its absolute worst. 

You and Jennie hardly argued. You could count on both hands the amount of blow ups you’ve had. It would get aggressive, but with what followed after, was so much better. It might not have been the healthiest way to deal with conflict, but you’d work through it—blissed out, hormones working in overdrive.

“Please,” Jennie says quietly. 

“Please what?” You cross your arms, gaze never breaking as you watch the internal war she’s having with herself. 

It’s a bit risky to do this right here, right now, but you’re hyper-aware of the effect she’s having on your body. If she responds the way you want her to, you’ll be sent into overdrive. 

“Please,” She shakes her head, eyes casting down. 

“Say it,” You gently cup her chin, tilting her head backwards as your lips ghost against hers, “Say it, princess.” 

Jennie lets out a moan, a breathy one at that before she says what you’ve missed so much. 

“Please, daddy.” 

“Good girl,” You kiss her sweetly this time, an almost tender kiss that has her sneaking a hand underneath your hoodie. “Ah, ah, did I say you could touch me?” 

Jennie’s head shakes, her lips never leaving only to say, “No.”

“If you want to get fucked, behave,” She immediately pulls her hand out from underneath, wrinkling your clothes as she waits in anticipation. You’re at the point of no return. 

She’s the only one that could bring this side out of you. 

“Yes sir,” Jennie says, voice shaking. 

Without a word, you let her go. You smirk at the whine she lets out. 

You unzip the tent and grab her hand, fingers interlaced before dragging her inside. You ask her to sit while you rearrange the sleeping bags. She offers to help, but you shake your head since it won’t take long. It helps that the sleeping bags are a matching set, allowing you to easily make one giant sleeping bag.

When you finish, it’s obvious that Jennie’s doubting this, the etch of concern on her face says it all. It forces you to switch into the side you’ve always been when it came to her because she was the most important, her comfort was your top priority—still is. 

“Jen,” You say softly, scooting over to her before stretching your legs around her. She looks up, and something scratches at your ribcage, “We don’t have to. Swear. We can forget this happened.”

Like you could. 

The thought of asking for a transfer abroad crosses your mind so you wouldn’t have to see her. 

“I couldn’t do that,” Her voice is quiet, the slight tremble you’d hear whenever she’d whisper her fears, on top of the pillow, head tucked under your chin. “It did happen. I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Jen-” She shakes her head. 

“I… Don’t laugh okay,” Jennie swings her legs around, crossing them as she takes your hands. “It’s just confusing right now. Yes, Tae broke up with me, but not for the reason you think. It’s actually stupid.” 

“Okay I won’t laugh, so shoot.”

Jennie starts playing with your fingers, tickling the skin that has your back shivering, as she tells you what happened. They were fooling around—you really didn’t want to hear that—and Tae asked her to call him daddy. She thought he was joking because she never got the impression he was into that. She described their sex life as vanilla, not that she minded. Her desires weren’t strong enough to make him do them, and she liked him enough to let that go.

The part that had your eyes open like saucers was when she said she wouldn’t. She opened her mouth to say it, but her voice got caught in her throat. She couldn’t say it, it felt wrong to. 

“Uh so what you’re saying is—”

“Shh,” Jennie pinches your palm, “I’m not finished.” 

Taehyung took offense when she shook her head. He stood, demanding why not. She really couldn’t think of a reason. She tried to play it off like she wasn’t into that, but he didn’t believe her. 

Then he brought you into the conversation. By his logic, you were the last boyfriend so it had to be because of you. You were also Jennie’s first serious relationship. 

She denied that because there was no reason as to why it would. They argued, going back and forth about why you were still in her life. It ended with him leaving her apartment, needing to cool off. 

There were a couple days in between before they spoke again. He had his clarity, realizing he overreacted and didn’t want to push her if that wasn’t something she was into. 

On her end, Jennie was confused. It struck something in her when he said that she never got over you. In the heat of the moment, she didn’t pay it any mind. As soon as he left, it came barreling back. 

She thought it was because he was jealous. He always sighed whenever she mentioned you’d be at the same events. He would be more affectionate whenever you were around. It didn’t cross her mind, but that was the only thing that made sense.

Then the idea of calling Taehyung, her current boyfriend, daddy has her stomach in knots. It didn’t feel right at the mental image of him and that word together. Her mind drifted to yours and she shot up from the bed when she she slipped her hand underneath her shorts. 

“So again, for my understanding, is that—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jennie rolls her eyes, slapping your thigh.

When you chuckle, she glares. 

“Sorry sorry, continue.” 

Jennie couldn’t believe it. She had no way to explain the visceral response her body had at the thought of you. She admitted that she actively pushed down any thoughts of you as soon as you broke up, adding that no other guy ever made her feel the way you did. 

(That comment went straight to your head, which she must have seen the way your face lit up because she punched your inner thigh.)

When it was Jennie’s turn to speak, what she originally wanted to say was not what actually came out. She wanted to break up. In that short time apart, her attraction for him dipped and she didn’t want to be with him anymore. She called it a change of heart and that the relationship ran its course. He wasn’t expecting that, pleading that he’ll be better, but she was firm in her decision. 

She took the break-up as it was. She expected to be sad, which she was. She explains she gave herself time to think and process what she actually felt. It didn’t help that she saw you frequently, confusing her feelings. She wanted you, but at the same time, she didn’t think she could trust you. 

“Then, you fucking wrap your coat around me one night after dinner and when I asked you what the hell you were doing, you just shrugged, saying I looked cold,” You remember that night. She was running late and forgot to bring a jacket. She cursed you out in front of everyone, but you didn’t care. You were used to that. You did, however, care if she was cold. “And it was obvious you still cared about me.” 

“Well yeah,” You say pointedly. “Nothing physical happened between Chaewon and me. Yeah she might’ve been all over me, but I never kissed her.”

“But you would’ve, right? If I wasn’t there,” Jennie lets go of your hands. 

“I don’t know, probably,” You shrug. That night still haunts you, and it’s not the most pleasant thing for you to think about. She gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything else.

“So yeah, that’s why we broke up,” Jennie’s hands fold onto her lap.

“All I’m getting is that you belong to me,” You smirk as she rolls her eyes. You act as if you completely missed the point of the story. You didn’t, but it went straight to your cock finding out Jennie touched herself because of you. 

“I’m not your fucking property,” Jennie deadpans. 

“I’m not saying you are. What I am saying, however,” You scoot closer to her, moving her hands out of the way before reaching for her hips, easily lifting her on top of you, “Is that your body wants me.” 

“Not true,” Jennie’s voice shakes when your lips ghost along her neck. 

“We don’t have to decide what this is right now. You know, deep down, I want to be together. I was–still am–serious about marrying you, that hasn’t changed,” You press your lips underneath her jaw, head tilting back to give you more access,  “I’m sure you won’t make it easy for me.”

“Who said we’re getting back together?” Jennie sighs as her hands rest on your neck, hair threading through her fingers. 

“Me,” You murmur, sucking slightly on her skin. “So let me start now, okay?” 

“Fine,” You smile against her skin, tongue soothing the mark you know everyone will tease her if they see it. She tugs you off, a pout forming on your face, “Slow?” 

“Whatever you want, princess,” You tease, sucking in a breath when her body rolls, hands gripping her waist a little tighter. “Your call tonight.”

Jennie stares at you for a moment, and you don’t waver, keeping her gaze to show you’re serious. 

“Mine?” 

“Yours.” 

A double entendre.

Jennie slips her hands underneath your sweater, pulling it off you, exposing your bare torso, before bringing you in for a heated kiss. Your body quickly reacts, cock stiff as she grounds her hips over you. You’re fighting for dominance as your tongues wrestle, swallowing all the airy pants and gasps falling from her mouth. 

“Fuck,” You moan as she bites hard on your bottom lip. “I thought you wanted slow.” 

“You talk too much,” Jennie gets out in between kisses. 

“I thought you liked it when I talk,” You detach your lips, trailing them along her jawline. Sweet kisses have her body shivering. 

“I preferred it when your mouth did other things,” Jennie breathes out, head falling back as you nip on her skin. 

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it,” You say lowly as you continue your onslaught all over her neck. She’ll probably have to wear your hoodie to cover all the love bites, and she’ll definitely yell at you in the morning. 

You do not care. 

“You know what I want.”

You do, but you won’t make it this easy for her. 

“Probably,” Your hands guide her movement,  applying delicious friction over your sweats. It garners you a deep moan as she grabs your shoulders to steady herself. “But you know I like hearing you princess.”

Jennie loudly moans after a particularly hard suck, fingers pulling on your hair as her hips circle over you. She mumbles something that you can’t quite hear, sneaking a hand underneath her hoodie. Her body shivers at your touch. 

“What’d you say?” Thumb rubbing gentle circles over her back. 

“Fuck me.”

“Be more specific,” You taunt, the warmth emanating in between your bodies, and you just know she’s fucking soaked. 

“You’re being a fucking tease,” Jennie groans once your lips meet her collarbone, “We don’t have that much time.” 

She has a point. You’re not sure when the others will return, but Alice will make everyone leave if they get too much. 

“You know I can’t just fuck you,” You murmur, burying your face into her neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” Jennie whimpers, grinding herself over you, the ache in your cock has you groaning. “I can take you.”

“I have to stretch you out, princess.” Not that you’re bragging, but you know you’re well above the average. The amount of shock through the years said enough. 

Jennie shakes her head as her hips lift from her position. You whine, in an attempt to pull her back, but she stands, untying her sweats before it falls down her legs. 

Your mouth waters at the site of Jennie’s pussy right above you. The dim lighting of the tent lamp shines a slick dripping down her inner thighs. She’s absolutely gushing and it turns you on that it was all because of you. You quickly slip the waistband of your sweats down, freeing your cock. It slaps against your stomach, and you notice your tip weeping leaking. 

“You want my mouth, baby?” You stare up at her, uncaring as you lick your lips. You could almost taste her. Your hand encloses around your length, slowly stroking yourself as you imagine your face in between her legs. 

Jennie shakes her head once again, gently tilting your head back to give her a better view of you touching yourself, “Lay back.” 

You don’t hesitate. You follow her command, keeping a steady pace with your hand as you watch Jennie step over you, feet falling on the outsides of your legs. 

Jennie lowers herself, shutting the lights off and keeping her gaze on yours. You sharply inhale as the apex of her thighs get closer to your cock, increasing your movement that your forearm starts to burn. 

The moment her slick touches the tip of your cock, Jennie squeals, biting her lip to muffle the sound. You groan, dropping your hand as your length slides in between her lips. 

“Jen,” You pant, hands shooting to her hips to steady her, but it ends up dragging her wetness all over your cock. “I need to prep—”

“No, no,” Jennie’s eyes roll back as her hips rock over yours. “I can handle you. I’m so fucking wet for you. Let me, please daddy please.”

It’s like a switch went off as she moans, rolling her body in a wave as she rubs herself over you. 

“Princess,” The nickname has her mewling, hips stuttering as your cock hits her clit. “Tonight’s about you.” 

“I want your cock, daddy.” She falls forward, arms resting on your chest as her hair covers your face. She kisses your neck, heavy breaths, as her hips swirl. “It’s been so long. I need to be filled.” 

Her filthy words have you blindly thrusting up, brushing through her lower lips as she moans into your skin. 

“Good ahead, baby.” 

Jennie reaches her hand backwards, fingers delicately wrapping along your girth. You buck into her hand, groaning as she rubs it around her hole. Once she guides your tip into her entrance, her hips seductively roll down to take you in. 

You swear you see stars the moment her pussy wraps around the head, her walls squeezing you tightly. Her hands press hard into your chest, pushing her body upright as you watch her head fall back. When your eyes glance down, you groan at the sight of your cock in between her legs. 

“Daddy,” Jennie’s eyes open slowly, breaking your gaze to her eyes low, lust taking over as she lowers herself more. 

“Yes princess?” You suck in a breath as her slick drips down your cock.

“Tell me I’m good,” Jennie circles her hips, knees spreading slightly as her body adjusts to your size. “I’m being good right?” 

“Good girls take all of me,” You watch, hypnotized as she continues her movement, your length gradually disappearing more and more. Her body recoils before dropping even lower that your hands tightly grip her waist. 

“Daddy,” Her nails dig into your skin, hips shaking side to side. “Please, I’ll be good. Let me be good.” She trembles in your hold, walls accommodating your size. 

Your resolve’s slipping. Fast. 

With Jennie moaning and the sight of her struggling to take you in has your hands dropping. You mutter a fuck as the pressure around your cock increases tenfold, her body tensing as nails raking down your chest. The pain is short-lived as the warmth from her walls spurs you on, causing an involuntary thrust up as gravity pushes her down. 

“Holy shit, Jen.” Your eyes snap to see your length gone, fully sheathed inside her as her pussy tightens. 

Jennie freezes, hands gripping your sides, before letting out a filthy moan. 

“Daddy, am I being good?” She leans back, her hands on your knees before slowly rolling her hips up. 

“So fucking good,” You don’t recognize your voice, eyes locked on watching your cock appear in between her legs. 

“I missed you,” Her body shivers as she takes you in again. 

It’s a confession, something she’s been holding in for a while based on how she rides you slowly, intently, purposefully—to remind you just what you’ve been missing since. 

All you can do is moan because she feels too good wrapped around you, the overstimulation of her walls hugging your cock in the best kind of way. Sex has always felt good, but with her, it just feels like more.

Your hand slips underneath her hoodie, gently palming her breasts as she moves above you. She’s always been reactive to your touch, and you couldn’t forget the spots that always have her begging for more. 

“Such a good girl,” You watch her hips gyrate into figure eights, hypnotizing you as she mewls with every roll. Her walls tighten at the praise, her slick getting slicker. 

Jennie’s mouth is suddenly on your lips, attacking with such gusto as her pace increases. Her clit brushes against your public bone and you can feel her impending orgasm from her pussy’s death-like grip. 

If this is how you go, what a way to die.

Your hands find hers, interlacing your fingers together. She never breaks away, shoving her tongue into your mouth as she pants and moans like the good girl she is. She brings your arms overhead, hips grounding on top of yours. 

“I’m gonna cum daddy,” Jennie mumbles weakly against you, her hips stutter, pace erratic as she fucks herself all over your cock. 

You snap your waist upward, leaving no spot in between her walls untouched, and she loses it. She lets go of your hands, arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she holds on.

All you can focus on is getting her to cum because time is running out. You continue thrusting, hands easily finding her hips as you guide her movements, the sound of your bodies spurring you on. 

“Baby,” You grit out, hips erratically pounding up into her. The change in nickname meant you were close, too close that you might release inside of her. 

“Do it daddy,” Jennie raises her head slightly, eyes locked onto yours. “You know you want to,” She whispers, breath ghosting over your lips as her body slams against yours. 

“Princess wants me to cum inside her?” You breathe out, hands trailing down to cup her buttocks, massaging the flesh. 

“Yes,” Jennie whines, “Please.” 

You’re getting closer and closer, and it’s helping almost too well that Jennie mumbles the dirtiest things, too explicit that if it was anyone else, they’d run away. 

It’s you though, too turned on by her body and her words that as soon as the words breed me daddy fall from her lips you lose it. Your orgasm crashes through your body. You sit up as Jennie continues working herself over your cock, feeling you release, wailing, whimpering as it floods her. 

Jennie’s body seizes in your hold, back arching as her walls suddenly spasm around your length, prolonging your orgasm. You swear her pussy’s pulsing and your vision goes white, holding her  tightly against your chest as you rut into her. 

Her teeth sink into your shoulder, the pain adding to the pleasure, as she fails miserably to muffle her scream. You pray to whatever higher beings there are that the others aren’t on their way back yet because she’s loud.

You gasp for air as her chest heaves on top of yours. 

You weren’t expecting to have sex this weekend, let alone Jennie of all people. You’ve toned down on the nights with random women, something Rosie and Lisa commend you for. It wasn’t without question, which you were honest that you wanted to at least try to have another relationship. 

You rub soothingly over Jennie’s skin, body slightly shivering at the contact as goosebumps form underneath your touch.

“Hi,” Jennie mumbles against your neck, still a bit breathy as she catches her breath. 

“Hi yourself,” You squeeze the pliable muscle, molding against your hand. “You’re okay, right?” You’re concerned because you both went a little—a lot—rough on each other’s bodies. 

“Yes,” Jennie taps your nose playfully. “I forgot how big you were.”

The thing is, her position hasn’t changed. The comment goes straight to your head and your cock throbs, already overly sensitive, along Jennie’s warm, snug walls. 

Naturally, she feels it, letting out a surprised moan that has her burying her face back into your neck. 

“Sorry,” You breathe out, the only word you could properly form. 

“You’re such a guy,” Jennie chuckles. “Immediately reacting to hearing anything related to your dick size.” 

You apologize again, which she tells you it’s okay. Casually mentioning that you’re the biggest she’s ever had anyways. You lift her off you, hissing as your cock feels like it can breathe after suffocating inside Jennie. 

“Ass,” Jennie says simply, rolling off you to perfectly slot her head on your shoulder. 

Maybe it’s the hormones. Or maybe it’s the denial. 

Reality soon sets in as you just had sex with your ex-girlfriend. You even had the nerve to play into your favorite dynamic. 

“Jen-” Two fingers are on your lips. 

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Jennie says quietly. 

“But-” You try to say something, but the gentle press stops you. 

“I know we have to talk, but I’m sore and exhausted,” Jennie sighs. The crack of twigs and leaves alerts your brain. “We’ll talk. We obviously have to, but later okay?” Rosie’s singing something off tune, and it’s louder than it was a few moments ago.

“Okay,” Is all you can say, as her fingers trail along your jawline. It’s an intimate move, turning your head the slightest to feel the gentle pressure of Jennie’s lips against yours. 

--

You wake up alone in the tent, the sound of the girls laughing disrupts your sleep. You rub your eyes as soon as you walk out, the conversation falling quiet. 

“Good morning, oppa,” Alice greets as you yawn. 

You send a lazy wave, searching for a seat, which ironically was in between Jennie and Lisa. You notice Jennie’s wearing one of the sweaters you packed. You also notice how it’s zipped to the top, completely covering her neck. 

“You missed out last night,” Rosie picks up where the conversation left off. “We were just telling Jennie how Lisa unintentionally walked away with Lia’s phone number.” 

“I didn’t know she was into girls,” Lisa defends, shaking her head. 

“It’s okay,” Jisoo pats her on the head. “The one time you don’t try to get a girl’s number, you do. Take it for what it is.”

It earns you a chuckle as Alice hands you a plate, a grateful smile sent her way as you realize how hungry you are. 

“Well, at least I can take oppa with me,” Lisa shrugs. 

“Uh what? I’m not going to be some third wheel,” You say after taking a bite. 

“No, dumb dumb,” Rosie scoffs. “Ryujin. She was totally into you.” 

From the corner of your eye, Jennie’s body tenses. 

It goes unnoticed by the others, too engrossed with the conversation, but you’ve always been acutely aware of how Jennie feels. She acts cold and distant with most people, but it’s all part of a façade. It especially breaks down when it involves you. Everyone knew when she was upset with you because she wore it on her face. 

“Oh well-”

“You seemed pretty interested,” Alice comments behind her mug. 

“I was just being nice,” You weren’t interested to an extent. Under different circumstances, the probability of something happening was high. You cared more about how Jennie, and that paid off.  

“You’re always being nice,” Lisa raises her hands, both sets of index and middle fingers bending flexing twice. 

Jennie’s standing again, which you don’t understand why this woman can’t just sit still. You sense her irritation rolling in your direction. You internally sigh as her attitude, this early in the morning, was more a nuisance than anything. 

You don’t say anything when Jennie tells the group that she’s going to take a shower at the community center. For what it’s worth, it’s like a spa with private baths and showers the size of your tiny one-bedroom apartment. She hardly glances your way, but there’s something in your gut telling you to go with her. 

After you finish eating, of course. 

--

Your head snaps back, groaning as it hits the bathroom tile. You watch how Jennie’s eyes never leave yours and it’s taking everything in you not to cum right then and there. 

Her mouth is dangerous and she knows it. 

“Daddy,” Jennie sucks in a breath, keeping her hand wrapped tightly around your cock. “I have a question for you.” 

Her innocent expression pales in comparison to what her hand’s actually doing. She languidly strokes your cock. Too lost in the sensation that you almost don’t hear her question. 

“What?” You ask. 

“Are you going to go on a date with Ryujin?” Jennie asks, leaning ever so slight to run her tongue along your length.

It clicks why Jennie suddenly appeared in your private shower. There’s a somewhat strict policy about men and women showers, but when you heard a knock on your door, you weren’t expecting her to be on the other side. 

Jennie didn’t answer why she was there when you asked, but her dropping to her knees as soon as you shut the door, it was obvious she had a plan in mind. 

“Staking your claim on me already?” You quip, hand cupping her face. It’s not the smartest move to taunt her, especially with her hand wrapped around you. 

Jennie clicks her tongue, rolling her eyes, “Like there’s anything to claim.” 

“And if I do?” You trail your finger along her jawline, watching her eyes narrow in the process. “What’re you going to do about it?” 

The thing with Jennie, that she’ll deny to you and swear up and down to anyone else, is that she gets jealous. You learned that very quickly when you started dating. She wouldn’t say anything if a girl spoke to you, but afterwards when you were alone, she’d remind you that you were hers. 

She’s naturally possessive of you, and you reaped the benefits in some sick power play she’d try to carry out. 

“You won’t,” Jennie’s mouth wraps around your cock, her tongue doing things that need to be studied because it feels too good. 

“Why is that princess?” You ask as she takes you in deeper. 

Instead of answering, Jennie goes lower, your tip hitting the back of her throat. She fucking swallows around your cock and it has your muscles tensing. You have to make sure you don’t go too far, as much as you want to, because it’s still been a while. She repeats the movement, letting off the slightest before taking more of you in. She keeps her mouth tight around your girth, hollowing out her cheeks that has you feel lightheaded. 

“I bet Ryujin could take all of me,” You goad, watching as her pace increases, fucking your cock down her throat. “She could be my princess next.”

It’s a dirty move, but an empty threat. Jennie knows at her core that only she’s deemed worthy of that name. 

But it has the best results as she takes all of you. Her lips press against your pubic bone, staring up at you and it’s a beautiful sight to see your ex-girlfriend’s face stuffed with your cock. 

Jennie holds it for what feels like a lifetime before slowly bobbing her head up. “Don’t be a fucking ass.” 

“Then prove me wrong.”

(She does, exploding on her face a minute later.)

--

“You two are being weird,” Rosie comments as you grill the meat. 

“What?” You ask distractedly to make sure the bulgogi doesn’t burn unevenly. 

“You and Jennie.”

“What are you talking about?” You set the tongs down after flipping the pieces. 

“I can’t put my finger on it yet, but there’s something different about you two.” 

You don’t respond, feigning being busy by unwrapping the other meats. 

Sure, you had sex last night. And sure, Jennie made a mess of you in the showers, but you couldn’t exactly tell your friends that. Their reaction is something you’re not prepared for yet.

“But you two aren’t fighting right? I know that you were already reluctant about this whole trip, and the sleeping arrangements were a bust, but it isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, right?”

Definitely not is what you want to say, but you know Rosie wouldn’t let you get away with saying that. 

“No, not fighting. We’re making it work,” You answer vaguely. 

It is the last night of the trip, which thankfully the group decided on having a calmer night since you have to trek back to the city in the morning. 

“Good,” Rosie nods approvingly. “Hopefully everything will still be okay when we get back.” 

--

You have a nice buzz going as you settle in your sleeping bag. Jennie slips herself next to you, slotting a leg over yours before curling into your side. You smell the alcohol from her breath as she sighs contentedly. 

She’s a bit drunk compared to you, thanks to Lisa offering shots with dinner. She practically sat on your lap in front of everyone that it surprised you, but the others even more. Rosie gave you a pointed look, realizing that something did happen between you two, but thankfully doesn’t comment. 

“I want you,” Jennie murmurs against your neck, breathing warm air against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you know now is not the time. She drives a hard bargain to not take her right then and there when she says, “I’m so wet for you. Having you cum all over me earlier left me wanting more.”

“Princess not now,” You gulp, cock stirring at the words. “There’s people here.” 

“So? You don’t want them to hear how well you fuck me?” Jennie’s hand sneaks over your crotch, palming you gently. “They always wanted to know, but I wouldn’t say. I didn’t want them to know the things you’d do to me.” 

Your cock rises at the thought. She smiles against your neck, slipping a hand underneath your sweats as the contrast of her cold hand against your throbbing length has you suck in a breath. 

“Remember how I’d beg, offering my body to you to do whatever you want?” She whispers seductively. “I’d do it again. You know how much I love the stretch of you taking what’s yours. You know how much I love when you cum in me, on me, making a fucking mess of me.”

You clear your throat, trying to keep some semblance of control. You feel lightheaded at the thought of doing all those things to her. “Jen, you’re drunk.”

“So?” Jennie’s hand wraps around you, slowly stroking your cock. “Drunk or sober. It’s never stopped us before. Drunk sex was especially good. Remember when you fucked me in the ass? The only person to ever do that. I was fucking ruined after.” 

“Jesus fuck,” You grit out as her grip gets tighter. That night was fun. She let you have her however you wanted, and you’ve always had a thing for her sweet bottom. Those little cheeks made beautiful sounds as you pounded away. “Behave.” 

“Fine,” Jennie huffs, pulling her hand away. She places her hand on your chest, curling into you more. 

“I’ll make it up to you when we get back,” You offer, kissing her forehead. 

“Promise?” 

“Yes.”

One you very much intend to keep.

--

--

Jennie squirms in your hold, hips shaking, pussy quivering along your cock as you steady her. 

“Daddy come on,” She moans out, head falling on your sheets as she tries to get you to move. “You promised you’d make it up to me.” 

You did. You will. Just not right now. You’re just taking in the moment of her wrapped oh so tightly around you that you want to enjoy it before you absolutely ruin her. 

Jennie was over your place an hour after you dropped off the siblings. Rosie grilled you on what the hell happened, but you remained strong and did not say a word. She wouldn’t drop it, which annoyed you, but you knew you wouldn’t say anything unless you spoke with Jennie first. 

And you were actually able to have a somewhat productive conversation about what you were doing. She didn’t want to be made a fool again, which you swore nothing like would happen. You’re both older, more settled into your careers, that this—whatever this was—was more stable. She saw how much the break-up affected you, but ego got in the way to want to reconcile. You understood, the thought of her walking in with someone that wasn’t you, would’ve scarred you for life. 

“I’m not going to make it easy for you,” Jennie said, standing over you, pulling you up.

“I don’t expect anything less,” You whispered, a quiet promise made to whatever higher being there was that you were absolutely not going to fuck this up.

“Good,” And she dragged you towards your room. 

Jennie’s getting antsy, but the sight of your cock in between her legs is one you could never tire of. You wish your phone was nearby, capturing this to save for later. 

But you’ll do that later. 

“Daddy,” Jennie huffs, arching her back to get you deeper, but you press your body weight into her, keeping your cock snug within her walls. “You promised.” 

“I know princess,” You trail a hand down her spine, watching her body shiver from the contact. “You just look so good,” Her pussy tightens. 

“I’ll look better once you move,” Jennie gasps as you roll your hips. “Do you want me to beg? I will if that’s what’ll get you to fuck—”

You don’t let her finish her sentence, thrusting your hips deeper that her body jolts at the sudden movement. You lean forward, just enough to kiss the top of her head, hair pressed against your lips as you murmur, “Oh princess, you’ll be begging me to stop.” 

You stand up straight, slowly pulling your hips back, and watch, entranced, as your cock slides out. It’s slick from Jennie, and you’ve never seen anything hotter. You let out a sigh as you feel her contract around the tip. She moans and something snaps inside you that you suddenly thrust back in. 

Jennie squeals at the pressure, letting out a filthy moan that has you groaning. Your body moves on its own accord, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her pussy that has you seeing stars. 

“You’re so fucking big,” Jennie moans, pants, as she starts to babble nonsense as her walls accommodate to your girth. “I need it daddy. I’ve been so fucking wet.”

Her walls rhythmically squeeze every time you bottom out. It doesn’t stop you. It makes you chase the feeling, an addiction that you wouldn’t mind having. 

You lose yourself in her body, watching her bite her lip and lose her breath as she grabs onto the sheets. Hearing your name fall from her lips wakes something up in you.The sounds she makes drive you to thrust into her, and when you hit a certain spot inside, she demands you don’t stop. You don’t break rhythm as she squirms. You grab her hips, letting out groans of your own as you feel your orgasm coming. 

Her hands grip the sheet, wrinkling the fabric as your pace quickens, hitting every single nerve inside her has your body on fire. She lets you fuck her at whatever pace you want. Slow then fast then grind before it has her hips meeting yours perfectly in sync. 

“Fucking hell, princess,” You groan, ceasing your movement as you watch Jennie’s hips roll and grind on your cock, finding every which angle to take you. “You’re being so fucking good. Are you trying to make me cum?” 

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jennie chants like a prayer, turning her head so her cheek rests against the fabric. “I want it. Cum in me daddy, breed me like the good girl I am.” 

You’re close to the point of no return, especially with the way her pussy contracts at every thrust. She’s doing everything to suck you in and it’s working. You plant your foot on the edge of your bed, increasing your tempo tenfold as the sound of skin hitting gets louder. You’re fucking into her, nailing her onto your bed as her knees slide, opening her up as you jack hammer through her walls. 

“Oh shit, baby,” The nickname falls from her lips, “Baby, I’m going to fucking cum.”

It was a short warning because after three thrusts, Jennie’s body tenses, back wildly arching as her pussy tightens, knocking the wind out of you. Your body falls on top of hers, hips erratically snapping before you meet your end. 

Jennie growls, pushing her hips up into yours to take everything you have to offer. She does a nasty move by humping back onto your cock, short small thrusts that have you pushing your cum deeper inside her pussy. 

“More, daddy,” She keeps moving, hips never ceasing. Her words of I want you to ruin me keeps you hard.

With a sudden burst of energy, you push yourself up, pulling out of her. You ignore the small whine she lets out, flipping her body over. She’s almost too responsive with your touch by the way she spreads her legs wide, knees falling open. 

You grab your cock, aiming your tip at her opening before flicking the head on top of her clit. She mewls, eyes rolling back. You can’t wait anymore. In one swift movement, your cock enters her without warning. Her eyes shoot back to yours, letting out a scream as you pound into her.

Your hands perch on her knees, holding her open as her tits bounce with every thrust. One hand sneaks in between, rapidly rubbing her clit that her eyes shoot open wide. 

“Baby,” Her voice comes out hoarse. “I-It’s too much.”

Jennie’s all fucked out, hands gripping your forearms as her legs flail out. You’re hardly paying her any attention, too focused on your cock splitting her open. 

“Your pussy’s too good,” You don’t care how crass it sounds. Your thoughts are wild right now, and you can’t help but say all of them out loud. “I can’t get enough. How the hell did you keep this from me? I missed this.”

“I missed you,” Jennie says affectionately, scratching lightly. 

“God, keep squeezing me like that princess,” You’re thrusting wildly, applying more pressure on her clit as you rub. 

Her orgasm catches both of you off guard, her eyes widening as she screams, her walls forcing you out before a sudden gush of liquid sprays your cock. You react fast, forcing your way through your walls as the hot, tight feeling has you hitting your peak again. 

You’re greedy though so once you start to release, you pull out, quickly jerking your shaft as ropes of cum shoot out. You aim for her quivering pussy, before painting her stomach. White droplets spraying over her skin has you easing your cock back inside for a moment. Her walls milk whatever’s left before you collapse next to her. 

You’re trying to catch your breath that you don’t even feel her move, but your cock’s suddenly enveloped by something warm and wet that your head snaps back. Your hand easily threads through her hair, guiding her gently as she licks around and over your cock. 

“Princess,” You pant, the stimulation being too much even for you. “What’re you doing?” 

“Cleaning up the mess on daddy’s cock,” Jennie answers simply, tongue lapping your tip. 

Once Jennie’s satisfied, she pecks the top of your cock, humming to herself before kissing your stomach. She crawls above you, swinging a leg over your body before resting her head in the crook of your neck. 

“I’m still horny,” Jennie whines, kissing underneath your jaw. 

“Jennie,” You sigh, bone dead as your thumb gently rubs her inner thigh. 

“This is your fault, you know,” Jennie says out of the blue. 

“What did I do?” 

“If you didn’t know how to fuck me, I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jennie mumbles shyly. 

“Well, I’m sorry?” You offer, even though you’re not. 

“Whatever,” Jennie huffs as your eyes close. “I’m still not going out with you.”

“I haven’t even asked yet.” 

“You’re going to, and my answer will be no,” Jennie states matter-of-factly. 

You roll your eyes, chuckling, “I’m sure it will be, but I could probably get a yes sooner if I withhold sex—ow!” 

Jennie pinches you. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“You’re so demanding.” 

“Yeah, well,” Jennie pushes herself up, face in front of yours, “You’ll have no choice but to deal with it.”

Deal. 

--

--

--

(kinda left it at where there could be a prequel and/or sequel, but meh, we'll see.

serious thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed my previous stories. i'll see ya in the next one, whenever that may be.)

#blackpink smut #blackpink jennie #blackpink kim jennie #blackpink jennie kim #jennie smut #kim jennie smut #kim jennie

[biboomerangboi]

My friend was watching the show for the first time and they brought up a misconception that I think we see a lot in fandom. So I want to talk about The Gamblers Den and specifically this scene in particular:

My friend genuinely wondered what Hua Cheng would do and then when they heard his explanation they were even more confused:

They basically messaged me saying, wait Hua Cheng would have made the bet. He bets people’s lives and some how Xie Lian is okay with that. How???

And to anyone else who’s thinking the same thing or falling for the Demon King vibe Hua Cheng is trying to sell here I am here to tell you, you have all been duped.

What’s import to understand is that Ghost City actually came from making one of Xie Lian’s ideas work:

Xie Lian is talking about a specialised market here, a place where the common people couldn’t just stumble into without reason and that’s what Ghost City is and The Gambers Den is the foundation of it. While Xie Lian didn’t say hey go gamble, Hua Cheng is taking a risk and playing into his greatest strength and then showing of for his crush is the most dramatic way possible when talking about it.

For Hua Cheng the house always wins! Literally. Or at least what he wants the bet to be will always happen. His luck is just that good. If the gambler wins it’s genuinely because Hua Cheng let him.

In the Den he is acting as Judge and Jury with Xie Lian as his moral code but he can’t just turn down the deals. If he does then these people could go to less safe options (looking at you Qi Rong) to get what they desire which negates the reason he built Ghost City in the first place.

Hua Cheng has to let these people play by his rules if he wants to follow his Gods wishes. So he has to be creative and look at loop holes, phrasing and Xie Lians most important teaching finding the third path.

For this moment specifically giving the options I think Hua Cheng would have taken the 20 years of his daughter’s life. Why you may ask? Well the phrasing is easier to manipulate. While the eradication of his competitors is pretty well laid 20 years of his daughters life is pretty vague.

Option 1) Hua Cheng could take her away from her shit father and put her in an apprenticeship and marry a man of her choosing since her hand is now her own to decide since Hua Cheng doesn’t want it.

Option 2) She has to work in Ghost City for 20 years and is married to Yin Yu in name only (because Hua Cheng can’t have a wife at all or he won’t win Gege) then gets pleasantly divorced and giving a severance payment after 20 years.

Option 3) He could decide life is a vague term and after she dies she has to spend 20 years in Ghost City and matchmake a future marriage between her and another ghost.

Option 4) He could decide what she has to do with the next twenty years of her life which could include an actual good marriage and education. Where she has to worship his shrine and be only his devotee for 20 years.

Option 5) He can literally say I’ll collect when I decide and never cash in.

He can do anything because the wording is so fluent and for Hua Cheng debater and Civil God Killer it’s probably easy. He’s not a demon king, he’s a crafty trickster spirit basically a fae lord.

He’s playing the system and he’s winning that’s what Xie Lian figured out and why he supports it. He knows Hua Cheng well enough even back then to trust that he would make the right decision because he believes in Hua Cheng and he’s right too.

#Hua Cheng literally tore out his own eye to spare innocents because of Xie Lian he’s not messing around here #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hua cheng #xie lian #hualian #heaven official's blessing #tgcf meta #Hualian meta #Hua Cheng meta #heavens official blessing #zee rambles #zees 2am posts

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

#tim hasn't seen shit cause he never sleeps but he has the same energy level to get shit done #dc x dp crossover #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #dinah lance #nocturn haunts the JL #its up to you to get angsty with the demand he made in exchange for helping team phantom #nocturn is such a fun villain concept but like he's an information outlet so... #Lots could go right or wrong with this plan #tim drake x sleep is something i'll never ship tho #fentons working with GIW could be as benign or evil as wanted #is jazz in peril after this??? PERHAPS

[sukunas-wife]

the Dadkuna series is great!!! Sukuna isn’t my main character that I like in jjk but this series has me SAT and WAITING for the next upload! I’ve always wondered though what momkuna and dadkuna’s relationship dynamic is. We get that sort of in how they met but what about when their relationship is established? I get the sense that obviously dadkuna would quite literally do anything for her but what exactly goes through his mind when he thinks about her?

Oh? Guess whose back 😎🤧

Me- I’m sickly too 🤭 but! The blog is picking up 🥺 and I’ve been working on this for a good time so here you go 🤍🤍🤍

(Indentions are thoughts, things he didn’t actively say out loud 🥺🤍)

Lord Ryomen Sukuna, though emotionally stunted and constipated, loves his wife. Would level cities and kill men easily if she didn’t have such a strong hold in him.

But he’s a misogynist at heart to an extent. He wants you at home with his kids being his cute little wife that he knows he can always come home to. It was your overwhelming passion for helping women who couldn’t bear children that convinced him he could let you live your life, as long as he knew he had people there to look over you when he couldn’t.

He appreciates the fact that when he’s tired, covered in blood that’s not his own, and carrying the exhaustion of his war ridden day, there you are rushing to him when he enters his temple. Disregarding your fine silk robes and the blood partly way on his body. The way you cling to him, always so happy and relieved to see him come home.

The first time he came home after being gone for so long, he remembers how you cried and held on to him, your anguished filled cries when you cried about how you thought he was never coming back, how you were scared he’d left you alone. He remembers how his hands found your waits holding you a bit away, another hand coming to cup your face, thumb wiping away your tears when he looked at you with tired eyes, “It would take the militia of this land's greatest sorcerers to even consider preventing my way back to your embrace.” Your teary eyes softened before you buried your face in his chest again hugging him and clinging to him.

He longed for that feeling of your embrace whenever he would leave you behind, he could deny it but on his way home to you, his heart ached and longed to feel your embrace and hear your praises of how he had returned. You cried no more because you were filled with that confidence he would always return.

——————

He’s a traditional man with his one form of values, not once did he long for sexual pleasure or was he consumed with lust. Misery, pain and the screams of his victims fueled him and filled him with an immense pleasure no woman’s body could ever possibly offer him.

They were all the same, sultry, scandalous, attention seeking harlots, prostitutes and women. Thinking they could better their lives if they could slip into his bed. They were wrong, every woman who he allowed to enter his bed chamber under these pretences had walked in with starry eyes and ambition. Only to cry and scream for their life while he slowly dug his nails into their flesh tearing them all apart, slowly and agonisingly. That was until he saw you that one day, any girl of age would’ve started to present themselves to him in shy or subtle ways hoping to catch his eyes. There you were kneeling out of respect in his presence, scared you had offended your lord.

‘Oh? Is this little morsel afraid?’ Fear filled and humbling yourself before him. You couldn’t look at him, there wasn’t an ounce of “I want to sleep with this man.” And yet these feelings caused a sentiment in the depths of his chest, something stirred inside him, you head captured his interest (non sexual at this point). ‘Hmm?, this will be a fine pet to break.’

You were a phenomenon in the temple, one he wanted to study, to take into his clawed hands and mould, twist, stretch and push to the edge and then just over the point of breaking to see what would become of you. Yet, once he had you in hands reach, once you were close enough for him to graze your skin with his nails… he didn’t treat you like a common daisy or water Lilly, no he took you into his hands like a Lotus floating on the water's surface. Making elegant work and taking care of your delicate bloom. You would be his delicate lotus that no one else would ever take the joy in having.

——————

“My gratifying queen, My delicate lotus, My benevolent wife.” Words he doesn’t speak so freely, he whispers them against your skin whenever you’d sleep by his side.

Delicate words and honeyed names had never once crossed his mind in his existence. Yet here he was, allowing himself to indulge in the smallest amount of vulnerability with these words. The press of his feverish kisses against your neck and cheeks between every word.

‘My little beloved pet, so tired, sleeping away the wares of today. How could something so small and insignificant like you cause this shift in my existence hm?’

The back of his hand brushing hair away from your face, nails grazing the side of your face lightly, he held you in his embrace watching you. Two arms securely around you, one supporting his head, the other kept grazing your skin. You’d stir in your sleep when he shifted slightly away from you to lay on his back. You’d become so used to his body heat even on the hottest days you’d search him out half awake.

‘My little lotus,’ he closed the space between you, pulling you into his side again, ‘rest your weary head without worries of tomorrow, I’m here to hold you now.’

He wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t even know it at that moment, but he was absolutely smitten with you in ways he had yet to comprehend. But it showed in his subconscious movements. A hand on your lower back or waist guiding you, knowing you’re close and safe.

Bringing home little jewels and trinkets he’d usually never spare a second glance . That is until a stone sparkles in the light of his flames and he stops briefly to take a close look.

My queen would look Devine with these adorning her neck. These stones would make fine pieces for my wife.

It was a shock when he came home one night waking you when he sat on the bed. You sat up sleepily while he handed you a bag of precious stones and jewels telling you he had brought you a gift, a free hand of his brushing your hair back and bringing you closer by the back of your head so he could kiss your lips.

——————

It was your wedding, there you were standing beside him in the Ceremonial Robes. You stood on his right, his eyes looking down at you.

Hmm, What an enticing display, to have my little pet dressed up so exquisitely for all to see and admire.

Even more enticing to know soon you’ll be round with my child, what an ethereal sight you will be laid out in silk robes and swollen carrying my legacy

My delicate little lotus, my malevolent queen, my gratifying and honourable wife. Perhaps these thoughts never be spoken aloud with heavy sentiment. But I vow myself to you in this instant, that I will do all to assure our future, our health, our children and our endless lives.

I will assure your hand never be left cold nor alone as long as I can take it. nor will it ever be lifted in vain or to labour. Your stomach is never empty as I will assure you have the finest wine and a feast every night if it’s what your little human heart desires, your head will always have a place to rest even if it is only on my chest. Your nights will never be cold, your days will never be short, your loneliness will exist no longer, and your heart will be mine, and mine will be yours.

It wasn’t all he told himself, but it was in the moment you felt a warm sensation against your skin, on your chest below the centre of your collar bone but above your breast was the same mark you’d seen on his tongue very few times.

Ryomen Sukuna DID NOT enjoy the thought of staining your teeth black, instead he took your hand, as if vowing and brains you, the ring finger of your left hand, the base faded to a black band, above it a snark mark matching your chest and another thin black bank, just below your nail was another black band. That’s how your little husband decided to present you as his.

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken :( @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

#sukunas wife #sukunas wife speaks #daddy sukuna #🤍mail time #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk anime #ryomen sukuna #sukuna thirst #sukuna x reader #sukuna x wife reader #sukuna x you #yuji and mom reader #sukunas wife’s ask #sukunation #dadkuna #soft sukuna #yuji x mom reader #jjk sukuna ryomen #son yuji #sukuna nation #son yuji mom reader #sukuna fluff #jjk ryomen sukuna #dad sukuna son yuji #true form sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #heian era sukuna #soft sukuna x reader

[f1byjessie]

A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.

sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.

( lando norris x photographer!reader )

━━ part nine.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 714,148 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren As we get closer and closer to the start of the 2024 season, we thought we’d take the time to introduce new fans to the team that works behind the scenes! Starting us off, we have Y/N L/N, our personal paddock photographer! Y/N has been here with us at McLaren since 2019, and is the genius mind behind many of the photos we’ve posted throughout the years. She’s an important part of our community and helps tremendously in not only capturing our drivers in action, but also in getting the other behind the scenes members of our team the recognition they deserve. We’re glad to have her back here with us in Bahrain, and we can’t wait to see what beautiful concoctions she comes up with this year! 🧡

view all 9,147 comments

user if there is 100 y/n fans, i am one of them. if there is one y/n fan, it is me. if there are no y/n fans, i have died.

user love love LOVE that mclaren takes the time to recognize the hard work of everyone who supports the drivers

↳ user i feel like f1 promotes the racers, team principals, and pit crew so much and forgets about everyone else that makes sure these teams are able to function so seamlessly

user CAN WE GET A MEET THE ADMIN POST TOO??? 👀👀👀

user i bumped into y/n back in silverstone 2021, like literally bumped into her, and she was so sweet!!

user she’s my photography inspo 🤩

user her dedication to the mclaren team is so apparent when you think about the fact that she DOESN’T get the same recognition as the drivers, but she has chosen to work for them for what will be 6 years as of this season. she could have easily move to a different formula 1 team or even another sport entirely, but she still comes back and that’s a dedicated artist

↳ user the fact that she did a little stint over at manchester city fc and STILL chose to come back to mclaren even tho i imagine f1 has a much harsher and stricter schedule with the intercontinental travel than football does

user this is who we have to thank for all those beautiful shots of lando??? cuz if so, bless her omg 🙏🙏🙏

user in this household we appreciate the crew that works tirelessly to keep us entertained

user so tired of seeing ppl disregard her skill as a photographer just bc of who she’s dating

↳ user OMG SAME

yourusername glad to be here, can’t wait to travel the world with these amazing people 🧡

INSTAGRAM.

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 214,051 others

tagged: mclaren

yourusername locked in and ready 😎

view all 1,514 comments

oscarpiastri so glad you’ve gotten over your temporary obsession with blue 😁

↳ yourusername so glad you haven’t lost your ability to get on my last nerve 😁

↳ oscarpiastri so glad you’re still insufferable even on your best days 😁

↳ yourusername now that’s a comeback i can be proud of 🥹

user MISSED THESE LADS OH MY DAYS

user ONE DAY UNTIL TESTING GUYS

user oscar looking fine asf these days 😩 that winter break treated him well

mclaren The boys are back in town!

↳ yourusername dare i say my milkshake brought them to the yard?

↳ mclaren It certainly called us 😍

↳ yourusername you flatter me mclaren admin 😌

↳ mclaren Only the best for our best 😘

user that’s some pretty intense eye contact from lando in the last image…

↳ user he ain’t even looking at the camera

↳ user nah bruv is def looking at y/n 👀👀

↳ user I NEED THEM TO GET OVER WHATEVER HAPPENED AND GO BACK TO BEING FRIENDS CUZ I MISS THE BANTER IN THE COMMENTS

↳ user i think we should probably respect their privacy and understand that something happened (presumably in the off season) that we weren’t privy to. so long as they can both maintain professionalism around one another, they don’t have to do or “get over” anything. does it suck to see two very close friends no longer get along in the way they used to? absolutely. but we don’t know what happened or if anything even did happen. in the event that something did, we don’t know who’s involved or who, if anyone, is at fault. they’re both justified in choosing to end a friendship due to a falling out, or even if they just grew distant. but even as i say all of this, it’s still speculation.

↳ user we don’t actually know if they aren’t friends any longer or if they’ve just moved their friendship off of online platforms. it should be noted that y/n is very publicly dating someone, and idk about you, but i know firsthand how delusional fans can be. her bf’s fans could easily attack her over banter with another man, and lando’s fans could just as easily start reading into that same banter which runs the very real possibility of putting all three of them in an awkward situation where y/n is being shipped with a man that ISN’T her bf.

↳ user what about the banter she has with the mclaren admin? 🤔

↳ user context is super important here. the flirting between y/n and the mclaren admin is very obviously fake. it has been from the beginning, and when ppl “ship” the two of them together it’s for the bit and to play along with their fake bromance. lando and y/n have both been legitimately shipped together since they both started working with mclaren, which changes the undertone of the shipping comments bc ppl often genuinely misconstrue their banter as REAL flirting.

user why do comment sections related to y/n always turn into debate sessions

↳ user REAL like ain’t no way i’m reading all that

user oscar’s hair sticking up in every picture is my roman empire

user I’VE BEEN MISSING THE ORANGE I’M SO GLAD IT’S BACK 🧡🧡🧡

user wait i didn’t even realize until now that this is the first post in like a month that’s actually had public comments turned on

↳ user probably bc her bf’s loser fans have finally stopped harassing her

jackgrealish must be nice having all that sun 😒

↳ yourusername it really is, bet you’re jealous

Testing goes fine, until it doesn’t.

“A drain cover?” Lando’s voice echoes across the garage. “Another fucking drain cover?”

You purse your lips.

Yesterday, he’d been upset on Oscar’s behalf when they’d cancelled the remainder of the morning session after only a couple hours to solve the problem of the track’s dislodged pieces. He’d complained and cussed out the incompetence, and then reassured Oscar that things would be better for the third day.

But the third day is here now, and he’s even more upset now being told to pit after a measly thirty minutes for the same issue.

“This is the second fucking time━” he cuts himself off with an angry huff and runs his hands roughly through the curls of his hair, letting his fingers catch on the tangles and yanking through them in his frustration. Sweat glistens on his furrowed brow. His cheeks are still flushed from the heat of the car.

It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from him since you’ve come back.

The time you’ve already spent in Bahrain has been stilted at best. Lando continues to stick with his attempts at avoiding you, but it’s harder to do so here when your hotel rooms are on the same floor and you’re limited to the confines of the garage for most of the day. Even when he isn’t in the car, there’s not a lot to do wandering around the paddock and even if there was they’ve encouraged him to stay where he can easily be reached.

You’re trying not to be smug about it, but every time you glance over your shoulder and catch him watching you━ catch him quickly looking away when your eyes meet and he realizes he’s been caught━ you feel pleased.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Lando, it’s that he’s always got a limit.

If you wait long enough, stand your ground and prove that you really have no intentions whatsoever of giving in and breaking the ice between the two of you, eventually he’ll cave. When he realizes he won’t get what he wants, that he’ll have to actually put in the effort to repair what he’s broken rather than having it magically fix itself, he’ll have no other choice but to do so.

“They might not cancel the session,” Oscar chimes in, attempting to placate his aggravated teammate. “Since they already had to yesterday, I doubt they’ll do it again today.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually calm Lando down at all. If anything, it just reminds him again of the fact that this is the second time this same complication has happened which has him huffing angrily again and running his hands through his tangled curls even rougher.

You wince at that.

Andrea, McLaren’s team principal, steps forward. “Take a breath,” he orders, resting a heavy hand on Lando’s shoulder. “Go walk a lap around the garage or something, whatever, but I need you to calm down.”

You’re prepared for that to be the end of it, but then Andrea looks over and catches your eye. “Y/N,” he says, nodding his head towards Lando. “You go with him. Keep him out of trouble.”

Well.

You like to think you do a much better job at keeping your emotions off of your face than Lando, which isn’t hard when his features scrunch up into a pained scowl at Andrea’s words, but you can feel the pinch of your own eyebrows furrowing and the smile you send towards the team principal probably looks more like a grimace if Oscar pursed lips in your peripherals is anything to go by.

Lando storms out and you follow reluctantly after him.

He can’t really go very far, not if he wants to be within a reasonable distance when━ if━ they call him back to continue the morning testing session. So he paces back and forth and back and forth just outside the garage’s exit out into the paddock.

Your phone tells you that ten minutes pass like this. It’s the longest you’ve been alone with him in a while and his distraction lets you focus on the finer details that you’ve missed when he’s going out of his way to avoid you.

There are deep, dark, bruise-like circles that hang heavily beneath his eyes. His skin is sun-kissed and tanned from his time out catching rays during his travels, but there’s a pale pallor beneath the added color that makes him look sick. Despite his current anger and the tension coiled in his muscles just waiting to lash out and strike, his shoulders seem to droop beneath the invisible weight of whatever he’s carrying with him.

He looks small.

Lando’s always been on the shorter side, but he’s never before looked small. Not like this. Never like this.

The longer you watch, the more the back and forth pacing starts to transform into the anxious stride of a cornered animal.

You aren’t arrogant enough to assume he’s like this because of you entirely, but it does occur to you that maybe he’s having just as rough of a time as you are with the newfound distance between yourselves.

You watch him silently, for a little while longer, observing the way his stride hitches every few steps and he just barely manages to stop himself from stumbling over his own feet. He’s still running his hands through his hair. By the seventh time he practically claws his fingers through his curls you heave a sigh.

“Quit that,” you snap.

“Quit what?” He fires back with just as much bite.

You roll your eyes. “You’re gonna rip your hair out if you keep pulling on it like that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he stops in his tracks and turns on his heel to face you with a sneer. His words drip with sarcasm. “I forgot you must be used to Grealish now, right? And I bet he’s got at least a ten-step hair care routine. I wonder, does he use unicorn sweat and essence of rainbow to keep it that smooth and bright? There’s no other possible way!”

“You’re being an asshole, Lando.”

“My sincerest apologies,” he says. “How could I ever think Grealish would use unicorn sweat of all things? He uses pixies tears, my mistake.”

You’re not sure how a few words managed to turn into this━ you’d just wanted him to stop pulling at his hair. It looked painful and he’s always been a bit tender headed. Now, instead, you can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and it seems like Lando’s frustrations about the testing delay, and your friendship with Jack apparently, have made things worse.

Like throwing gasoline onto a flame.

You scowl, “Seriously. You’re being a fucking prick.”

He throws his arms up into the air, “Why not just run off to Grealish then? Since he seems to be your new best friend and you tell him everything.”

If your life were a movie, this is the moment in time when the stars would align and fate would force everything to position itself perfect in place. Like the pieces of a puzzle, it would all work out and you’d calmly explain to Lando what happened back in January with Garrett and Manchester City, and he’d understand immediately and apologize, and you’d hug it out and then both return to the garage just in time for them to announce the testing session would re-commence.

But your life isn’t a movie, and reality feels significantly different to the scripted perfection of fiction.

The precarious security of the perch you’ve settled yourself upon comes crashing down, and the tentative balance you’ve managed to maintain since the start of February when you were back in papaya again shatters with it. Something inside you snaps. The dam has burst and everything held back comes rushing to the front like a torrential wave.

“At least he was there for me when some prick blackmailed me into a relationship at the threat of my livelihood,” you snarl.

Lando pauses for a moment. He makes a couple different faces before settling on a mix between pissed off and confused, and his arms cross over his chest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Garrett Ward, Lando!” You exclaim. “He threatened that if I didn’t pretend to be his girlfriend, he’d fake some misconduct rumor and ruin my career and I was too afraid to say no because this is all I have!”

This isn’t how you’d wanted it all to go down. You’d always imagined you’d get the satisfaction of an apology, and that Lando would get drunk on cheap wine with you like old times, and you’d explain what all happened with the confidence of being a little tipsy and you wouldn’t feel ashamed because Lando’s your best friend and he’d reassure you that you did what you had to, and then you’d listen to him shit talk Garrett for the rest of the night. In the morning, he’d have some idea of how to fix it all without ruining your career, and then you’d be able to put it all behind you and go back to how things were before the winter off-season ever started.

This is far from that, but there’s a sense of relief that comes nonetheless from getting it all off your chest to Lando━ to the person you’ve wanted to talk to from the very beginning

You feel tears burning your eyes, blurring your vision. “I can barely pay my rent as is, and I’m only actually living there for a few dumb months out of the year anyway. Do you know how much worse it would be if I got kicked from McLaren too? Nobody else in the country would hire me if he followed through with what he was threatening.”

“Well,” Lando shrugs his shoulders, looking properly chastised. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I fucking tried, you muppet!” You throw your arms up in exasperation and then wipe at your eyes in frustration when the tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I called you every day for a week and you ignored me! I sent you text after text after fucking text━” your voice breaks, “━and you didn’t even read them! Did you know I locked myself in the bathroom and cried every single day I had to work there?”

You glare at him.

“The only thing that made it better was Jack fucking Grealish coming into my office and telling me I could at least go to him if I ever needed anything,” you snap. “So fuck off with this whole holier than thou bullshit. You left me, and Jack took your place because I was drowning!”

“Y/N…”

Crying hadn’t been a part of your plan, but the tears won’t stop now that they’re going. It’s embarrassing. You’re already worried about just how many people heard you shouting, and now you’re even more worried about someone coming back to look for you both and finding you sobbing your eyes out.

“I’m sorry━”

Lando’s arms wrap around you, warm and strong and sure.

━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja @wcnorris @a-disturbing-self-reflection (CLOSED).

━━ a/n: and there we have it folks. lando is finally back in the picture! this part was a lot of fun to write, because i've been waiting for this moment since the initial fallout in the beginning. on that note, i finished getting it all whipped up this morning while watching the qualis, so if there are any mistakes that i haven't caught that's why. i was a bit distracted, so please pretend they aren't there haha!

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 #oscar piastri

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life.

Part I: Radio's not dead

| Part 2: Radio Will Be Dead if He Doesn’t Explain Himself. | Masterlist| ao3 Pairings: Alastor x wife!reader Tags: fem! reader, established relationship, human!alastor, hopefully not but just in case ooc!alastor (I'm trying my best to keep him as canon as possible) acroace!alastor

"Alastor! Pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure!" One hand reset on his chest, and the other shoots into the air. You chuckle. "I don't think it will be quite the pleasure you think." "Is that so?" Alastor's smile remains constant. "And why would that be? You show him the tray you're holding "I'm here to do your sutures"

You pass the tissue box—the third one already.

Your patient blows his nose, rubbing snot off his snout. He has to stretch his arms to reach his nose. Alligators are known for their long snouts. His nostrils flare when he sniffles. Used tissue is discarded on the pastel-pink floor despite a pastel-pink trashcan stationed by his webbed feet. It’s been the same pattern for the last fifteen-minutes.

Tissue, Sneeze. Floor.

“—and I have this…uh…like this real bad itch on my eye. I keep rubbing and rubbing but it doesn’t do shit! My eyesight’s gotten worse—It’s already fucked up but this is just different. My roommate hissed at me about getting blood all-over the carpet floors if I kept scratching my scales. Oh. Oh! I’ve been snee—achew!” Alligator snot lands on the pastel-pink floors of the clinic.

Your eyes twitch.

He takes another tissue and waves it around his head. “The top of my head is killing me. Ya’know where that is right?” He blows his nose. “It’s right here,” he says, inching his head closer to you. “The last nurse I went to was blind as a bat! Literally, she had the wings and everything. It was kinda hot.”

“I’m well aware of the location of your head,” you say. “You can lean back now.”

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor.

Tissue. Sneeze. Floor.

Pastel pink floor.

Underneath the mix of feathers and hair strands, the bustling of the waiting room catches your ear. Someone curses, booming and violent at another waiting patient. A cough, a sigh, a barf. Painful curses erupt after that. You bring a hand to your ears, wincing as your eardrum rings.

Pentagon City’s best and biggest hospital needs better doors, but those lazy sloth fuckers at the top invested at the first material they found. The alligator sneezes into another tissue. He flicks it with his wrist, and it hits the pastel-pink wallpaper adorned with closed eyes. Maybe Belphegor should be the sin of Pride instead, considering all items are covered in her symbol.

“I really feel like t’was those exterminators ya’know?”

You do not, in fact, know. Half of what this young man says is incomprehensible.

His snout sways left to right when he shakes his head. “It’s only my second one, and this was a close call, and uh…well, ever since then I’ve been like this. One even got to my roommate. “

You hum, leaning back on your chair. You should petition to for thicker doors. And while you’re at it, better interior design, and better paint—something that isn’t pastel pink.

“Ugh, and it’s so not cool that this new roommate of mine’s been shedding since the day they moved in,” he says.  “Speaking of shedding, do you think it’s because of those exterminators? Do you think they like spread some sort of weird pollen to make us sick? They’re totally the type to that.”

You take your pen—your pastel-fucking-pink pen—and poke his alligator sinuses.

Hell does have its own brand of humor. You gave your 20s to studying human anatomy, only to die and find yourself with the need to re-learn the boring part of biology.  (Two books on reptiles, four on mammals, and fifteen on sea creatures.)

“YEOWCH!” His teeth stick out again. You do not know what this means.  “What kind of nurse ar—“

“Doctor.”

“—you? That’s not the top of my head!”

You push back on of the feathers on your head. “Your roommate ‘hissed’ at you? And they’ve been shedding fur for two weeks now?"

“…Yeah…?”

You stare at him. “Have you ever considered that you’re allergic to your roommate?”

“Ooooooooooh,” he says. ‘Yeah, I was allergic to cats back when I was alive.”

You grab your (pastel-fucking-pink) prescription pad from the desk drawer. “Control it with some antihistamine. Four pills every 12 hours.”

His teeth start showing. You’re not sure if he’s frowning. It’s hard to tell. “Pills, really?”

You toss what you were writing into the massive pile of germs, mucus, and tissue. “I can give you a nasal spray. I’ll flush the mucus then insert a spray that prevents build-up,” you say. “They last for two weeks and then you’ll need to come back.”

He grabs the last tissue from the box. It still lands on your floor. “Ma’am nurse, do you have any more of this?”

You sigh and reach for a fourth box of tissue. “It’s doctor,” you say. “We keep nasal sprays here in the clinic. I’ll just grab one and you’ll be out in fifteen minutes.”

“No can do,” he says. “Before I died, my coach told me to stay away from that non-organic shit. It’ll mess us up real bad apparently. All those steroids.”

“You have phencyclidine sticking out of your coat pocket.”

“Pheny—what?”

“…Angel Dust.”

“The porn star?”

“The drug. You have drugs sticking out of your coat pocket.”

“Come on, nurse—”

Threads erupt from your fingers. It snakes around his wrist, coiling and twisting. He jerks his arm away and cries out when you tighten your hold. Your threads wrap around his legs. It pulls against his waist. Magic binds his arms, and tightens around every joint he owns. You stop, only when the alligator struggles, trashing against the clinic chair. 

His teeth bare and he snaps at whatever he can reach. You tug on one of the thousands of strings digging into his skin. His jaw snaps shut, and it will stay shut. Another tug and his back stretches to straighten. You move your fingers as if a piano laid before you, and he sits up like a good puppet.

Another month of clinic dury will be your punishment if those sloth from down below are lucid enough to do their jobs. Sadly, killing this idiot would have you suspended for three months.

“I am a doctor,” you tell him. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

The tension on your strings marks even the few scales scattered on his body. He’s a real idiot if he continues to struggle.

Delicate movements of your fingers bring him forward, his back still strained, and tilt his snout at a forty-five-degree angle. Your threads elongate as you move toward the clinic drawers. It loosens around you, careful at keeping you able to move freely. It’s one of the handier parts of your magic.

You shake your hands and the threads detach. It sticks to the floor to keep the alligator as your puppet. You scrub your hands thoroughly before taking the nasal spray and filling with with distilled water.

You place on nitrite gloves. It’s always best when dealing with bodily substances such as mucus. You place a pan underneath and jam the tube up his nostrils, hosing his sinuses with water. The tension of his binding keeps him still. (If you ignore his whining, then that’s your business. The brawl you heard from the waiting room drowned it all out anyway.) He starts breathing better when all the snot flushes to the pan.

“Finished,” you say with satisfaction. You grab your prescription pad and write one for a nasal spray. “I cleared the mucus buildup so you shouldn’t feel any more headaches. The spray will keep your nose clear for as long as you use it. Come back if you start to feel any discomfort. For the rashes just get cream.” You point at the pastel pink door. “The exit’s right there.”

The threads dissolve in the air. He rubs his wrist, trying to soothe the red marks that your strings bring. You hand him the signed prescription.

He doesn’t close the door on his way out.

The broom and dustpan are hidden in one of the taller cabinets—pastel-pink like everything else in the room.

(Well, not everything. The radio sitting on the corner of the counter gives a splash of red into the room.)

You sweep the tissues into the dustpan. Your control over your strings is much more proficient when living beings are involved. Inanimate objects whip around when you use your magic on them, and radios have been difficult to purchase recently. It’s more convenient to clean using your own hands.

“Tagatha,” you call out when the floor is clean. “You can bring in the next one in.”

Silence is your reply.

“Tagatha?”

Your ears quirk. The noises are faint—an occasional cough, silent weeping, and muted voices coming from the television. You peek out the door, eyeing the crowd formed around the corner of the hall where a pAstel-pInK television mounts on the wall.

The door closes with a faint click. You sink into the cushions of the office chair. Vox’s yapping bore you. It was probably some man-child debate about the new extermination date. Although… those serialized dramas he produces, sadly, are interesting enough to be consumed. If asked for your honest opinion, you’d tell them that they were a hot pile of smelly garbage, but you like to leave it playing mindlessly in the background.

Your husband will throw the television out the window the first chance he’ll get.

Too bad he’s occupied.

You grab a piece of paper from the drawer. Management is forcing you to write a thousand-word formal apology. There are about three-hundred words left to write.

Getting caught dissecting the dead bodies from the morgue is a mistake that won’t be repeated. One dead body and suddenly those lazy fuckers have diligence weaved into their DNA. The body was already dead, and it’s not every day a chance to poke around a chimera’s entrails appears. The sinner would contribute to something meaningful at least. You’re stuck on clinic duty until you dot your last sentence, and not a moment before

The coffee’s cold now, but consumable.

You reach across the desk, feeling for the knob of the radio. You twist until you feel the clink. Music fills the air—the same twenty-five songs on a loop. You stare at the radio for a moment.

Just… a small… single moment.

On your kitchen counter, that second cup of coffee should be cold by now. It’s always cold when you trudge through the door. It’s been cold and untouched for years.

Yet, without fail, that second cup you brew will always be waiting for its owner.

“Salutations!” You snap your head to the radio. “Good to be back on the air.”

…Huh? The feather on your hair bristle. You swipe the radio, your hold on it feather-light.  You turn the knob responsible for volume. The static noise stings your eardrums.

“—ile since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast. Sinners rejoice!”

Murmurs erupt outside your door. You blink and find yourself slamming it open. One foot after another, one step after the other, brings you closer to the television. Your shoulder throbs when you bump into someone, but you keep pushing until you see Vox and his tacky suit enlarged on the screen.

“What a dated voice!”

A reply comes from the radio. “Instead of a clout-chasin’ mediocre video podcast.”

Your feather rises higher. Laughter escapes your lips, it leaves a dry taste. That…that ṁ̵̭͔̲̙̦͎̝̜̲̠͙͇̂̏̃̐̂̓̊̂̕̕o̴̢̭̝̙̤̬͚͐̅͗̌̇̂̌̕ţ̷̛̝̂̿h̶̯̟̙̲̘̟̟͙͔̔̋͊̋̿̐͘͜͜ę̶̗̰͔̫͔̗̝̘̻̰̓̓̈̊͜r̵̨̂̏f̶͖̻̱̺͕̹̫̭̠̚u̸̬̺̯̟̦͖̅̂́́̌̚͝ć̴̖͙̰͈͕̉͌̈́́̈̔̀̉̍́͜͠ḳ̴̨̧̗̫̗͖̞̟̑͌̂̀̈́̀͆͒ę̷̛͓̼̟͍̆̆́͆̾͛͝r̵̹̮̤͓̗̹̈́̎̉͌̾͌̏͑̋̚͝.

“Doctor!” Tagatha screeches when she spots you. “I am so sorry. I’ll bring in the next one right away!”

Your eyes are trapped by the screen and your ears by the radio. “It’s alrig—”

Tagatha grabs the closest person to her and shoves you back into the clinic. The door slams shut just as everything goes dark and silent. (Well, it’s not completely dark, once your eyes adjust you can still see as if the lights were open. Another small perk to this body). Your radio, along with the power, stopped working.

“Oh my!” Your new patient bleats.

“We have generators,” you find yourself saying. “I’m sure the power will come on in a minute.”

The cushions of the chair do little to ease your nerves. You pat your hair, trying to get it in control. A pile of feathers starts forming on the PASTEL-FUCKING PINK FLOORS. T̴̹̜͇̅̅͗͜H̶̰̗̄Ơ̶̡̡̻̗͖̋̎̓̓S̴̨͉̝̻͋̽̆́͆Ẹ̸̡̢͐͐͠ ̷̨͚̞̙̀͒̆̆͊Ŭ̵͕̲̪͇͓͐̚G̷̹̝̦̬͊͒Ḷ̶̭͓̎̏̈͘Y̶͇̟̍̉̚ ̷̟͎͕̞͂͑̂̇À̶͉̍̄̈̚S̸͖̖͕͑̏͛̈́S̶͚̤̼̯̀ ̶̻͆P̷̬̝̉Ä̵͕́͊̌S̸̢͍̆̓͝Ṫ̸͖̲̠̾̉͜͝E̷̺͆L̷͖̏͐́͝ ̶̛̟̽͝P̷̪̔͜I̴̹̥̹͖̮͒́̏͘N̸̳̙̼̾̆̿Ķ̶̟̞̜̉͊̓̂̚ ̵͈̬̃̿̄̈́̋F̵̨̨̼̫̘͘L̸̙̠͎̓̆́O̷̧̘͚͉̤̓O̷̤̟̱̼̤͋̍͐R̷̰̝̓͌̌Ș̵̲̝̈́ "Excuse me?” You will paint this room red with the blood of management. You tap your foot again, and again, and again. “…Doctor?”

Your neck snaps in her direction, eyes wide and staring.

“The… uh… the lights are back.”

You blink at your patient—huh, she’s a goat. “I apologize,” you say, smiling. “Please, tell me, what brings you here in this hellish afternoon.”

She holds up her bleeding arm. “It’s been like this since the extermination,” she explains. “Some angle got me. Luckily, I was able to run off before I was finished. I thought it would heal on its own like it usually does but it just hasn’t. It keeps bleeding.”

“Well, angel-induced injuries are my specialty,” you say. Tucked away to the side, a mirror hangs. You catch your reflection, and you blow your hair away from your vision, your red sclerae “This will cost you. Injuries caused by angels are…difficult to stitch, but not impossible—not for me at least.”

“Oh, yes.” She bleats one more “Dear God, where are my manners? I’m sorry can I ask for your name?”

Your smile widens. “Of course. I’m—"

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you. Quite a pleasure!” One hand reset on his chest, and the other shoots into the air. It’s the bow you did in high school, back when you wanted theater to pay your bills. A performer’s bow.

You chuckle. “I don’t think it will be quite the pleasure you think.”

“Is that so?” Alastor’s smile remains constant. “And why would that be?”

You show him the tray you’re holding. “I’m here to do your sutures.” He steps closer to take a peek. You watch him as his eyes gloss over your matches then your needle driver, then the alcohol lamp. His smile wobbles when he lands on the syringe.

You move the tray, dropping it down on the little cart by the examination chair.

“There’s no need to worry.” You beam at him. “I have the steadiest hands in this city.”

“Hmmmm,” he says. “You must be the other doctor then.”

“Not at all.” You point to your uniform, where the initial ‘NP’ is embroidered next to your name. “Just the nurse practitioner.”

He takes a closer look and reads your name. “Then I have no reason to fret. None at all! In my experience, doctors usually have their noses buried in their books. It’s the nurses that actually get the hands-on experience.” Alastor’s hands move when he talks. “What’s such a talented practitioner doing in such a dinged-up clinic?”

“Management caught me in the morgue dissecting the dead—It’s how I practice my stitches.”

“Really, now?”

You bark a laugh. “Not at all—I’m far too smart to get caught.”

“A witty sense of humor and a steady hand! I am in good hands, indeed.”

You take a seat on the rolling stool. “Yes, yes,” you say, waving your wrist. “You make fine compliments, Sir. I’ll be sure to be extra gentle.” You point towards the examination chair. “But, please hurry to the chair. You’re dripping blood on my floor.”

Alastor glances down. His eyebrows furrow as he glares at where the blood seeps from his sleeve … almost… almost as if he’s angry. “My apologies,” he says, allowing his blood to drip to the floor.

Alastor shrugs off his coat. It’s rare to see such a dark red—only a few choose such a color. You hum. Alastor is a well-dressed gentleman. Lovely. Those are your favorite kind. He drapes his coat over the spare chair, ignoring the coat racks the clinic provides.

You turn away and wheel yourself closer to one of the drawers on the counter. It takes two attempts until you find the stash of sterile gloves. “Take your seat when you’re ready,” you say. “I’ll take a look once you are.” You place the gloves on the little green cart, right next to your tray.

Alastor takes his seat, landing with an audible ‘humph’. He smiles at you, sleeves rolled and arm ready. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You hold your palm out. “May I?”

His smile wobbles—it’s a small change in expression that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t looking. “Of course.”

Along his forearm, a long and sharp cut wounds him. The sight of grime that covers the opened abrasions makes you inwardly cringe. You need to clean these as soon as possible. “Why was this not checked sooner?” You rest his hands on the armrest and use your foot to bring the cart closer. “This looks old, and not at all like a freshly deep cut. I prefer it when patients come to me with fresh wounds.”

You grab a bowl with distilled water and pour in a sterile solution. “I assumed it would heal on its own,” he tells you. “It was quite a surprise when it did not.”

“I need to clean this before you die of infection.” You dip his arm into the bowl. He remains silent, but you feel the tension of his muscles under your fingers. “Hopefully there will be no next time, but just in case, next time, please don’t wait a month.”

He laughs, and there, you faintly see it—a twitch in his eye. “It was only a week actually.”

You smile to yourself. “I’d prefer it if it was only a few hours.” You dry his arm with a soft towel, his arm still tensed underneath your touch. “There, much better.”  You release your hold to go to a shelf filled with different labeled vials and select the one you need. With the clean syringe, you draw the contents of the vial. “You’ll feel a bit of a pinch,” you say. You tap its side. “It’s morphine— wouldn’t want you screaming and writhing”

You study his face for a second. There’s just that same dismissively polite smile.

“You can look away if you wish,” you tell him. “It’s why we pin such…er…interesting decorations around…. May I?”

You feel it again when Alastor inches his arm closer. His muscles tense under your touch. It’s almost as if he wishes to pull away. You keep your hold feather-light, but firm.

“Are you a hunter by any chance?” you ask. You don’t prick him—not yet. Not when tension coils in your hold.

“You could describe it that way,” he says, chuckling like he’s told a humorous joke. (You don’t understand why.)

“I figured you were.”

Alastor slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose. You inject the morphine into his skin, right inside the soft pink tissue. Good. Alastor relaxes when he speaks, it seems. “I do love a good hunt,” he says. “How ever did you know.”

You release your hold and discard the syringe. “Your hands are rough,” you tell him. “And hunters always have this silly notion that injuries magically heal given enough time—along with farmers, actually. Although, farmers are usually much more deluded.”

He flashes that same polite smile. “I'm guessing you’re not a hunter then?”

“How ever did you know?”

You watch his eyes flicker to your palms as you re-arrange the needles. “Delicate hands.”

You flash the same polite smile right back at him. You take a match, and light the alcohol lamp.

Soap spreads all over your palms and up your arm as you scrub your hands. You slip your hands into the sterilized gloves, careful not to contaminate the surface. “I’ll begin now.”

Alastor hums in reply.

You take a scapple and pass it over the flame. You poke him, lightly, but he doesn’t react. Satisfied, you cut back fibrous tissue underneath the skin. You replace the scapple with a needle driver. There was a quiet click when you pinch the tiny curved needle. You pass it over the flame as well. “Can you do me a favor? Can you tell me how many stars are on that wall over there?

Alastor turns to look at you, but you block his eyes with your palm, shielding him from your stiches.

“The wall isn’t over here.”

“I assure you, I’m not afraid of a silly needle.”

“I’m sure you are,” you say. “However, you’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it. The last three people who said that took one look and started squirming. One even fainted. It makes your life miserable, and my job harder.

He counts.

“Out loud please.”

He does as he’s told, rather reluctantly.

Hands steady and determination set, you pierce the soft pink tissue with your needle The tissue nearest to the surface is always delicate. You’re certain not to catch any fat in your suture, for fat dies, and a loose stitch is useless. “Well, isn’t this fun!” he says. “I really feel nothing.”

Your concentration does not break. “I don’t remember there only being twenty-six stars. I’m positive there are more.”

“Why is someone as talented as you only a nurse practitioner?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a nurse…,” you reply, tugging on the needle. “Well…we…. We certainly could be paid more.”

“Why not become an actual doctor then?”

“My father couldn’t afford it. He wouldn’t send me….and…hm…” You smoothly pull the suture thread and begin the next stitch. “And I enjoy this.”

He looks down at you. “Is this all you’ll be satisfied with?”

You focus back on your stitching, hiding your glare. You bring your needle underneath the flesh, making sure to catch the soft tissue. You’re doing an uncommon stitch, but it would be a shame to leave a scar. “You sound familiar.”

You pause to look at him, His smile brightens, and it actually looks like a genuine elated smile. “Why, I’m a radio broadcaster. You might have heard me there.”

“Oh yes...” you hum, turning back to your stitching. “Alastor... I remember now. The ladies and I listen to your broadcast as we do our crafts.”

“Knitting?”

“I personally prefer embroidery,” you say. “I get to practice my stitching and make beautiful art.” You pull the thread and begin a new one, stitching his skin like they were shoe laces. “You’re quite the humorous gentleman, I must say, and quite a lovely taste in music. We enjoy your broadcast very much”

“Do you have any of your artworks here?” he asks you. “I would be eager to see them.”

“Maybe next time.” You tug the suture, and his laceration snaps to a close. You tie a knot and snip the end. “Unfortunately, I’ve finished your stitches.”

“Next time then.”

You discard your gloves and go back to the shelf with the vials. You fill up another syringe. You jam the needle into his skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to scare him a bit. “To prevent infection.”

He jerks away from you. “What happened to that gentle touch of yours?”

“It’s still a sharp object, Sir. They tend to hurt.” You smirk and carefully clean the remaining blood on the skin around the sutured wound. You take a bandage from your cart and begin wrapping it around his forearm, covering your sutures. “Don’t forget to drink your pills every 8 hours, with a meal in your stomach, preferably. Replace the dressing every three days. You can come back here or if you’re able to do so, you can change them yourself. Any by the good God, please, visit the nearest hospital should this incident repeat.”

Alastor slides off the examination chair. He grabs his coat as if you didn’t just stitch him close. You start packing when you notice him fixing his bow tie, and smoothing his hair. Huh…There’s blood on his coat, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Like he’s used to having it there. Like it’s just something he’s learned to live with. “You were wrong by the way.”

“Pardon?”

“It was quite the pleasure to meet you.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Hello, welcome to the hell that's been plaguing my head. In case you didn't know Belphegor is the ruler of the sloth ring, and she seems to be in charge of medical-related stuff in Hell. I have the story mostly plotted out, it's just a matter of writing it down. If you have any questions, ask away

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #Hazbin hotel x reader #Alastor x reader #Alastor x wife!reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor x wife reader

[https-yeonjun]

fashion killa (k.mg)

wc. 879

genre. smut

tags. model!mingyu x fem!reader, oral (fem receiving) one night stand, strangers to lovers, strength kink (if you squint) minors DNI

a/n. first thing i've written in months, are we so back???? also this is kind of so late but happy happy happy mingyu day <333

more of my work

mingyu’s lips roam your body as he pulls you into his apartment. he closes the door and pushes you up against it softly.

part of you wants to take a break and glance around his luxury one bedroom apartment that had a one of a kind view of the city. but at the same time, another part of you just wants to rip his shirt off of his back. and mingyu is so desperately feeding into that part. his nimble hands are already unzipping your dress before you can realize it.

despite your silent pleas, he breaks away from the kiss, to take you in as your little black dress slides off your body. so sexy. he mumbles before you pull him back in to devour his lips again.

you aren’t supposed to be here.

your best friend pleaded with you to come out with her – it was paris fashion week after all. and she promised you she could get you into a really good party. so you foolishly followed her out in the most uncomfortable pair of heels you owned.

you really should have known how bad the party was going to be when you saw the promoter begging slightly intoxicated young women to come into the club. nevertheless, against your better judgment, you went in to find loud music blaring through the speakers and people literally standing on the dance floor. the two of you surveyed the area for all of five minutes before deciding to find something better to do.

but it turns out there really was nothing better to do.

at least nothing you could get into. it seemed like every party was invite only and two college girls with no connections, surely were not on the guest list.

you were going to give up and call it a night. but you found a club with a line that wasn’t too long. you waited until you made it to the front of the line, where your best friend batted her lashes at the doorman asking if he could just waive the cover for two pretty girls. you mentally rolled your eyes but it worked.

from the moment you walked in, you could already tell that this place had a way better vibe than the other place. you and your friend made a beeline towards the bar and bought your little overpriced drinks before heading out to the dance floor.

you remember making eye contact with the hot model from across the room. but you’re not completely sure what happened from the time you felt strong arms wrap around your waist as mingyu came over to dance with you, but that didn’t matter now. because you were here with him gently kissing down your torso. he stops when he gets to the waistband of your underwear. you feel a shiver down your spine as he kisses you through your panties. gyu, please. you whine. you feel his teeth graze against your skin when he begins to pull it down.

he kisses up your legs until you could feel his breath inches away from your core. p-please, you stutter.

what do you want me to do? his thick fingers spread your lips apart. his eyes are laser focused on you, watching you fall apart with a sly smile on his lips. he presses his finger into your soaked hole, ketting it swallow him. you clenched around him as he added another finger. you can’t even be bothered to think straight as he curled his fingers inside of you. he thrusts them in and out, fluidly.

your whines fill the room, your hips stuttering into his palm, desperate for him. i n-need you. you whimper. you need to feel all of him. mingyu pulls his fingers out and you almost cry at the newfound emptiness you feel.

but before you can say anything, his lips find their way around your clit. his hands trail up to your back and down your legs. you throw your head back against the wooden door and your hand locks on the back of his head, with your fingers threading through his hair. but his hair is too short and it’s just not enough for you. you pull him closer to you.

he chuckles against you, the vibrations causing you to arch your back. he takes this as an opportunity to lock your leg behind his back. he continues to bury his face in your pussy. his tongue enters between your folds eagerly. his nose is angled and brushes against your clit softly.

you grind yourself against his face, desperate to feel more of him. he grabs your hips more tightly,guiding you closer to your high. his hums vibrate against your core as you inch closer to your orgasm.

the room fills up with the sounds of your moans as his tongue fucks you right through your orgasm.

mingyu’s face emerges from between your thighs. he still grips onto your legs, lifting you up as he stands. he pulls you in for a long kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck for support, as you melt into the kiss. he finally pulls away from the kiss and you feel like putty in his arms. we should go to my bedroom, no?

taglist: @dearlyjun @bunnie-hq @honglynights @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx @leemoonna @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinyelfperson @buttrry @wayvisyummy @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie

fill out this form to join my taglist!

#fay's works #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu #kim mingyu #svt smut #seventeen smut

[shaykappa]

Favourite/Funniest Line's from Crooked Kingdom

"Let's go." "Me?" "No the idiot behind you."

"How is-" "Nina is fine. Jesper is fine. Everyone is fine except for me because I am stuck with a gang of hand-wringing nursemaids."

"Now why can't people be this easily trained?" Kaz murmured as he crouched to oblige the dog with a belly rub.

"Did you know I am next in line for the Fjerdan throne? They call me Princess Ilse of Engelsberg." "There is no princess of Engelsberg. It's a fishing town."

"Has anyone noticed this whole city is looking for us, mad at us, or wants to kill us?" "So?" "Well, usually it's just half the city."

"Big, blond and blind. The Fjerdan way."

"If I live I'll buy you waffles." "You don't have enough money to buy her waffles."

"Do you know what Van Eck's problem is?" "No honor?" "Rotten parenting skills?" "Receding hairline?"

"Isn't that how things are done around here? We all tell Kaz we are fine and the do something stupid?" "Are we that predictable?" "Yes."

"It seems everyone is forming alliances." "They're called friendships Kaz."

"You are very welcome Nina Zenik. You may repay me in the costumary way." "Waffles?" "Lots of them."

"I need to do this. I've never been to my mother's grave. I am not leaving Kerch without saying goodbye." "Trust me, you care more than she does."

"You are stupid about a lot of things Wylan, but you are not stupid. And if I ever hear you call yourself a moron again, I am going to tell Matthias you tried to kiss Nina. With tongue." "He' ll never believe it." "Then I 'll tell Nina you tried to kiss Matthias. With tongue."

"Come on, let's do steal all my dad's money. "Isn't it your money?" "Okay, let's go steal it back."

"I think you 'd flirt with a date palm if it would pay you any attention." "If I flirted with a plant, you can bet it would stand up and take notice."

"Yes, yes, Nina Zenik is hungry. Now, will someone feed me before I am forced to cook one of you?" "Don't be ridiculous. You don't know how to cook."

"On a dare I ate a literal through full of waffles and nearly went back for seconds."

"Pick up the pace." "If I spill a single drop of this it will burn straight through the floor onto my father's dinner guests." "Take your time."

"I am Dunyasha, the White Blade, trained by the Sages of Ahmrat Jen, the greatest assassin of this age." "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Fate brought me here." "And does fate pay your wages?"

"My parents thought I would drown because I crawled into the sea as a baby, laughing." "Perhaps they were worried you would talk yourself to death."

"Kaz. You may not be glad we are alive, but we are glad you are alive."

"You are better than waffles, Matthias Helvar." "Let's not say things we don't mean, my love."

"Are you mad?" "I'd probably be happier if I was."

"You have to be the craziest bastard I ever met." "I'll take that as a compliment."

"My leg! My leg!" "I recommend a cane."

"What is wrong with him?" "Same thing that's always wrong with him. He's Kaz Brekker."

Jesper followed Wylan down the hall. "Hey." Wylan kept going.

"Jes, I 've thought about this-" "Thought of me? Late at night? What was I wearing?"

Wylan ran his tongue over his lips and spat in his father's face.

He was pale, with tufty orange brows and a hunched posture that gave him the look of a giant shrimp.

He felt bad for the guy. Not bad enough to wake him up and untie him, but still.

"I 've been shot!" He had not been shot.

"How about I push you in the canal and we see if you know how to swim?"

"Tell you what. When the day comes, mark it on your calendars. I can think of a lot of people who 'll want to throw a party.

"Wait. Is my tie straight?"

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #kaz brekker #kaz x inej #kaz rietveld #inej ghafa #wraith #jesper fahey #jesper x wylan #kaz dirtyhands brekker #nina zenik #nina x matthias #matthias helvar #wylan van eck #wylan van sunshine #wylan hendriks #funny

[luvhughes43]

instagram official | blake hughes au

blake hughes masterlist

blake.hughes

liked by nicohischier, jackhughes, trevorzegras, and others

blake.hughes life lately :)

view all comments

jackhughes suit jacket looks a lil familiar...🧐

blake.hughes oh really?😁

nicohischier whoevers jacket it is has really nice taste! liked by blake.hughes

trevorzegras 🤭🤭

user00 wtf are u giggling about?

blake.hughes wait trev do u know?

trevorzegras yea jack called a mandatory ft a few days ago

blake.hughes omfg??

trevorzegras im happy for u goldie!

user01 BLAKE WATCH OUT!!! THERES A MAN BESIDE U!!

user02 blakes got a bf? omg im so happy for her

user03 monroes the cutest cat omfg

user04 wait can we acknowledge trevor calling blake goldie? what is that

user05 its been a thing for awhile now! he started calling her goldie after she won olympic gold! he mentioned it in an interview or something i think

user04 NICO NICO NICO

nicohischier

liked by blake.hughes, john.marino97, trevorzegras, and others

nicohischier Happy Holidays!😈❤️

view all comments

jackhughes 🔥🔥

blake.hughes 😈

user09 using the "😈" when soft launching ur teammates sister is crazy

user10 waittt who's he dating?

user09 streets are saying hes dating blake hughes! she recently posted a soft launch AND she was caught liking thirst edits of him😭

user10 oh theyre so unserious😭😭

comments on this post is limited

blake.hughes added to their story !

nicohischier posted one minute ago!

liked by jackhughes, blake.hughes, lhughes_06, and others

nicohischier the best december :)

tagged: blake.hughes

view all comments

blake.hughes :)

blake.hughes you make me beyond happy

nicohischier Du bringst mich zum Lächeln❤️

jackhughes nice but was the last pic really necessary?

nicohischer my bad

lhughes_06 does this mean I get to call you dad now?

jackhughes no

_quinnhughes no

user17 BLAKE???????

user18 OMFG ITS CONFIRMED THEY BOTH POSTED

user18 at the same time too like thats soulmatism😭🙏

user19 nicos reply in german... im gonna kms theyre so cute wtf😭

blake.hughes posted 1 minute ago!

liked by nicohischier, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras and others

blake.hughes my nico<3

tagged: nicohischier

view all comments

jackhughes … yours🤨

jackhughes pretty sure he was mine first bud

blake.hughes right but out of the two of us, who does he spend his nights with?

jackhughes WOAH?????

trevorzegras i think he’s ALL of ours

jackhughes no

blake.hughes no

nicohischier my girl❤️

trevorzegras 👽🍿

blake.hughes ok

_quinnhughes FINALLY🙏

jackhughes ?

_quinnhughes i’ve been waited for MONTHS for them to go ig official you don’t understand

jackhughes how tf did you find out so soon? Dawson literally told me like 2 weeks ago

_quinnhughes I know everything.

jackhughes alright mr. “i don’t really consider myself someone who knows what’s going on”

_quinnhughes they probably could’ve made out in front of you and you still wouldn’t have realized… mr. “I didn’t know there was a city in New Jersey”

trevorzegras Trevor ZEGRAS🧡

user20 in every pic of blake and nico hes always touching her in some way... like he loves her so bad they are my parents

user21 THE WAY BLAKE LOOKS AT NICO IM GOING TO JUMP OFF A BRIDGE THEY LOOK SO IN LOVE

user22 oh to be a fly on the wall when jack found out about the news...

user23 bro was definitely pouting he has such intense middle child syndrome

user24 MY NICO... MY GIRL??? ?OHHH ITS SO OVER THEY'RE SO DAMN CUTE

user25 i'm so glad that blake is happy after everything that happened... she deserves it the most<33

user26 NICO AND BLAKE ARE FR DATING??? WHY WHY WHY WHY

user27 ? get serious

#blake hughes au #nico hischier fic #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl fic

[hoesformatt]

okay u asked for blurb requests, hear me out… toxic ex matt u keep running back to…. i need it

HOME AND ALONE

matt blurb/smut, i’m trying out blurbs lmk if you like it in the inbox and send more blurb ideas + pt2?!?!

dom!toxic!matt • poc!reader friendly

contains: suggestive, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 0.4k

not proofread

It was always him. As much as wanted to detach from him and be a better person for myself he’s the first person on my mind. Summer Walker knew what she was talking about when she said; I finally got you out my bed, but I still can’t get you out my head.

I was feeling that shit, not breakup blues but the symptoms of being dickless.

I couldn’t help myself, I just threw my phone down on the ice cold kitchen counter, pacing after seeing what I did. The phone rang, once, twice, three times, four—

“Hello?” Matt’s familiar voice rung sweet bells in my ears.

“Can you come over?” Fuck how weak do I have be to just fall quite literally on my knees for a boy that treated me… Unhuman.

The words left my lips then I hear the three beeps end the call. Not only am I running back to him, but he fucking rejected me? It was a first and all after the past two months we’ve been fucking ‘without feelings’ because of our breakup but the fact he got tired of me first? Could I be anymore embarrassing.

“I’m so fucking stupid” I say unable to stay still “You’ve been over the phone for 15 minutes saying the same exact shit, what even happened” Alani complained over the line. “I called Matt to come over— again” I raced to say “BITCH AGAIN? WHAT HAPPENED TO CITY GIRLS UP, WHAT HAPPENED TO WE DON’T NEED BOYS” Alani hollered, breaking the sound barrier with ease.

“You don’t think I’m already feeling the—” I heard a sound coming from the front of my house and I shushed her. I waited a few seconds before turning to my right to the hallway that lead straight into the kitchen to see Matt?

The little fucker still kept my house key.

“I gotta go Lani” I hung up the phone leaping into Matt’s arms “I knew you missed me” He took the pride, kissing the nook of my neck and tightening his grasp on my waist.

“I don’t miss you, I miss the way you put it on me”

“Of course you do, nobody can fuck you like I do” Our lips met each other like it was our first kiss with one another but instead of love it was lust as he bit my bottom lip—hoisting me up onto the counter, letting my phone slip off and carrying his hands up my shirt.

tags: @lunariaxzz @thesturniolos @angelic-sturniolos111 @littlebookworm803 @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @alinaa131 @sturniolopowers @mattslolita @sturniofilmd @sturnioloooooo @mattsneezing @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo smut #fan fiction #fan fic #sturniolo smut #smut #sturniolo triplets #hoesformatt #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

[slexenskee]

Only Shooting Stars (Break The Mold)

The AU where Gojo is actually All Might's California kid that literally no one asked for, including me 🤦‍♀️

Satoru’s best friend just told him she hates him. Actually, she told him she wanted to go hiking, which is basically the same thing. 

There is emphatically nothing he’d like less than being dragged through the parched, dry hills around the Dish on an otherwise perfectly normal Saturday morning free of classes, but Makoto is only in town for two days and he promised her he’d do whatever she liked barring arson and/or more tequila shots. 

“Can’t you just get Captain Underpants to go with you?” He throws out as a token protest, staggering into her rental jeep with the darkest shades he owns tossed over his eyes in a desperate attempt to keep his hangover at bay.

He squints at her as she settles in the driver’s seat of her rented death contraption. And why isn’t she hungover, anyway? She had even more to drink than him last night. 

“You know his hero name is Captain Celebrity, and please don’t say that where anyone can hear you.” She rolls her eyes as she starts the car. “Until I get a more famous client he’s still my cash cow, and I’d really rather not get fired right now.”

“You couldn’t have picked a worse one.” Satoru snorts, flopping into the passenger seat. “Isn’t he still cheating on the daughter with the stepmom or something?”

“Alleged,” Makoto hisses. “Allegedly cheating. And no, obviously. I wouldn’t still be his publicist if he was that much of an idiot.”

She tries to back out of her spot and almost immediately slides several inches down the heart-palpitation-inducing San Francisco incline he’d parked her on last night. She gives him a look of pure, sheer terror over her steering wheel. 

Satoru quickly undoes his seatbelt. “Yeah, okay. Put the parking brake on and switch with me— I’ll drive.” 

He has them up and off the worst of Hyde St.’s incline with the undisturbed impassivity of a kid who’s spent his entire driving career wedging himself into tenuous and visibly improbable parking spots all across the bay area. Makoto gives a sigh of relief once they clear the worst of the soaring hills, and actually doesn’t bring up the topic he knows she’s itching to broach until he’s pulling onto the 101. 

“You know, I wouldn’t have to bother with Captain Celebrity if someone would just finally agree to be a hero.” Makoto needles him, for the umpteenth time. 

He rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “Not happening.” He shoots her down flat. 

“You can’t stay in college forever!” She protests.

“What do you mean, forever?” He protests back, offended. “I’m not even twenty-two yet!” 

And she makes it sound like he’s wasting his life away going to college or something! As if getting into Stanford isn’t the most snobbish badge of supremacy you can wave around in this damn state! 

This is what he gets for saving her all those years ago, he laments. A best friend who nags him over all his life choices. He should have let her just fall from that damned New York skyscraper. Or more realistically, just waited it out and let an actual hero swoop in and save her. It’s not as if there hadn’t been plenty around at the time. 

She’d been a twenty-one year-old intern at a prestigious marketing agency caught at the wrong end of a villain takeover, and as far as his mother was concerned he’d been a seventeen year-old ostensibly touring the city for colleges, but in reality had been touring music dive bars more than campuses. They’d immediately bonded over the fact he’d saved her life, but also the indie band shirt he’d been wearing as he’d done it. 

Growing up in LA, his only two real options were surfing or surf rock, and he’d chosen to spend more time on the route that wouldn’t lead him to immediate skin cancer. His mom had eventually moved them to San Francisco, but he’d never quite grown out of his SoCal roots. He’d loved music in his last life, and in this life, he’d decided to chill the fuck out and ignore society and all it’s problems, and music seemed as good a way as any to do it. And he was pretty damn good at it, if he did say so himself. His expansive catalog of songs from his last life and eidetic memory made most people call him a genius, even if he rejected the label. So he was a passable— if not prodigal— guitarist, and Makoto had just learned to play the bass herself, so it was really no surprise they’d not only immediately bonded, but immediately decided to make a band together. 

Makoto jumping ship and splitting her time between the US and Japan had thrown a bit of a wrench in their rockstar dreams, but they were making it work somehow. And considering he can teleport around the world at will, it’s really not that much of a hindrance. 

That does beg the question though, of why Makoto would rather him be a hero than a musician. But he imagines he actually already knows the answer to that. 

“How about you stop cleaning up after stupid celebrities, and become a celebrity yourself.” He argues, with a raised brow. 

Makoto scoffs. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to break into the music industry?” 

With the confidence of several dozen platinum hits spanning several dozen genres sitting pretty in his head, Satoru retorts; “I don’t think that will be a problem for us.” 

She laughs him off at first, but then seems to give it genuine thought. “I guess you are pretty enough to have lead singer appeal,” she concedes, uncharitably. “But we haven’t even released an album yet; you have no idea how well it will be received on the charts. Playing little dive bar shows isn’t going to get us anywhere.” 

Satoru just shrugs. “Then what’s stopping us? Let’s record an album.”

Makoto just rolls her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Come pop by Japan next weekend, and let’s do it.”

“Sure.” He agrees immediately, making her do a double take. He grins winsomely at her. “What? I’m free next weekend. Why not?” 

She just shakes her head in wonder. “Even seeing it multiple times, sometimes I really do still forget you can just… teleport across the world. And stop bullets with your eyeballs.”

“It’s telekinesis,” he corrects, but at this point it’s just rote. 

“No, I specifically remember you trying to explain it had something to do with your eyeballs, don’t try to change it up now.” Makoto pokes him in the shoulder— or tries to, but is stopped with his barrier. “And how the hell that’s supposed to even make sense, I have no idea. But you definitely said it.” 

Yeah, he probably deserves that for trying to explain his cursed techniques while he’d been several mystery drinks deep at a college frat party. Makoto probably still hasn't forgiven him for dragging her to that madhouse, but in his defense, she’d all but begged him to take her to an American college party in the first place.

“It’s… complicated.” He hedges off. “My eyes just help me understand how to use my powers; they’re not actually what creates my barrier.” 

Makoto squints at him suspiciously. “... What’s your mom’s quirk again?”

He chuckles awkwardly. “Oh, she can convert energy from the sun. Mine’s a mutation, obviously.”

“Could just be a strange combination.” Makoto muses. “What did you say your dad’s quirk was?”

“I, uh, have no idea.” Satoru coughs, keeping his eyes on the road in a vaguely panicked manner. 

“Shit, that’s right, I’m sorry.” Makoto jolts in her seat, apologetic. “You still haven’t heard anything? I thought your mom said… I mean, they’re not on bad terms, right?”

Frankly, Satoru almost wishes she would continue pestering him about becoming a hero over this particular topic. 

“They’re not on bad terms, no.” He hedges off, shifting in his seat. Why couldn’t his best friend have a normal quirk, like fire breathing or water bending? Or anything besides being a human lie detector when he has so much he needs to lie about? “But they don’t talk much. I’m not sure she even knows what his quirk is herself.”

“Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter anyway, your quirk is what it is.” Mercifully, Makoto lets the subject drop. “Even if it makes no damn sense.”

Satoru laughs that off. “Does any quirk ever really make sense, though?” 

Makoto just clicks her tongue, then launches into a spirited rant on the laws of quirk science. Satoru breathes a quiet sigh of relief as the conversation devolves into a nonsensical argument on what would be the most useless quirk in history. 

One of these days he’s going to have to cave and tell Makoto the truth, but he’d really rather not do it when he’s hungover and facing the prospect of a miserable hike for the next few hours. 

//

And to be fair, nothing he said to Makoto was a lie. 

His parents aren’t on bad terms. Or rather, they’re not on any terms at all, as he doesn’t think they’ve even spoken once in the twenty-two years he’s been alive in this world. But according to his mom, they hadn’t parted on bad terms. They’d been college sweethearts, and his father had always been honest about his intentions to return to Japan. His mother had been adamant about staying in America and pursuing her own career. They’d split up for practicalities sake, unaware he was already on the way, and his mom looks back on that time of her life fondly. 

His mom would go on to have him several months after his father had left the country, and raise him as a single-mother as she built a life for them. His father would go on to be the world’s strongest hero. 

His mother had only ever known Yagi Toshinori as All Might, unbeatable and unbreakable, with a quirk so strong it would have him going down in history as one of the strongest heroes of all time. As far as she— and the rest of the world knew— he had some kind of strengthening quirk. 

But Satoru had seen him before, on one of his trips back to Japan. It had been from a distance, as he’d taken down a villain to the delight of the cheering crowds around him, but it had been enough for Satoru’s Six Eyes to see his quirk wasn’t quite as straightforward as the strengthening ability listed on his hero profile. All Might’s core— where most humans had a swirling mass of plus alpha energy— was as empty as Satoru’s. Satoru was quirkless because his father, All Might, had been born quirkless. The quirk All Might had now must have been  given to him when he was older, growing around that empty space and spreading through his body almost like a parasite. Or a curse. Satoru honestly couldn’t tell.

Satoru honestly didn’t care. 

He has no opinion on All Might, or what choices he may or may not have made to wield the power he has. 

When he was much younger, and saw how much his mother struggled to raise him on her own without help, he would resent him a bit for leaving her on her own like this. But his adult mind could understand the logic in both his parents’ motivations. They both made their own choices, and did what they thought was right with only care and consideration for each other. 

And it’s not as if Satoru’s childhood was lacking in any capacity.  

Actually, his childhood was awesome. 

To be entirely honest, he doubts he would have wanted All Might around even if that was possible. He can’t imagine a better way to grow up than the way he did, rocking out in the garage with his mom on the weekends, surfing in the mornings (with adequate sunscreen), skating from school to the skatepark in the afternoons, and having the complete and utter autonomy only a latchkey kid could have. His mom did what she could to make sure he grew up comfortably and well-cared for, and that included putting in long hours at work that had him on his own for most of the week. It was the best. There were no rules against using quirks in America— someone finally got their act together on personal bodily autonomy and all that— so he’d use his ‘quirk’ to teleport himself all across the world in his spare time. As long as he was back by dinner time, his mom didn’t need to know if he decided to spend the afternoon wandering the streets of Seoul in search of the best hotteok. 

He tried to keep his excursions on the down low, and keep his grades up and his nose out of trouble. While he adored his freedom, he never wanted to worry his mom. She was honestly too good for this world— and for him too, if he was being honest. The least he could do is be as good of a son as possible.

Well, he can try to be as good of a son as possible. As it stands, the majority of his chaotic existence usually gets in the way of that. 

“Oh, Sacchan, you’re home already?” His mother peers out of her office, thick, horn-rimmed glasses making her purple eyes look comically large on her face as she pokes her head over the wall. “Where’s Makoto-chan?”

“Probably on the plane already, unless it got delayed.” He tosses his keys into the basket by the front door, toeing off his shoes. 

She frowns at him. “You drove her to SFO, right? Don’t tell me you let her go by herself!”

He rolls his eyes. “She had a rental car to drop off, ya know. But yeah, I drove her from the rental place to her terminal.” 

Not that she deserved the consideration, after dragging him on a hike of all damn things yesterday. They’d just stayed out the whole night drinking beforehand, what madwoman does that? 

She gets up out of her chair, stretching her arms over her head as her hapless bun spills silver-white hair over her shoulders. “She’s such a nice girl,” his mother enthuses, as she cracks her neck. “I wish you’d bring more of your friends around, Sacchan. Your poor mother worries.”

“I’m in college now, mom.” He rolls his eyes. “We don’t really bring our friends around to meet our parents.”

More to the point, he wouldn’t want to anyway. College boys are emphatically the worst, and his mom is a very pretty woman. That’s just asking for trouble. And beyond that, he doesn’t have anyone at school he’d feel close enough to introduce her to anyway. He has plenty of people in his orbit to pair up with in labs, hang around the quad with while he’s killing time between classes, or drag to various house parties, but those are superficial bonds at best. 

He’s a young, handsome boy who surfs and skateboards and is good at all sports and plays rock music and still ranks at the top of his class; suffice it to say, he’s never wanted for friends or popularity. But he’s also a full grown man living through a second life; he has very little in common with the people in his age group. It’s gotten better now that he’s a full-fledged adult again, but he still tends to find the petty struggles of his fellow undergrads to be a bit pedantic. 

“You never brought any around in highschool either.” His mother laments. “Sacchan, you’re not embarrassed over your mother, are you?”

“Not at all.” He protests, then adds, because he doesn’t want to worry her, “I just don’t want people knowing exactly where I live. They seem nice enough, but you never really know with people these days.”

He says it to assure her that he’s a perfectly well-adjusted and well-liked kid who has plenty of deep and genuine friendships (entirely untrue) but only serves to worry her even more. 

She frowns at him, eyes downcast. “Oh, Satoru,” she says, in a sad tone that automatically has him lurching forward to comfort her. “I know things with your father are… complicated, but I never wanted to make you feel like you had to hide yourself from the world. I want to keep you safe, but I want you to have fun too, you know?” 

“Yes, I know.” He rushes to reassure her. “And I do have fun— you know I do! You came to my show just last week!”

His mother gives him a watery smile. “Yes, and your bandmate Kenji nearly started a bar fight, and the crowds got so unruly that the fire department got called in.” 

“That guy deserved to be slapped around a bit.” He returns, unapologetic. “And the fire department was just there to make sure we stayed under capacity— we weren’t causing any trouble!”

“No trouble, he says, when the cops were still called by the end of the night.” She teases him. 

He rolls his eyes. He can’t control whether or not two drunks decide to get in a brawl over baby mama drama outside the venue, that was totally not his fault. And also probably not the best show to take his mom to, but it was one of the few local performances they’ve ever done, and she was always making noises about finally seeing his band play in person. Unsurprisingly having two bandmates that live across the ocean and one that hops between two countries means they rarely play shows on this side of the Pacific, and he still hasn’t found a way to admit to her that his teleportation radius is a lot larger than he’d originally told her as a five year-old manifesting his ‘quirk’. 

“Cops or not, it was still a good time.” He grins, adamantly. 

“It was indeed a good time.” She nods, grinning back. She leans up to pat his cheek. “You looked like you were really enjoying yourself up there, Satoru. I always knew you’d be a star.” 

“It was a weekday performance at a local bar, I would hardly call myself a star.” He protests, helplessly. 

Her eyes twinkle behind her glasses. “Maybe not yet.”

--

Yes the title is from All Star by Smashmouth 😂 this fic has the most millennial playlist I've ever made

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#fic may death never stop you #mdnsy oneshots

[ajortga]

sweet pt.2

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna can't stop thinking about you, the coffee girl. she may or may not have asked you out on something her friends consider as a date.

word count: 3k+

read pt.1 here! sweet- part 1

It became sort of a habit for Jenna.

It would be music, think about you, eat, think about you, sleep, think about you, film, yay Jenna gets to see you!

Maybe she’s over exaggerating it, but at the same time she’s really not.

Jenna wasn’t the regular person to be a love bird. Head over heels for someone was barely something she was used to. Well sure she would pass some guys in the city or notice them on set and think, “Oh his hair is perfect” or “He’s kind of cute.” She’s dated a few guys, broke them off because they weren’t for her.

All of the guys only hung out with her knowing she was a celebrity, or she would really think they were the one, until they lost interest and treated her like some toy. She hated when they did that. In fact, she was disgusted by it so much that she didn’t even want to think of having a lasting relationship at all. She just had to find someone right for her.

-

“You’re awfully quiet,” Melissa nudges Jenna as they’re both in their Tara and Sam outfits.

Jenna hums, looking at the taller latina with a small roll of her eyes while their makeup is getting patched up, “Just hungry, I guess.”

She shifts in her seat, her earbuds in and waiting for this day to be over, she forgot an umbrella. Of course the forecast would show as non-stop rain the whole day with thunderstorms, she literally checked the day before and it said sunny.

“Well, we only have to shoot like, 5 scenes. You wanna go with Jas and Mason to the Italian place you like? On me.”

Tempting.

But Jenna’s mind has other plans. 

“I think I’m gonna drop by the coffee place next door, craving a latte you know?”

She sees the way Melissa’s face twitches upwards, almost as a confused yet searching look, “You don’t like coffee.”

“The shop changed my mind, Y/N recommended a latte that is actually really good.”

“Y/n you say?” And from Melissa’s sing-song voice, she knows what’s coming.

“Yes,” Jenna scoffs, she can feel her ears begin to heat up.

“I didn’t know you had a friend named Y/N.”

It’s a little quiet, the only noise is from Jenna’s half put in earbud, “I met her a couple days ago, she’s a barista that helps her parents run their coffee shop. Keeps the place cozy and organized.”

“So she’s a barista?”

“Yes,” Jenna replies, half distracted as she picks at her cuticles.

“Who helps run her parent’s coffee shop?”

“Yep.”

“Next door?”

“Uh huh.”

“You like her,” Melissa smirks, it’s not a question anymore.

“Yes-Wait what? No!” Jenna slaps Melissa’s arm, caught off guard.

Jenna hears her laugh, half-heartedly, “I’m just kidding, but you do seem out of it, are you thinking about her often?”

She shrugs, picking off skin that she just scratched.

“Well I think you are, you’re nervous.”

Now the daydreamer turns to face Melissa, “No I’m not, I just think she’s sweet and she’s someone that already brought me out of that introverted lookin’ shell when I first meet people.”

It was true. It’s like you two knew each other when you first met, she hopes you thought of her that way too. She hopes you’re thinking of her as much as she thinks about you everyday.

Melissa looks down at Jenna’s cuticles, then back up at her, “You’re thinking about her, you’ve been quiet today and don’t think I didn’t see what song you’re listening to. You never listen to love songs!”

“What?! I have not been listening to love songs!”

“Lover by Taylor Swift? Lingers by The Cranberries? About you by the 1975?  Dark Red by Steve Lacy??”

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

“I just have taken interest in love songs I guess, it’s spring anyways right?”

“Spring my ass! That is bullshit!” Jasmine chimes in, making Jenna flinch and turn to the corner where Jas was hiding.”

“What the fuck Jas.. Are you eavesdropping?” Jenna shrieks.

“I know when a girl likes a girl,” Jas rolls her eyes and immediately stands up from her squatting position, “Don’t think me and Mason didn’t see you texting someone that you named mY y/N OOoO La lAAaAa..”

Jasmine shuts up with a slipper slapped into her face.

“Just go ask her out or something,” Mason says, popping behind Jasmine and getting the second pair of slippers thrown to his stomach, making him yelp.

“I barely even know her,”

“And there's no difference, you barely fall in love, girl, love at first sight for you means that she’s the one. You know your priorities and she checks all of them. If not, you wouldn’t be listening to those dumb love songs.”

“Gotta agree Jenna, what about this, we’ll go to the Italian restaurant first, then we’ll leave you alone with her in the coffee shop, you come out and tell us how it goes.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you love us.”

“Ugh.”

-

The alfredo pasta was twirled from the fork Jenna was holding, eating as the cast of scream 6 giggled and talked during their lunch break. It was a big bowl of pasta to say the least, she shared it with the whole cast but she was eating it up like there was no tomorrow. She knew around this time she came to your cafe, she only came around two times, but if you didn’t see her on a Thursday in the afternoon, she can almost feel the disappointment you might feel. Or hopes you feel, Jenna’s wondering to herself if you even think of her.

“Oh she’s falling hard for this silly Y/N girl,” Jasmine whispers to Melissa, to which she agrees almost immediately.

“No I’m not,” Jenna blurts, placing down her fork.

Everyone in the table clicks their tongue, a few, “Oh come on” and “Liar!”

“Well you wouldn’t have responded, we’ve been talking to you for the past 5 minutes and you only jerk your head when you hear anything about her!” Jasmine groans, showing her hands if they would somehow present something.

She signals for the check, she quickly pays, and as soon as that happens her real life core four push her out of the restaurant and to the outside of the coffee shop, like parents.

“Go,” Jenna’s shoulder was pushed into the door and it was too late to go back as she heard the familiar bell ring.

“I hate you Jas,” her hands flip the 3 people giggling behind the foggy window behind her as she hears the voice she’s been thinking about the whole day.

“Jenna!” Your tiny figure pops out from the coffee bean machine, waving to her happily.

Cute, she thinks to herself. You’re so cute.

“Almost thought you wouldn’t come today,” you murmur, making Jenna shake her head.

“Just had some lunch with friends, but I couldn't miss out on coffee on Thursdays though.”

“Ah,” you hum, your eyes focused on the latte art you were working on.

The only noise is the r&b music and the small chatter that keeps the environment comforting. 

A small bunny was being created, pouring the creamer carefully. 

“You’re almost looking as tiny and cute as that bunny,” your co-worker, Matteo says, a few feet away from you.

A soft laugh erupts in your throat, rolling your eyes from his compliment, but thanking him nonetheless. Jenna doesn’t know if she’s feeling a strong pit of jealousy that sizzles beneath the back of her mind. Her eyes train on the boy, hazel eyes, brunette hair. 

“Okay okay, stop that,” you grumble, a small smile plastered on your face as you playfully nudge him to show your annoyance.

“Feisty,” he chides.

“The only thing I did differently today is that I curled my hair. You can barely see it in this ponytail,” one hand is pointing to your hair while the other keeps concentrating on the bunny.

“You’re also wearing a bow, your freckles are more visible, mmm,” he thinks for a moment, “Oh and,” he comes closer, whispering in your ear so only you can hear. Your body almost shivers from it, “You’re staring at a new coming regular and smiling like a weird teenager.”

You stop your latte art, groaning in frustration since you were caught by a coworker that also is a kind friend of yours.

“No I’m not, stop whispering in my ear and let me do my latte art,” you shove him away and continue to work on your bunny.

Jenna swallows the prickly feeling in her throat, feeling herself scowl at some guy who’s name tag seems to say, “Mat ear.” Maybe she should switch out acting with latte art for a day.

The bunny looks complete. 

And perfect, you exhale a breath from pride, slide the latte and call out the person’s order with a warm smile.

Then Jenna feels like a fool standing there because she just realized that she’s been staring at you making another person’s latte. Then you feel stupid for not sending someone over to serve her since you’re assuming that she wanted something.

“Sorry!” You apologize, smacking the top of your head as you lean across the countertop, “Hi Jenna, did you want something?” Jenna looks down at your lips for a moment, your teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then trails back up to the menu.

“No worries, I should’ve sat down, I just wanted to visit I guess. Sure. Um,” She doesn’t know what to get.

“Confused again huh?” You tease, looking at the menu then at the lattes. It makes her almost fan herself to know that you know she wants a latte today.

It takes a moment for you to think, “I don’t even think I put this up on our menu, but the other day when I was closing I tried a hazelnut caramel, you down to try that today?”

“That sounds pleasing, sure I’ll take that.”

“Okay, one hazelnut caramel!”

“Dude, I swear your cafe sells at least every pastry known to mankind. Those brownies and chocolate chip cookies look like it could make society salivatate.”

You laugh, “Thanks silly, I just experiment and make sure everyone in NYC can have a taste of home if they are from somewhere else. Sometimes I take my recipes from a past generation baking book, other times I just try baking from eyeing measurements.”

Jenna smiles at that, touching your hand with hers and pressing it down to the counter, “Well trust me, this is probably why you get a hell load of customers every morning.”

A light-hearted, non-forced, soft giggle comes from you, not moving your hand that is pressed from hers.

“As long as it makes others happy and continues a legacy while doing other things I love, and meeting sweet people that mark my memory like you, I think that I wouldn’t trade it. Did you want anything else?”

“I think that’s it today,” Jenna breathes, moving her hand away from yours. Immediately your hand misses the warmth and just wants to pull her back.

She can’t help but notice the smile plastered on your face, “Okay, hazelnut caramel coffee, on the house.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh uh, not on my watch,” Jenna insists, pulling out a 10 dollar bill and immediately you shoo her away.

“On me! Honest! I own this place anyways and it happens at least twice everyday, don’t worry about it love.”

She hears a small “aww” come from her phone and she freezes, her cheeks heating up in an instant.

“I’m paying you one day,”

“If it’s banterings and consistent times that I see you besides Tuesdays and Thursdays, then okay,” your voice echoes as you begin to prepare her latte.

Jenna smiles at you and as soon as she turns around she picks up her phone and curses into it, “What the hell Jas? How the hell did you manage to call me before I got into the shop and stalk into our conversation??”

Snorts and laughs come from the other line, she immediately plugs her earphones in.

“On the house, hmm??” Mason teases, everyone in unison going “ooh la la..” 

“I’m going to chop your heads off-”

“And of course you place your hands on top of hers!! It’s like watching the corniest romance in front of my eyes!”

It had only been 5 minutes that Jenna had talked with you, and somehow she still got stuck and caught by her friends.

“Shut up,” Jenna says, her voice soft, but grumpily as she scoffs.

Melissa, Mason, and Mindy are shouting from outside, she can hear them screaming through the phone.

“Hey,” you say softly, bringing her latte with two wrapped pastries in hand and slide it to her front, “Try the brownies and cookies you were looking at and tell me what you think?”

Jenna wants to keep her cool and to smile politely, but the three crazy people outside that are listening in are making it hard. Especially with all the kissing noises she can hear, so she takes out her earbuds and tosses them in her hoodie’s pocket.

It takes her a while to realize she didn’t buy the pastries that made her hungry.

“Seriously?” 

The way your cheeks curved upwards and your nose scrunched as you smiled made Jenna smile on the spot there, “Seriously,” you assured. 

“I hate you for this,” she says playfully, sarcastically.

“Who can hate two free pastries? That’s a win for me,” you pull the chair out, sitting down as you take a small break, exhaling.

There was a cute cat design on the hazelnut caramel latte, the steaming, sweet bitterness scent that wafts in the air makes Jenna shiver. She plays with the wrapping of the chocolate chip cookie before mumbling a soft, “Thank you.”

“Mmmhm, no problem.”

There's a quiet pause, Jenna sips her latte, looking up at you and seeing you giggle. It’s sweet, light, bitter, and perfect.

You hand her a napkin, there's a small white foaming mustache from the creamer.

It takes a moment as she takes the napkin before you speak again, “So, filming mm? Is it stressful, you know, having to wake up early and doing stuff like that?”

“Honestly, there are days where it can be too much and I need to wind down a bit. But I love seeing cameras and doing something that I have the fortunate privilege of doing, I know a lot of people don’t have that and it makes me grateful.”

You hum in response, nodding, playing with the nape of your shirt.

“I used to want to act and direct,” you smile.

“Really? Why not now?”

Your shoulders shrug, “I still do small stuff, holding cameras, auditioning for stuff, it’s just a little harder since I’m working here and making sure I can continue doing, you know, this. But I love working here, it heals something in me.”

It makes Jenna feel almost bad, not in an overly guilty way. She just can’t fathom feeling pressured to do something instead of going the way you want.

“You have coworkers, you don’t have to be here everyday, you know?” She tilts her head.

Her eyes meet yours, and again she sees those doe eyes, with nothing but something to make her own self melt.

But I'm in so deep

You know, I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger? 

“I know, sometimes I’m afraid this place will go haywire.”

She giggles at that, then thinks for a moment, “You know, I get on set tomorrow at 11, which is later than most days. Do you wanna, you know, just come and look around? The directors and producers are the sweetest people I know and they don’t mind a plus one. I would like, show you around and you can reach out to some people.”

It’s silent, your face is thoughtful as you’re processing what she said.

“I’ll stick by your side the whole time we’re not filming, introduce you to the cast, as long as you don’t do anything silly, which I highly doubt you might.”

“Okay, I’ll have to check in with Matteo, ask him to bring his sister that comes in on Saturdays and switch it to tomorrow.”

The brunette feels her heart flipping and she nods, burying her face in her hands to try and stop the redness that is invading her cheeks.

You come back soon later, beginning to talk about the plan of the coffee shop tomorrow, but Jenna gets distracted, it’s hard seeing Jasmine blowing her breath on the window, making hearts, then wiping the fog and seeing the way all her friends are making dreamy gestures to mock her. They’re all dancing and she wants to flip them off.

“I’ll be there tomorrow, could you by, um any chance, pick me up? I usually walk here and get my car repaired.”

Oh fuck, Jenna thinks, because she get’s picked up by Jasmine and tomorrow Melissa and Mason will be joining, like they do twice a week. She wants to face palm, she can almost picture the way when you make conversation with her in the car tomorrow, she’ll see in the corner of her eye Mason batting his eyelashes and sticking his tongue out.

“Sure, if you’re okay with some of my crazy friends.”

“Tomorrow it is,” you say, waving and ruffling your hair before waving and walking back to work.

Jenna looks down at her earbuds and she completely forgot she didn’t end the call, she just stashed it away, she’s bearing what is to come, putting her earbuds back in.

“SHE’S ASKING HER OUT ON A DATE” (Mason)

“NO WAY” (Jas)

“SHE’S A FOOL” (Jas)

“SHE’S GOING TO GET EMBARRASSED TOMORROW.” (Jas)

Not to mention the way they are waving their hands outside, she can almost hear the screaming from here.

“There’s no way in hell you asked this sweet pretty girl to come on set tomorrow,” Melissa sing-songs.

“Paws off,” she grumbles.

“She wants her for herself, of course.”

“Shut up!”

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega imagine #jenna marie ortega

[barbieaemond]

The King of Qarth (sneak peek)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Qartheen f!reader (use of she/her)

Warnings: angst, mentions of sexual abuse, child bride, smut, some bondage, knife kink, breeding kink (more to be added)

Author’s note: purely based on this vibe. To be posted next week.

Taglist: @zae5 @succnfucubus @arcielee @multyfangirl @credulouskhaleesi @bunbunbl0gs

“Wife, may I introduce you to our noble guest?”

A woman comes forward to greet him when Aemond enters a lavish hall with several windows adorned with colorful drapes of silk. He is sure he has never seen so much marble in his life, feeling even more inappropriate given the state of his clothes and his whole demeanor, shamefully far from the clean, soldierly appearance that left mouth agape.

“Prince Aemond of House Targaryen, from Westeros.” The Salt King declares as the woman stops just before him. The Prince stands tall and imposing, no matter the misery of his shabby clothes, the state of his dishevelled hair falling in silver tangles down his back. He’s still a Targaryen, his chin is high and proud.

“More like from Old Valyria.” She says raising an eyebrow, and sizing him up and down. “He seems to have just emerged from the Doom, miraculously unscathed.”

The Prince does nothing but seethe his teeth behind his dry lips, a distant shame in his eye that quickly turns into a focused and unblinking rage.

“Welcome to Qarth, my Prince. I’d trust your journey was uneventful but…I can see the Red Waste takes its toll, even on Valyrian beauty.”

Aemond takes a good, long look at her, inevitably lingering on her chest, dressed as the common Qartheen fashion dictates: one breast exposed. But a lot more of her is exposed. Her shoulders, her arms and legs, a glimpse of her hips, all crossed by swirling bundles of lilac silk.

If any married woman in Westeros dressed like that in the open, he’s sure any husband would lock her up. At least he would.

“You must excuse my wife, Prince Aemond, or rather, get used to her habit of speaking her mind.”

“Come now, Xavos. Surely Westerosi women can voice their thoughts?” she moves, walking past Aemond and her husband to reach a small table inlaid with gold to pour some greenish beverage into a cup. “I had a maid once, she was from…Rich Garden?”

“High Garden.” Aemond sternly corrects her.

“Ah, yes. A delightful creature, always smelled so good.” She says distractedly “Anyway, she fled from your lands because she liked girls and not boys and she didn’t want to devote her life to being a brood mare sucking a flaccid cock until her hair had gone white.”

Her maids snicker somewhere past Aemond shoulders, stiffening his posture at the liberties those commoners are granted. “I should hope you Westerners listen to your women more than you do your horses.”

Aemond watches as she takes a sip and laces his hands behind, slightly tilting his head for a moment. “Where I come from, women do not possess such a sharp tongue. Furthermore and fortunately, most of them have manners. They know how to address a Prince of the Realm.”

She turns to leave the cup on the same table and glances at Nyla. “Oh, he bites.”

“This is not Westeros, dragon prince.” She says turning to face him with a righteous smile “I don’t need to ask for your permission to speak. The Salt King is my husband, that is why you will hear my maids and everyone else address me as Your Highness. So, you may lower that chin and stop waiting for me to bow down to you because technically my rank is higher than yours. You might say the only one meant to bow in this room were you.”

The silence that follows is so stark that the air the Prince quickly exhales through his nose sounds like thunder, alerting the Salt King. "Come now, wife. Don't wake the beast.” he says lightly, stiffening a smile “And I mean it quite literally. You should see the size of Prince Aemond’s dragon.”

“I heard.” She acknowledges “Jorio said he’s higher than the city walls.”

“She. And twice, than your city walls.” The Prince corrects her again, just as sternly. “She’s the largest dragon alive in the known world.”  

His chin remains high and haughty, simply because he can. Because she knows he could raze the entire city to the ground just by snapping his fingers.

So, she looks down and says “Since you will be our guest, it is my duty as matron of this house to make you feel welcomed. If you would be so kind to follow me, your Grace.” She forces her tone to be as courteous as possible. But then she smiles. “Is my tongue acceptably sharp to your liking now?”

PART 1

#once a teaser always a teaser #the king of qarth #liv (in la vida loca) #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanfiction

[daydreaming-nerd]

Hey, I saw that you are writing to Rhys and I have been asking, I just ask that you be patient because I don't know how to explain it very well

Anyway, would you like a fic, like, with two scenarios? where Rhys and the reader LITERALLY love each other with the same intensity? like, a scenario where Rhys defends and protects the reader, and another where the reader defends and protects him?

Thanks!

Unconditionally (Rhysand x Female! Reader)

Summary: you and Rhysand are fiercely protective of each other no matter what the situation is. 

AN: I hope this is kinda what you were looking for!

Warnings: fluff, mentions of abuse, Amarantha sighting (brotha ew), blood, death, mentions of rape, SA.

When I found the High Lord of the Night Court I was nothing but a weapon crafted and created from birth by Keir. Chosen for my impeccable beauty, Keir had molded me to be an assassin that could rival Azirel himself. Keir had long sought to own the entirety of the Night Court and he had every intention of using me to do it.  My beauty allowed me to seduce any man within an inch of his life. But my sleight of hand and dexterity made me nearly lethal. When Keir wasn’t using me I was locked away deep within the Hewn City, forced to train with men who were much bigger and stronger than me. Oftentimes I thought to run, escape, but I was always beaten into submission. 

The night I met Rhys was the mission I had been bred to complete for many years. I walked into Rita’s dressed to the nines and blended in perfectly. The second the devilishly handsome High Lord made to leave I followed him, waiting in the shadows until it was my time to strike, the second I got the blade under his neck he winnowed out from under me and returned the favor with a blade of his own. I’ll never forget his first words to me...

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing with such a dangerous weapon?” he drawled. 

He could've killed me that night, but he didn’t, he showed me mercy and maybe pity too. It turned out he knew much more of me than Keir thought he did. He saw how scared I was offered me sanctuary. At the time I didn’t have a clue who he was to me, but looking back, I think he knew all along. Through months of getting to know each other despite my fear of him at first, we grew to like each other. Soon we grew to have witty banter that kept me on my toes, and intelligent conversation about anything and everything that would surpass the long hours after dinner.  After a few months he started sending me on missions with Azriel, and eventually after a year or so he sent me on missions of my own, his way of saying he trusted me.  

One fateful mission I was sent on to an Illiryan camp left me battered and bruised. It seemed the Illyrian generals sought to teach me what happens when a woman comes into their camp and causes problems, even if it is at the request of their High Lord. I never would’ve made it home if Cassain hadn’t found my frozen body in the ditch they had left me in. Looking back I was almost thankful for the event, it was how Rhys and I realized we were mates. Ever since then we had been truly inseparable.

“Rhysand, I won’t ask nicely again,” purred that clearly female voice. 

Amarantha had been after Rhys since he escaped from under the mountain, but I had never seen her in the flesh. She would send letters and emissaries asking for Rhysand to be her whore, promising him riches and luxuries beyond his wildest beliefs. Yet now she stood in the townhouse, auburn hair cascading down her bare shoulders, her black off the shoulder dress squeezing her tightly.  How she got here? I don’t know, but I do know that from where I sat in the shadows she wouldn’t see me drive a knife through her skull. 

“Amarantha, I'm a mated male. The answer is no,” Rhysand drawled trying to keep up appearances, but down the bond I could feel a sense of fear. 

“She can watch if she likes,” Amarantha mused, and it was my last straw. 

I snuck up behind her with the stealth and dexterity that had been bred into me from a young age. I hardly needed to use it anymore, being Rhysand’s mate gave me ample immunity across Prythian. But god if there was ever a time. I press my dagger to Amarantha’s throat and I feel her body try to move but she's far too late.

“Sorry Amarantha I don’t like to share,” I growl, pressing the edge of the blade even deeper. 

“Did I mention that my mate is lethal?” Rhysand boasts with pride.

“I’m s-sorry,” she pleads and a tear falls on my black dagger. 

“Now mate,” Rhysand smirks. “We wouldn’t want to get blood on the new rug.”  

I roll my eyes at his snarky remark. It was little comments and that effortless swagger that had made me fall in love with him in the first place.

“Beg,” I utter in her ear. My voice filled with absolute authority. 

“P-please I’ll leave. I-I’ll never come back,” she says through her sobs. 

I yank her hair back further, “Why should I let you go?” I smirk. 

“Because I’m s-sorry. I-I’m so sorry.” she cries even harder.

“Sorry for what?” I ask condescendingly.   

“For what I d-did to R-Rhysand,” she says, like she’s too afraid to reveal the whole truth.

I felt Rhysand tense through the bond but it only made me see red even more, knowing that her presence still affected him. 

“What did you do to my mate?” I ask like I don’t already know the answer. She stays silent, choosing to cower. “Tell me!” I shout. 

“I’m sorry I f-forced him into my b-bed.” she admits and her knees go weak at her admission the only thing keeping her up is my hand in her hair and my dagger to her neck.

I couldn’t help but see the image of him and her. Rhysand helpless below her as she rode his cock, the reason he still was too scared to let me take him that way. Images of him cumming inside her, his body's natural reaction to what she was forcing him to do. I remember how he told me the stories of him crying himself to sleep while she slept soundly and happily. 

“You touched my mate, and for that you’ll pay the ultimate price,” I sentence her. “He’s fucking mine.” I growl before slitting her throat. 

Her body falls to the floor in a heaping pile of dress skirts and her own blood and I toss my bloodied dagger over her dead body. I check my hands for blood, but like a trained assassin should have it, not a drop is on me. 

“Well so much for the rug,” Rhysand drawls, standing from his chair. 

I walk over to him, the rage the mating bond caused me to see drifting away at the sight of him. He wraps his arms around my waist. 

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “But she was a dead woman the second she stepped in this court. Thinking about what she did to you still makes me sick to my stomach.” 

“Shhh,” Rhys coos, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m not mad at you. If you didn’t kill her I was going to.”

“Sorry I kind went all deadly assassin on you, but-” 

“The mating bond was provoked,” he cuts in, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “Trust me I know the feeling. How do you think I feel when you come home injured from a mission?”

“Holy shit y/n!” Cassian drawls from behind me. I turn to find him nudging Amarantha’s limp foot with his boot. “Mating bond chafing a bit?” he chuckles. 

“More than a little bit,” Rhys laughs with male pride. 

I simply raise my eyebrows at the Illyrian in a challenge and pull Rhys down to kiss me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rhys asks me for the millionth time. 

“Yes Rhys I’ll be fine! I promise!” I reply but I wasn’t too sure of my answer. 

I had never been back to The Hewn City since I left on that mission to kill Rhys all those years ago. But today I finally made my return. I had avoided the city as much as possible and Rhys never so much as asked me to come along with him. Returning would mean the torture, the assault and every nightmare I faced here, I would have to face again. Today I had decided I was done hiding, I wanted to face my fear, show Keir that I was more than just what he made me. I knew I would be more vulnerable down here, most likely off my game. But Rhys had assured me we would only be making a quick appearance at the party and then leaving, so I felt now was as good a time as ever. 

“Alight, but if you want to leave at any time you let me know okay?” he says, kissing my brow.

“I will,” I smile. 

We walk through the large doors to find the people of The Hewn City already kneeling. The second I come into view their gasps reverberate throughout the room. Everyone knew I was Keir’s pet, but now I stood dressed in black with a crown atop my head, beside the one man I was bred to kill. The High Lord. 

We take our seats on the twin thrones at the end of the room. Keir bows to us both and I don’t miss the shock in his eyes as he sees what became of his pet. It becomes clear to me that he thought I was dead for all these years, and now I walk into his city once more with a crown on top of my head. 

“Let there be music and dancing!” Rhys proclaims and the room fills with a beautiful orchestra as the festivities begin. 

“Welcome Rhysand, who have you brought with you tonight?” Keir asks, faking his innocence.

“My mate of course,” Rhys says, pressing a kiss to my hand. “I must thank you for introducing us. She is without a doubt the most delectable creature I’ve ever known.” he continues nibbling my palm. 

“I- uh. Well” Keir stumbles over his words. 

“Leave us,” Rhysand orders. 

Keir scrambles down the steps to wherever he thinks he might be safe from Rhysand’s death stare. I knew this place always put him on edge, no doubt with me here tonight he was fuming. 

“How are you feeling?” Rhys asks, fondling my hand.  

“Good, considering I’ve never seen Keir show true fear before,” I laugh replaying the image in my head. 

“Maybe next time I’ll have him juggle and sing you a song then too mate,” Rhys chuckles. 

I watched as people danced and sang and were generally happy. I never knew this side of the Hewn City. The normal side I should say. Keir always kept me locked in the dungeons, the only time I was ever allowed out was on missions and when he chose to parade me around like his little pet. His way of striking fear into the hearts of his subjects. Seeing the people act like, well, people was almost jarring. They were monsters, but they were still fae just like me. 

“I’m thirsty darling, I'm going to grab a glass of wine, would you like one?” I ask Rhys. 

“Yes but let me fetch a servant or come with you.” he replies and I can sense his unease. 

“No, I want to show them all I’m not afraid of them,” I say quietly so only Rhys can hear. He nods his head and I feel him tug on the bond as if to say ‘be safe’. 

I waltz down the dias steps and over to the corner where wine is held in large barrels.  I don’t miss the shocked looks from those around me followed by hushed whispers. No doubt all of them were talking about how I used to be Keir’s pet. I keep my head held high and reach for a glass to fill up. 

“Well hello beautiful,” a deep voice drawls from behind me and I whip around 

My shoulders tense up. I would recognize that voice anywhere. Dante. The man who helped to “train me”  in the art of seduction. He would come into my cell and teach me how to seduce a man, which of course led to him taking advantage of me. He was one of Keir’s favorites. 

“Remember all the fun we used to have little one?” he grins wickedly stepping towards me. 

“Normal people would call that rape,” I snipe at him, trying to act like I’m not terrified. 

“Oh but you used to make such pretty sounds for me,” he teases, stepping closer and I feel my back hit the wall. “Lets see if you still do.” 

In a second his body presses me to the wall and his hands are hiking up my skirts. I try to push him off or look for help, but here in the Hewn City it wasn’t uncommon for males to take what they want when they want it. 

Dante’s motions stop and his eyes go wide, like his brain is about to explode. He falls to his knees before me and every vein in his head and neck look like it’s about to burst. I look up to see Rhys standing behind him, nothing but pure murder in his eyes.

“I would think twice before touching another male’s mate,” Rhys grits out standing in front of me so he can look down on Dante. “Especially your High Lord’s.”  

“I’m sorry Rhysand I didn’t know,” Dante wheezes. 

“Have you touched my mate before?” Rhys asks and Dante neglects to answer. “Very well then I’ll just have to find out for myself.” 

Dante screams in agony writhing on the floor, Rhys no doubt tearing into his mind to find out what he wants to know. I look around at the stunned faces watching one of their own lose his mind in the middle of the ballroom, even the orchestra had stopped. I felt shame fall over me as I realized what Rhys was seeing. Images of me, dirty, bruised and helpless being forced to seduce and please the man writing on the ground. Rhysand’s shoulders tensed and suddenly Dante stopped writhing. 

“So you have touched her before,” Rhysand drawls. “What a pity, I almost considered letting you off with a warning.” 

Within moments Dante’s screams echoed off the walls and I knew what Rhys was doing, he had done it to the Illyrain who threw me in a ditch all those years ago. He was melting his mind from the inside out. He didn’t even have to lift a finger. 

“Let it be known that whoever disrespects my mate again shall meet the same fate!” Rhysand’s voice booms, addressing the crowd now. “Maestro you may continue!” he finishes, turning to me.

Rhysand’s shadows shield us from the rest of the onlooking crowd and the second I look into his eyes I’m immediately comforted. 

“Are you okay?” he asks me, taking me in his arms. 

“Yeah I’m fine, you got here before anything happened.” I sigh, melting into his touch. “I’m sorry you had to see that, you know, the things he did to me. I hoped you’d never know” I say, casting my head down in shame. 

“Hey don’t you dare be ashamed,” he says tilting my chin up. “What he did to you was unforgivable. If I had known earlier I would’ve had his head on a pike.” 

“I love you Rhys,” I say, burrowing my head into his chest. 

“I love you too mate,” he smiles stroking my hair. “Let’s go home.” 

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand smut #rhysand acotar

[lovifie]

Her Royal Highness Pt.5

Masterlist

Prologue — Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

The people of the city turn out to be delighted, elated to be visited by the Princess. And you feel glad because they don't look at you with the fear the guard had, they look at you with happiness in their eyes, joyful the Princess finally left the castle.

They are so happy, that they don't seem to notice the mysterious men that follow you. Not literally, they remained on a table inside the inn, but you can feel their eyes on you at all times. 

It is a nice thing they do, because after a while you start to feel dizzy. People keep pulling you in different directions, wanting to show you places and introduce you to people. You can see the guard from the journey, and he looks ready to pull his hair out every time someone grabs your hand, afraid that you are going to suddenly turn into a tyrant like your late father. 

You won't, of course. Getting a taste of what a kingdom that likes you feels like, you don't want to experience the opposite. At some point, the guard loses his patience and peels your hand away from the people, guiding you to the table where everyone else is eating.

“Ooh, the Princess finally resigned herself to sit with us. Such an honour, your Royal Highness.” Gaz exclaims, standing up just to do a dramatic reverence, with Soap doing exactly the same.

“Sit down, you muppets.” The king orders next to you with a teasing note in his voice. So he can be nice. That's how he sounds when normal. 

“Yes, my dear King” Soap says, doing a second reference before sitting down. Price snickers beside you at Soap's antics, if only you could get on his good side like that. 

Around the rectangular table, you are sitting beside the king on one side, with Gaz, Soap and Ghost sitting on the opposite. Ghost and you are the ones sitting the more far away from each other, which is why it surprises you to see him staring at you.

You maintain eye contact, not wanting to back down first, and surprisingly it's him who does. But only to look at your hand, his eyebrows raise, remembering something. You look at him curious as he gets his hand inside his pocket and pulls something that slides across the table in your direction. 

Five heads look at the object, and soon realize what he throws at you.

A ring. 

A simple small gold band.

For a second, you think that it is just a weird gift from the Prince; a peace offering. But when you look at him, he looks at you expectantly as if waiting for you to answer and it clicks. 

Your soon-to-be husband, is proposing to you.

“That's it?” You ask picking it up to check it better, disappointment clear in your voice. 

“We're you expecting rubies?” He laughs. “I thought you were more humble than that, princess “

“It's not about the ring…” You say looking at it. “I thought you would at least ask me, indulge me a bit and trick me into thinking I had a choice, you know.” 

“If you were expecting me to kneel, you may be more stupid than we thought.” He chuckles drily.

You ignore him, the insult falling on deaf ears at this point and focus on the ring. Just looking at it you know it's not going to be your size, and when you try to get your finger in it, it is so much bigger it could fit two of yours. You realise then, that they didn't even bother to find an actual ring, and just used one they had themselves. 

“It doesn't fit.” You comment, still looking at your hand.

“Close your fist then.” Ghost answers. “Better not lose it.” 

You should hit him. Shove the ring down his throat until he chokes. But you don't, instead, you stand up, ring in hand, and walk up to the room they lend you without saying anything else. 

Some of the maids quickly follow you as you walk upstairs into the room. Your luggage is already there, and you take out the nightgown even though the sun is still out. But your chances are going down to the king and putting up with their passive-aggressive remarks or going out and getting hurt or kidnapped by people's kindness. 

You are far from being used to dealing with this many people on a daily basis, so the silence of the room when you get out of the bathtub makes you want to go to sleep. 

So you step into the room, looking at the ground and closing the door behind you. When you look up to your bed, the bed looks back at you. Well, not the bed, but Simon.

You gasp when you see the behemoth of a man, laying down on his back on your bed without his mask and cape. In his hands, he is playing with a garment you can figure out at first. 

Until he smirks at you, and then you realize is the undergarments you were wearing today. “Simon!” You exclaim, completely scandalized by the violation of your privacy. “That's not yours!” 

The fact that he entered your room while you were bathing becomes a second offence, and you walk up to him ready to take it back. Except it looks like that was exactly his plan because when you extend your hand to try and grab it, he grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him.

You shriek out of the surprise, in part surprised by his strength; able to hold you up by the hand on your wrist and in part, surprised by his lack of decorum. He is so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, he is looking up at you with such a condescending look but it is the eye contact of his golden brown eyes that keeps you in a trance. 

Trance, that gets suddenly broken by a sharp pain in your ass when Simon slaps your ass. You slowly look back at him and slap him back on his chest. “You did not fucking do that!” You exclaim, and he raises his eyebrows. “Princess!” He says covering his mouth with his free hand. “Language!”

You manage to get your hand free and get back on your feet. You point to the door and say: “Get out!”

He barks a laugh sitting up at the edge of the bed, and at a surprisingly fast speed, he hugs your waist pulling you tight against him again. You manage to get your hands on his shoulder, pulling some distance between him and you.

“But I need to check your wound, Princess.” He says looking up through his eyelashes. “The wound is amazing, Simon. You can leave.” You answer, still trying to pull back.

One of his hands moves up to your waist, and with his thumb and index, he presses over your wound, hard, drawing little droplets of blood and making you wince. “That does sound amazing, but I don't think your wound is.” He says pulling his finger back and licking the blood of his thump while looking at you. You can feel the heat in your ears, an obvious sign of your flush, completely uncalled for. 

You're supposed to get warm with gentle touches, grazing hands and kisses on the cheek. Not by this brute, personification of strength, licking your blood.

“Let me see it, Princess.” He says sternly looking at you. You feel trapped, like in a cage… a really warm cage. So you start to pull the gown up, and you can feel Simon's eyes drag up the newly exposed skin, you are not wearing anything under the nightgown and he notices his eyes widening slightly. One of your hands remains between your legs, making sure only the outside of your leg is exposed as the other rises the gown up to right below your boob where the wound is. 

Simon sets his hand on your knee engulfing it, and apparently, he needs to move his hand up your tights, your hips and up to under your boob just to check the wound. He touches the wound, moving his thumb across it and his fingernail grazes your underboob causing you goosebumps. You turn your head, unable to keep looking at his face, letting a sight escape your lips trying to play it out as a sight of annoyance. 

“You were right, it looks good.” He murmurs, when you feel his breath against your skin you whip your head back to look at him, just to see him lick a strip right under the wound, causing a whine out of you at the heat of his tongue. 

You slap his shoulder this time, taking a step back and putting the nightgown down. “Why did you do that? You are gonna get it infected!” He simply laughs at your face and adds: “Sorry, Princess, I just wanted a taste. It was too tempting.”

“You are a really weird man, Simon Price!” You exclaim, moving back until your back hits the wall, putting as much space as possible between him and you. 

He looks at you confused, before standing up and walking up to you. “Why do you say that, Princess?” He asks, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm?”

“One second you do these… things. Next second you don't even look at me and treat me like trash.” You say looking at the floor. 

He chuckles, cupping your face making you look up to him. “Is this because I told you I wouldn't kneel? Now, Princess. I already gave you the ring, why else do you want me to kneel for you, hm?” He asks getting his face close to yours, for a second you panic he would kiss you, but just before reaching it, he moves to your ear and whispers: “Naughty, girl.”

Putting his hands on your hips, he turns you around leaving you staring at the wall. “Better to check the exit too.” He murmurs against your neck. “Do it quick, and leave.” You order, trying to remain calm.

Instead, he takes his time. Crouching down, knee almost touching his ground, and he grabs the hem of the gown, and slowly, really slowly, as if time has stopped and therefore he had all the time in the world, he starts to raise it, with his fingertip gracing the skin of your leg, fingernail scratching just at the verge of pain. 

Goosebumps spread as he rises, up your calf, up your thigh, up your arse, which he touches with no remorse, and up your back. With one hand, he holds the gown up, and with the other, he caresses your hip. 

You don't feel his eyes on your wound, you feel them lower. And if you have the courage, you would confront him; but coming face to face and he proudly admitting, because he would, that yes, in fact, he was staring at your arse, it's not something you could bear without blushing and therefore feeding his ego. 

“How is it?” You ask, growing impatient with his lack of sounds.

“Amazing, indeed.” He answers immediately, and you know he is not talking about the wound, but that'll do for now. So you take a step to the side, getting out of his hold and let the gown back down, covering your body.

“Great, then you can leave.” You say, crossing your arms unable to look at him. 

“But why? I'm enjoying myself in here, Princess.” He says chuckling at you. 

“Precisely!” You exclaim and grab his wrist, him obviously letting you drag him. You open the door, ready to throw him out when you come to face with Gaz who looks ready to knock at the door. He looks between Simon and you, before gasping loudly.

“Premarital encounters?!” He asks smiling widely, and making you roll your eyes, pushing Simon out of the room and slamming the door. Hearing the two men laugh loudly on the other side.

The next morning, a quick breakfast is eaten. The ring is not on your finger, too big to be comfortable to wear; instead, it is hanging from your neck with a threat. It rests on the center of your chest, so everyone can see it. 

“Princess, I had an idea last night.” The king breaks the silence. “Once we are back at the kingdom, how about we arrange a joust? To welcome everyone that will help arrange the wedding. I'll help everyone to cheer up a bit.” He asks, looking at you.

“A joust?” You ask a bit surprised by the offer. There is still a sour taste on your tongue, it is only for the wedding, so people like him more. But again, he is asking you. Not for your consent, he would do it anyway. But to make you feel like you are actually heard. His voice saying “We are more powerful together than against each other” comes to mind, and you decide to play along: “Sure, that sounds fun.” 

Hii! 💗

Sorry for taking so long to update this series, the Lift me off my feet completely took me away. Thank you so much for being so patient with me ❤️❤️❤️

TagList: @kristalhi @strawberrygato @ghostlythots @dumybitch @infpt-zylith @jupiternighties @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @whos-fran @darkangel4121 @thevoidwriting

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #medieval #medieval au #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod fic

[night-daily]

It's always been you | Luke Castellan x Apollo! fem! reader

summary: It's Valentine's day at the half blood camp and you try to show your love for Luke but you aren't the only one who wants him.

warnings: not proof reading, sorry!

a/n: i know its not valentines anymore but its still february, so enjoy ;)

It's Valentine's day, finally. You've been waiting for this day to come since you stepped into the camp a half year ago and then got claimed as Apollo's children, which wasn't a full surprise, according to Luke, you fit just well at his cabin, you're an expert archer, a healer who always helps everyone and a great singer with the sweetest voice I've ever heard, you put to shame at anyone who thinks can sing. And since that moment, Luke stole your heart, well, not literally, of course, but sometimes you doubt that, why else you only feel alive when he's around you? or when one of his smiles is directed at you or when you hear his laugh and you're the cause of it.

So yeah, you were waiting Valentine's day just to confess your feelings to Luke, it was cliche but it was the perfect day at the same time, and to be honest, you couldn't wait another day.

You sealed the letter, keeping the contain in secret, a nervous giggle escaping from your mouth, “Today is the day, what can go wrong, right?”

“Luke will be a fool if he rejects you, and I don't think he will either, he looks at you with heart eyes, even a blind person can see it, so you don't have anything to worry about” One of your sisters gives you a quick hug before heading to the bathroom.

A sudden confidence runs through your body at her words, taking a deep breath and you walk out of your cabin to Luke's, holding carefully the letter in your hand.

As you walk, you see everyone rushing from side to side carrying flowers, cakes, even swords, so this is Valentine's at the camp, uh? Not so different from the exterior world.

You're finally a few steps from Luke's cabin, but apparently you're not the only one, there is a big crowd outside, waiting for something, no, someone.

what the f—

“If Luke keeps receiving more chocolates, he'd open a candy store for sure” A group of guys says at your side. You knew Luke was popular, and you expected that would be a few people aside you who will try to gain his heart, but damn, how could you compete with half of the camp? Why he would like your gift? Why he would choose you?

The confidence left your body, feeling defeated, you turned in your steps, and walked away not before glancing behind you, only to find more people arriving with gifts in their hands.

A bitter smile is on your face now, “It could be worse, I guess”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The rest of the day you felt irritated, seeing everyone so happy holding hands, exchanging gifts, or just talking to each other lovely, 'cause you were supposed to be doing all this stuff with Luke. Your friends noticed your change of humor but no one dared to say anything, and you were glad they didn't, you know the moment they asked you if you were okay, you'd cry. And that's the last thing you need right now.

Also, you were going to ignore Luke but it seemed the other way. Every time he tries to reach you, a group of girls will come out of nowhere and interrupt him, and being the nicest person you know, which is one of the things you love about him, he won't tell them to back off and that gives you time to leave without him noticing. At least that's what you thought.

The night before Valentine's, Luke barely slept, he spent half of the night, out of the camp, he went to the city when everyone was sleeping to get your gift. He was supposed to get it a week before but the store said they'll get new ones until February 13, so here he was.

He knew you'd like it, after all, he saw it in your eyes at the moment your gaze fell on that beautiful harp.

It was night, and you were walking to your cabin, you were tired after practicing with your arrow.

“Hey, wanna get out of the camp with me?” Your head turned faster than you anticipated at the sound of his voice reaching your ears, “Sure” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to act indifferent but to be honest, you'd follow Luke to the Tartarus without thinking, you trusted him with your whole life.

He extended his hand to you, an invitation, your heart beating faster, and you finally lied your hand on his. And then the two of you slipped through the forest, holding hands and glancing behind you, to make sure no one would snitch on you.

All the way to the city was an adventure, like always when you were with Luke. A few monsters appeared on your way but the best swordsman was beside you and quickly, he defeated them. And you were ready to help him (not that he needed it) but Luke told you, “If someone can't take a few monsters for you, then they're not worth it” And he returned to fight while you were too stunned to do or say anything.

After that, he cleaned himself with some water and you two continued on your way to the city, talking and laughing all the way, and sooner you were on some random street of the city, watching all around you. Everything glowed almost like your cabin, but what really caught your eye, was a big golden harp, with crystal flowers on it, and it made it brighter, but instead of making you look to other way it only made you look at it intensely. Your eyes were glued to the harp, and your feet to the ground, so when Luke noticed you weren't by his side, he got worried, looking at the crowd around him, he finally spotted you, you were in front of a store, looking something. When he walked next to you, he understood why you stopped, indeed was beautiful.

“Wanna ask the price?” Your eyes didn't move from the harp, “No need, there's the price but it's too expensive, I can't afford it” Luke looked at the sign and you were right. “Who says you have to pay for it?” He was teasing you now, “I'm not stealing it, Luke” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his hand and walked away from the beautiful harp.

The son of Hermes just smirked shaking his head, you don't have to steal it.

He laughs just remembering that night, now with the harp in his arms, rushing to his cabin without being caught. He was seriously exhausted from being chased by the employees of the store, they're seriously worse than the monsters.

He placed the harp on one of the night tables beside his bed. The plan was to leave it at your cabin, so it'd be the first thing you'd see when you wake up, but the tiredness screamed to his body to just lie down and he promised he'd deliver to you in the morning, which will it be in two hours-ish.

But when the morning came, he only woke up by the noise around him. Who could be making so much noise so early? Opening his eyes, he noticed he was surrounded by boxes of chocolates, roses, everything.

what the h—

“You're finally awake, we're trying to clean up the entrance, but there's a huge mountain of gifts for you, so we'll be glad if you help us”

Gifts? Mountain?

“Shit! It's Valentine's” The sudden realization makes him fully awake. The harp was still on his night table, untouched. He cursed himself and hurried to take a shower, he couldn't wait to see you.

But the day didn't go as he planned, everything was wrong, and it was night already. Luke was waiting for you at the campfire, the harp by his side, but ten minutes went by and you didn't show up. He begin to worry, why would you miss it? You adore singing and everyone loves to hear you, especially him.

Once again, he grabbed the harp, and made his way to your cabin. You're outside, sitting alone, your legs crossed and with something in your hands. You close your eyes and your sweet voice breaks the silence, you're singing, but it's not a song he can recognize nor the sentiment you're used to sing, usually you sing only happy songs, it's weird when you sing something so... nostalgic.

He walks closer, he's only a few steps from you, when his name comes out of your mouth.

And you've seen all my darkest fears Like you've known me for a thousand years The girl who's really underneath All the scars and insecurities, baby I swear that you've been sent to save me You're Luke, the only one that my heart keeps coming back to

The song is about him. A million thoughts running in his mind. When did you write it? Why didn't you sing to him? And—

“Do you really feel that way about me?” Your eyes don't meet his at first, but you are tired of running away from your feelings, it was or never “Yes” His eyes look at yours deeply, almost like he could see the truth from them. If it weren't for the harp on his arms, he would just run to you, but instead, he put it on the floor next to you, your eyes open fully when you see it. It's the harp you wanted.

You jump into his arms, and he catches you quickly, holding you tight, your faces so close that you can feel his breath, he looks at your cherry lips, licking his, you're waiting for him to kiss you, but he takes his time to admire your face, how could someone be so pretty?

You can't wait any longer, and connect your lips, they're soft and rough, the perfect combination, and the best part it's, that they fit with yours, like a puzzle piece.

“This belongs to you” He nods his head to the harp, “Now you can sing it again”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

song: Always been you by Shawn Mendes

#valentine's day with night daily #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x fem!reader