#the person on the other end wants to know how you are but more importantly wants you to be okay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badasbebi · 2 days

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imagination's curse

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✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.

✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp

✦ word count: 6k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)

✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!

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Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.

You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.

"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"

Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."

"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.

She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.

"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.

"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.

You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.

She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."

The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.

"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.

Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.

The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."

As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.

A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.

"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.

You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."

After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, definitely," you lie.

"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.

Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.

"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.

You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.

As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.

In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.

Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.

Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?

Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.

You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.

You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.

After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.

The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.

Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.

As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.

The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.

Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.

Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.

For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.

Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.

"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.

"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.

Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.

"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."

"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.

She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"

And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.

You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."

You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.

"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.

"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"

Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."

"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.

You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.

You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.

That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.

You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.

"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.

The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.

You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.

She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"

You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"

Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.

"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."

As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.

You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."

The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.

"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.

"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.

"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"How do you know that?"

She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."

"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.

"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."

The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.

Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.

The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.

"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.

"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"

You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."

Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.

Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.

"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.

"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."

The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.

She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.

"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."

Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.

"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.

You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.

She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"

"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.

"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.

"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.

She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.

"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.

She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.

"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.

"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.

Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.

"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."

She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.

Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.

"Something wrong?"

"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.

"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."

You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.

You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.

"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.

She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.

A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.

She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.

"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.

Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.

She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.

"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.

You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.

She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.

"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.

She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.

She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.

"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.

"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.

Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?

"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.

She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.

"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."

She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.

"So easy to please," she teases.

"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.

Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.

"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."

You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.

One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.

"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.

She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."

You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.

"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.

Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.

"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee imagine #bada lee smut

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emotionallychargedtowel · 1 day

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prying off the shell

Hayama's friend Mihara makes a really trenchant observation in episode 7 of 25 Ji Akasaka de. First he points out that Shirasaki doesn't seem to have a "shell"--his way of talking about a social self, a persona that a person experiences as separate from their core self. Then he points out that Hayama not only has a "shell," he has multiple layers of shell, so many that it's essentially impenetrable. If you explore what's underneath his social persona, there's just another persona, and another under that, with no end in sight, like a seemingly neverending set of matryoshka dolls. At first Mihara says this to draw a parallel between the two, to claim they're similar. But when he elaborates, Hayama responds by saying it sounds like he's describing them as complete opposites. Mihara accedes to this and sums things up by pointing out that life is bound to be hard for someone in either of those positions.

Actually, both are true. These two ways of being have some significant overlap in their execution, and they also have huge fundamental differences at their cores.

One of the biggest things that Shirasaki and Hayama have in common is the fact that there's little difference between their public personas and their private selves. Shell-less Shirasaki is the same candid, sensitive person whether he's alone with someone he cares about or interacting in public with people he doesn't know very well, because he doesn't have a special persona for public settings. He's just Shirasaki inside and out and makes no bones about it--nor does it ever seem to cross his mind to do so. But he probably couldn't if he did want to.

Hayama's multilayered shell creates a similar effect for the opposite reason. Hayama has a carefully constructed social self. But if you bring him into a private setting, even if he sets aside his most public persona, you're just going to be presented with another carefully constructed persona designed to navigate a particular social situation. This means that public Hayama and private Hayama aren't that different. They may seem different at times, but that's only because he tailors his personas for different settings. He must be very skilled at it after all these years.

This opposite-yet-similar relationship is also present in how they both relate to acting in general, and more specifically to the idea of having a "fake" dating relationship with a costar for the purpose of improving a performance. For Hayama, acting is an opportunity to express emotions in a way that he can't otherwise. It's not just that acting provides a loophole from the system of rules he grew up with, though importantly, it does do that. He says that the way he learned as a young child not to express too much emotion around his mother was to make himself numb. Since he learned this lesson at such a young age, his ability to get in contact with his authentic emotions has atrophied. Acting provides him not only with permission to show emotion to portray in his performance, but also with ready-made words and actions he can use to do so. In other words, Hayama yearns for the freedom to express feelings, but if he had to express his own emotions he probably wouldn’t know how to access them. So it helps that acting comes with a script that can tell him how he's supposed to feel and how he's supposed to express that. When Hayama acts, he places a sort of veneer of a private self over his shell, and this allows him to experience something similar to being his authentic self.

Shirasaki doesn't tell us explicitly what he gets out of acting, the way Hayama does. But I think it must be the opposite of what Hayama gets out of it in a way. For Hayama, acting is a way of getting around his overactive system of control and gaining back some lost immediacy. For Shirasaki, for whom emotional immediacy is as natural as breathing, I think acting must provide a greater sense of control. It must be so taxing for Shirasaki to live in the world without a shell. He's buffeted about by social forces that he lacks resources to navigate and the unpredictable events that ensue hit him harder because of his unguarded authenticity. Acting could be a way of making these experiences predictable. He may not know what's going to happen to his shell-less self in his everyday life, but at work, the script tells him exactly what to expect. It must also be nice for Shirasaki to gain respect and validation for his authenticity after what I can only assume has been a lifetime of being criticized for that aspect of himself.

In a related way, Shirasaki's main challenge as an actor is also very different. He's great at the expressiveness part of acting. If he can feel something, he can portray it in his performance, because authenticity is so natural to him. If anything, he doesn't have a choice--he doesn't know how to stop being authentic. Issues come up, however, when he doesn't have an easily accessible emotion that maps onto how his character feels. He has an amazing delivery system for emotion that brings his feelings to the audience, but a delivery system only works if you have something to deliver. The situation that drives the story in 25 Ji is the fact that Shirasaki has to seek out these raw materials in order to perform.

One of the biggest issues I've had with this series from the beginning is the idea that a supposedly gifted actor like Shirasaki would think that he has to have firsthand experience with something in order to portray it (leading to his trip to the gay bar, his initial encounter with Hayama, and their pretend relationship). But this way of conceptualizing Shirasaki's personality goes a long way toward explaining that. If you don't know how to be fake in your private or your professional life, of course you'll have more of a need for firsthand experiences to draw from. It might also be a factor that Shirasaki is less likely than others to realize, and/or care, that this form of "rehearsal" generally isn't done.

Once Shirasaki and Hayama begin their pseudo-relationship, their distinct ways of relating to the world impact their experiences. For Hayama, there isn't that much difference between this pretend relationship and a supposedly real one. We don't know anything about his dating history, but it seems doubtful that any past relationships would have been appreciably more authentic than this one. After all, Hayama doesn't even know how he really feels half the time. How could he be emotionally present with another person under such circumstances? So their pseudo-relationship feels as authentic to him as any "real" one he's had, and quite possibly more so given the strength of his feelings for Shirasaki. This goes back to my first point--there's little difference between Hayama's public and private selves--and just puts it in a relationship context. Basically, a fake relationship and a real one are similar for him because both are equally fake.

Once again, Shirasaki's public and private selves are also remarkably similar, but in a different way and for different reasons. He welcomed the pseudo-relationship because he needed firsthand experience to fuel his performance, but his lack of a shell and lack of skill at pretending make it so that acting out a relationship and actually being in one are hard for him to distinguish. In other words, a fake relationship and a real one are similar for Shirasaki because both are equally real.

These opposite ways of relating bring the lead characters into somewhat similar positions at times, but for very different reasons. For a while, these opposites were so complimentary that they balanced each other out. That balance created stability. Their pseudo-relationship was easier to navigate then, but if it had continued that way, it would have been hard to topple in favor of something real.

There's one thing that keeps these opposing approaches from truly being mirror-image versions of each other, though: the fact that Hayama's feelings for Shirasaki are causing his authentic self to strain against the confines of his shell. If he could easily keep going the way he always has, and felt no need to change, any real relationship between him and Shirasaki would be pretty much doomed. But even the thickest shell has a center. There's a little nugget of authentic self that Hayama has had shuttered away inside his shell for most of his life. It hasn't seen light in a long time. It hasn't grown much since he was a child, because it hasn't been allowed to. But it has always been very responsive to contact with Shirasaki, even from afar. Now that Hayama has been able to get closer to Shirasaki, that little nugget of selfhood is growing exponentially, and as it grows it gets stronger and more insistent.

Hayama says that being with Shirasaki feels like having his shell "pried off." This is how that happens. It's bound to be scary, maybe even terrifying, to go through that. It's a kind of personal growth that Hayama probably couldn't find the motivation to push through if he didn't want so badly to be close to Shirasaki for real. But he does want that very deeply, enough to take this risk. So the different ways that Hayama and Shirasaki relate to the world, which had been such stable opposites, are on their way to becoming less perfectly balanced and thus more amenable to change.

There's a catalyst on the horizon: the love scene Hayama and Shirasaki are about to film for their drama. Hayama usually relies on a script to tell him what to feel and how to express that emotion in his work. His shell remains in place during that process because there's a difference between the little bit he can still feel of his real emotions and the emotions he portrays. But his role in the drama he's making with Shirasaki has been growing closer and closer to how he really feels. The love scene seems poised to bring him even closer to his own authentic experience. If the role he plays, the emotions he allows himself to show, sync up enough with the emotions of the little nugget of real self he still has, it could be a key to unlocking his shell. If he's able to speak from his authentic experience, he could find a way to tell Shirasaki how he feels. If he's able to show real emotion in the process, Shirasaki will be able to see the difference and understand what it means.

#25 ji akasaka de #at 25:00 in akasaka #25 ji akasaka de meta #hayama x shirasaki #japanese bl

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mantisgodsdomain · 2 months

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Slowly, yet painfully realizing that we're probably the exact type of person that random fandom guys would miscast as a father.

#we speak #internet teenagers keep coming to us as like the only authority figure on hand who will treat them like people #and we're like... please... we don't want to be an authority figure... why do all of your parents suck so hard...#like we're willing to offer ourself as an anchor as well as we can because we've Been there and know how it feels #but like damn. who the fuck let your families suck this bad. how on earth have situations managed to produce enough of you #that we end up being cast as The Only Adult On Hand Willing To Listen And Talk Through Things MULTIPLE TIMES #and perhaps more importantly why are we the only person in random fandom discords who is willing to treat teenagers like People #weren't the rest of you also teenagers at some point??? don't you like remember how it feels like to not have agency for shit???#experiencing the “only person in the room who's willing to take a position” thing #despite there being like multiple other people in the room who should be WAY more qualified for this #how does this keep happening and more importantly why are we the only guy in the area who is doing anything to help #just to stress this point #we are trying our hardest to NOT be an authority figure because historically it ends terrible for us due to The Mental Health Issue #but somehow we are continually running into situations where we're the only guy willing to come up to plate #the syndromes. the issues. we are so fucking glad that this particular wave is coming now instead of A Few Years Ago #something something progress but also we dislike that we have to be the one handling these situations #because we shouldn't be considered a primary point of stability in anyone's life and the fact that we ARE a stable point to anyone is uhh #weird to think about. who let this happen. we're not old enough to be a parent #and we also find it very alarming that there are so many of you out there who are severely lacking in support #someone needs to work out a childcare arrangement system that doesn't suck because the current one really isn't doing it #while we're at it we can start overhauling the culture that landed us in being the only person willing to listen to people like ever #and maybe make it so we don't have to be a primary support because people are sufficiently supported already

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inkskinned · 1 year

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it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

#something something toxic relationships notwithstanding #(re: the friends stuff)#most people love you. automatically. for being alive. like people are just MADE that way.#and the reason kms jokes don't always land is bc people fucking love you and are like - ahhh how do i help #let them help you!!!!!!

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ochibrochi · 3 months

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spontaneous magic manifestation was NOT mentioned in the parenting handbook 😬

I know this isn’t how magic in dc works, but the fact that Damian’s ancestry includes some pretty powerful magic users is… INTERESTING 🤔? Drabble under the cut!

I wanna preface that I'M NOT SAYIN' that Damian should/does have magic powers, but there’s still so much unexplored potential with Damian's character, and the thought that he has a dormant adeptness in magic is somewhat compelling to me. Most importantly it would FREAK! BRUCE! OUT!!!!! What is this, magic puberty 😭??

By DC laws, anyone has the ability to learn magic, but it is also possible to be an innate ability. The Al Ghuls are no strangers to the occult-- Ra's has had increasingly been portrayed as a magic user, and the recent establishment of his mother being a sorceress/witch?? Even Talia dabbled in a bit of magic, I think. There is a catch that their power is suggested to be due to Lazarus exposure, but for arguments sake let's say the Al Ghul lineage is inherently proficient in magic (and Lazarus exposure simply enhances it).

I can't recall "magic" being a part of Damian's training/upbringing (I'm still slowly catching-up on Damian comics so apologies if I miss any canon examples of magic use). Not sure why Talia wouldn't want her little "heir to an ancient assassin empire baby" to learn magic, but it would at least give reason to Damian not knowing about his magic potential, or lack of interest in it.

Through the power of pseudo storytelling, what if Damian's encounter with Mother Soul could have triggered a manifestation of magic that was once dormant; like a pressure cooker waiting to explode with energy when it hasn't been given a safe outlet.

I've yet to read a satisfying arc where Damian truly gets to contemplate his Al Ghul roots outside of "dad is good guy, mum is bad guy". Damian's initial character growth stems from him running away from, and renouncing his association with the League (i.e. "I'm nothing like you, mother and grandfather!").

The most recent thing I've read was Robin (2021), and whilst Damian is much more cordial with his mother, there's still an emotional distance and sense of distrust/resentment (for good reason, even if the context was some cartoonishly evil writing). But there is a silver-lining that they still appear to be fond of each other, in a melancholy kind of way.

Realizing he's "genetically" primed for magic would be especially confronting to Damian. There's no denying his Al Ghul blood, forcing him to confront a facet of himself he can no longer ignore or reject. A family that he likely has to approach for help/guidance.

Damian is put in a position of acknowledging this power could be used for good, to be stronger, to fight crime, balancing it with the implication that what he possesses could be rooted in dark magic (Lazarus enchantment).

If he decides to embrace it, would that be too much of an endorsement of the Al Ghul's dark occultism? Can he separate the two ideas? What if he can't control it? What if he accidentally hurts someone? What if has the ability to save someone where his other skills fall short?

Ideally, I'd love for this hypothetical story to lead into Damian exploring his Al Ghul heritage more intimately, historically, and spiritually (à la RSoB: Year of Redemption adventures). Another little coming-of-age self discovery journey.

I have my own little personal thoughts on what Damian decides to do with his magic powers, but I'd like to leave that open to interpretation... By the end of it I hope that he will at least find some forgiveness over resentment, and a balance between accepting that side of his family a little easier. It is finally a sense of inner peace :)

Any thoughts? Did I get any characterisation wrong? Let's talk over on my DC blog @arkhamochi! I'm currently trying to read all Damian-centric comics until I catch up with the current run. I'm hungry for discussion and analysis!!!!!!

#batman #batman and robin #damian wayne #bruce wayne #dc comics #P.S. drabble is kinda LONG so DO NOT read more unless you want the inconvenience of scrolling

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actual-changeling · 7 months

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we do not talk enough about the moment right before crowley puts his sunglasses back on. the "nothing lasts forever" is devastating and if you're like me your eyes were so full of tears you couldn't see the screen the first time you watched it (just like crowley, look at us all twinning in sadness!).

there is a shift that happens in his eyes and i think it is absolutely fascinating and heartbreaking at the same time.

we begin with crowley averting his gaze from aziraphale's face and staring off into the distance instead, and you can see his spirit break. that crowley just lost the one thing in the world he cannot live without and we can see it written across his face like a neon sign.

then, as you'd expect, he gives into the need to cover up his pain, to try and make himself less vulnerable, and even before he lifts his glasses he looks down so aziraphale can no longer see his eyes.

now, the next part is what would not let me out of its grasp all day. we know it happens because of his demeanour afterwards and up until the kiss, but you can actually watch as crowley makes himself numb to the world.

i am intimately familiar with dissociation as a trauma and stress response, and while you can never fully control it, you do eventually find the switch in your mind that makes you snap back into the haze. crowley has had six thousand years to get really, really good at leaving reality behind when he needs and/or wants to.

that's exactly what he does.

he still looks sad, and yet there's just something distinctly distant in his eyes, the shift from openly heartbroken to "i don't want to feel any of this let me leave".

glasses? on

emotions? off

hotel? trivago

i have stared at those four frames more than any person probably should and i don't know if it's the light, if i am going insane, or if there is a single tear sliding out of his right (our left) eye. i'm probably insane and the light is a bitch so if anyone has some high resolution shots or anything that could answer that question without a doubt PLEASE do add it.

by now you are probably ready to threaten me with a knife in a dark alley but before you do that or drive your car off a cliff, let me tell you the best part:

aziraphale notices.

they might be communicating on two different frequencies but aziraphale knows crowley. he knows and loves him, and, most importantly, over the last few years he has gotten used to seeing crowley without his glasses. aziraphale could probably write a book on the expressions in his eyes alone and watches that shift happen and is devastated.

look.

he tries to make himself hope the same second, tries to convince himself crowley is putting on his glasses so they can leave together, but he knows.

aziraphale sees the light leave crowley's eyes, sees crowley leave, knowing that he is quite literally running away from him. you and me against the world, angel, but in that moment crowley firmly pushes him back to "the world" (or tries to, anyway).

the entire season we see crowley take off his glasses whenever he enters the bookshop to the point where he's running around without them on in broad daylight with jimbriel right there.

can you imagine how hurt and confused aziraphale must be?

because what crowley is telling him, if we really, really break it down, is that aziraphale is no longer a safe person for him. and repairing that trust is going to take time and work, no matter how much crowley loves him, how badly they love and need each other.

anyway to seal this off and really rub in the pain - how it started vs. how it ended. <3

oh one last thing: now crowley no longer has a single person he can be himself around, no one that knows him, no one he trusts. no one in whose presence he can take his glasses off.

and outside of the bentley and his own flat, he no longer has a place to do so either. the bookshop was theirs. with aziraphale gone, is it really a safe place anymore? is it somewhere he can just let himself be knowing he will be looked after and protected?

easy answer: no.

alright, off i go. see y'all on the next angst post or in the tags.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #the final fifteen #good omens meta

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astonmartinii · 3 months

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a spoonful of sugar part two | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader

cheffing it up all over the calendar, here we go again

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 201,844 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: we're in JAPAN 🇯🇵 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!! yeah suzuka is cool and all but more importantly - SUSHI TIME and my oh my that spread is glorious if i do say so myself

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user1: oscar babygirlism is so real

landonorris: HOW DARE YOU GUYS INVITE ME OVER FOR DINNER AND SERVE THAT

yourusername: boo fucking hoo, i've had enough of your whining buddy

landonorris: OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEING MEAN

oscarpiastri: i mean i would take the home-cooked meal from the professional chef but that's just me

landonorris: stop shaming me :( i can't help it :(

yourusername: okay stop being dramatic, you can comeback from your hiding place i made chicken sushi as well

landonorris: oh thank you 😊

oscarpiastri: when i came in as the YOUNGER teammate, i didn't think y/n and i would be babysitting you

landonorris: you guys love me really

user2: i think y/n might have the patience of a saint

user3: i think i would die happy if i got a sushi spread from y/n

yukitsunoda0511: personally offended i was not invited :(

yourusername: nooooooooooo yukiii :((((( - i'll bring left overs ?

yukitsunoda0511: yes please (i'm much nicer than lando)

landonorris: when will the slander end?

oscarpiastri: i'm personally offended that any time y/n is visiting ME she ends up cooking and looking after all of you :(

yourusername: i love you the most though

oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe

user4: this relationship is so precious to me actually

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri: over the moon to get my first podium in f1 in my rookie season. p.s. get yourself a girlfriend that gives you a candy bouquet to celebrate your podium

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user5: oscodium i know that's right

mclarenf1: we don't think that's in your meal plan, but we'll let it slide for just this once

yourusername: damn right you will 🔫🔫🔫

oscarpiastri: okay no threatening my team on a post about my podium

yourusername: i guess they're fine (FOR NOW) (the next time i see team orders it's on sight)

mclarenf1: ... does this mean no more pasta parties? :(

yourusername: get my boy his first win and pasta for life for all of you

user6: the way y/n and oscar's mum both fell into each other when oscar crossed the finish line

user7: they're so real for that

user8: y/n is REAL wag representation, i too would go FUCKING mental if my boyf got a podium i would also be spraying champagne all over the garage and crying my eyes out

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU MORE, THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME - and looking after my mum after you caused a stampede in the garage

yourusername: hold on nicole is just as crazy as me

oscarpiastri: my two favourite women EVA

user9: when you're besties with your boyf's mum >>

landonorris: congrats oscahhhhhhh - how does one procure one of these bouquets?

oscarpiastri: hands off pal 🤨

landonorris: i just want CANDY STOP ACCUSING ME OF STUFF

yourusername: oh so now you want my food ....

landonorris: why are you ganging up on me ??? I'M JUST A CHILD ???

user10: i love watching oscar and y/n ganging up on lando

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 309,788 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

logansargeant: category is: thirdwheeling - the food is a definite plus

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user12: the real best trio in f1 ... sorry 2019 rookies

alexalbon: logie bear beating the unseasoned allegations... i am impressed

logansargeant: i am cultured?

yourusername: logan had no choice, he was eating what i made him

logansargeant: but i liked it!

yourusername: you did, i'm a proud mother

alexalbon: what are the chances of me and james getting some of the y/n food, we deserve it more than mclaren

yourusername: name the price...

user13: i love how oscar and y/n have collected so many drivers this season despite being the youngest

oscarpiastri: not even finished my first season and we've accumulated so many "children"

logansargeant: don't have a gf who is such a good chef if you didn't want to babysit me

yourusername: we can't help it we're mOTHER

oscarpiastri: 💅

charles_leclerc: @oscarpiastri did our post podium dinner in aus mean nothing? you're neglecting your 26 year old child

maxverstappen1: classic treatment of the eldest girl 😔

yourusername: you guys done being dramatic?

charles_leclerc: one second

charles_leclerc: YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE, PICK ME UP AND DROP ME - USERS !!!!

charles_leclerc: okay done :)

oscarpiastri: ok... idk what the fuck is going on here

maxverstappen1: we want food [bangs cutlery on imaginary table]

user14: oscar going from being the shy one on the grid to wrangling charles and max is killing me

user15: him and y/n have the grid wrapped around their finger

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 730,844 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: this is everything you have ever deserved

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user18: i am going to throw myself on the track and let oscar run me over and put me out of my misery

oscarpiastri: i love you so much, couldn't do it without your support

yourusername: NUH UH you're SUPER DUPER AMAZINGLY FAST and i am lucky to be here to witness you :)

oscarpiastri: okay.... but no more passing out in the garage

yourusername: i'm just a girl 🎀

oscarpiastri: my girl x

yourusername: YOUR GIRL (i've seen the tiktok edits BACK OFF)

user19: the way the other team members and teams let them have their moment was so cute

user20: zak brown pushing her to the front to be able to see him on the podium... maybe i don't hate him as much as i thought

user21: her taking ten billion photos while crying her eyes out was so cute

yourusername: they're all blurry 🧍🏻‍♂️

maxverstappen1: i guess you're the only one i'll tolerate outshining my championship win... congrats oscar!

oscarpiastri: thank you max :) also thank you to gp for giving y/n an ice pack

yourusername: gp got his name on a piece of cake

maxverstappen1: what about my cake?

yourusername: i guess i can spare another slice for you

oscarpiastri: we can give you a whole cake tomorrow if you let me win tomorrow?

maxverstappen1: nice try dude

yourusername: you haven't tried it yet

oscarpiastri: it's laced with crack (literally, DQ coming fast)

maxverstappen1: ????

yourusername: we jest

oscarpiastri: or do we?

user22: is gp another person they've collected?

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 1,094,873 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: no one else i'd rather celebrate with

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user23: they don't know it yet but they're actually my parents

user24: yeah, yeah oscar won a race woo BUT MAMA DROP THE RECIPE FOR THE THIRD SLIDE LOOKS LIKE IT BANGS

yourusername: i'm so unbelievably proud of you oscar, crying in the club right now

oscarpiastri: i didn't know the shower was also called the club (i can hear you crying and though i'm grateful you are this happy for me, it's getting slightly concerning)

yourusername: i just can't contain my excitement for you and it's turned into tears HAPPY TEARS

oscarpiastri: my mum can hear it from her room as well

yourusername: can't believe i'm being shamed like this

landonorris: will you cry this much for my first win

yourusername: nope, actively praying against it

landonorris: WHAT ??? OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEEN TOO MEAN THIS TIME

yourusername: i only want oscar to win every race from now until he retires soz buddy

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds like a good deal to me lando

landonorris: @yourusername i hope you drown in your tears

user25: well that escalated

danielricciardo: proud of you baby aussie !!! how can we get some aussie bbq in the paddock as celebration @yourusername 🤭

yourusername: someone get me a grill asap

danielricciardo: okay max it's time to stop being selfish, let oscar win another race so we can get more bbq i'm homesick

maxverstappen1: that's cute and all but FUCK THEM KIDS

yourusername: well no bbq for you then

maxverstappen1: you and oscar love me really

oscarpiastri: ???

user26: the way y/n tussles with these men kills me

user27: at this point get her a microphone and get her on that grid walk

mclarenf1

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,024,550 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & yourusername

mclarenf1: y/n delivered the pasta party she promised (admin is now in a food coma no more posts for the rest of the day)

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user28: the way we all thought this was a joke... i am now unwell

user29: dead ass the cutest thing i've ever seen

yourusername: thank you for having me besties, thank you for giving oscar a fast car and i hope you all actually make your flights in your pasta-induced naps

mclarenf1: that carbonara has me snoozing up a storm

oscarpiastri: (we nearly missed our flight)

landonorris: worth it, that pasta banged

yourusername: why thank you everyone i am blushing

yourusername: but real talk when does all this pasta translate into team orders in oscar's favour

mclarenf1: i don't think that's in my job description

landonorris: ...

oscarpiastri: well....

yourusername: you're making me look like a bad person 😭 i just want oscar to have the best possible time ever

oscarpiastri: i love you <3

landonorris: ugh... i guess that's cute

user30: i have never been more jealous ever in my life and it's over PASTA

georgerussell63: i am mobilising the GDPA against this. it's either pasta for ALL of us or NONE of us

yourusername: bring back seb you big wet wipe

georgerussell63: EXCUSE YOU!

charles_leclerc: i am an honourary italian and i am quite frankly offended i was not at least offered the left overs

oscarpiastri: but this was my special pasta party for my sprint win :(

georgerussell63: don't try and use that very cute and wholesome excuse with me mister, we have been robbed of pasta

yourusername: you queens are so dramatic i can't

user31: this sport is so unserious, they wouldn't protest over the conditions this weekend but pasta is where they draw the line 😭

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 621,945 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: if you're at COTA come on down to my bbq station it's mr america (@logansargeant) approved

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user33: miss ma'am is really raising the bar for all wags at this point

user34: who else is doing up masterchef at the track

logansargeant: i can confirm it is very good

yourusername: i knew there was a reason we love you logie bear

logansargeant: the ribs were so good you should honestly get an american passport

user35: guys i went and omg IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD + y/n was so fucking nice and said all proceeds are going to helping disadvantaged children get into karting

user36: my heart is so full i love them

maxverstappen1: slowing me down by making me have bbq i see how it is

yourusername: no one forced you to eat it buddy

maxverstappen1: well it's steak and mac and cheese ur dumb if you think i'm NOT fucking it up

yourusername: you got me there

danielricciardo: that was scrummy

charles_leclerc: petition for this to be here every week

georgerussell63: this just makes me more angry about missing out on pasta

user37: oscar is so much stronger than me cause if i had y/n i'd be asking for an absolute feast all of the time and would not stick to my meal plan

oscarpiastri: my favourite person doing her favourite thing <3

yourusername: you're my favourite thing

landonorris: keep that to yourself

yourusername: i can't love my bf now?

landonorris: that man is a child keep it PG

oscarpiastri: you made it not PG

yourusername: stop forcing your agenda on us lando

landonorris: i can't win with you people

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 803,884 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: first season done. proud. ready to eat like a king

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user38: i don't think i've ever barked in response to a picture of food

landonorris: where's mineeeeee :((((((((

oscarpiastri: season is over mate. y/n is back to being mine and mine only, we're hibernating in aus

landonorris: selfish

yourusername: let us eat our sushi in peace this off season

user39: oscar ready to keep y/n to himself what a king

oscarpiastri: tired of sharing my gf :( i know she's the bestest ever but still i was getting separation anxiety when she was stolen to make food for george

georgerussell63: no regrets

yourusername: you were always a king, but i'm ready to treat you like royalty

oscarpiastri: right back at you, queen

yourusername: all the food WE want all off season

maxverstappen1: okay guys we can hear you

charles_leclerc: this is no way to talk about your 27 year old children honestly

landonorris: i'm calling childline actually

yourusername: feel free girl, kiss my ass cause you won't see it for months

landonorris: GASP!

oscarpiastri: that's been brewing, stop asking y/n to make you chicken dippers bro

landonorris: :(

yourusername: regardless of all the tomfoolery and the stray cats (drivers) we've picked up, i'm so proud of you oscar - here's to an even better year next year

oscarpiastri: thank you, my love. couldn't do it without you. i love you.

yourusername: i love you too osc

fin.

note: heyyy?? yeah i've kinda gone missing in action. i am working on the last two WIPs but i am so busy and my writers block is so bad i had to revisit an old fave lol. hope yall enjoy !

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri

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ssahotchnerr · 10 months

Note

okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭

Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭

(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)

keeping score

🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k

early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.

as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.

but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.

"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.

you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."

he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.

however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"

your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."

"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."

his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.

you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.

but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.

"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."

it hadn't rained last night.

the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.

as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.

"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"

you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.

"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.

"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.

your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.

just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.

while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.

and a minute or two later, aaron joined.

as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.

"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."

"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."

with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.

"how are you feeling?"

"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"

oh.

"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."

aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.

so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.

"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.

aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."

aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.

and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.

"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."

"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.

"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."

you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.

once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.

"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.

aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."

"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."

a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"

"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."

he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"

"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."

aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."

"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."

"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x you

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lordprettyflackotara · 18 days

Text

obsessed || matt sturniolo

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. 🚨STALKER MATT ALERT. STALKER MATT ALERT🚨 tw: stalker insanely obsessed w you matt, overstimulation, matt’s obsessed with the idea of you belonging to him, kinky sex but what did you expect be honest. ENJOY!

Fuck, Matt was perfect.

You sat across from Matt at a high end restaurant, swirling your wine around in its glass. The date was going insanely well, the two of you hitting it off. You shared a lot of the same interest and seemed to get each other’s sense of humor. You found Matt charming and funny, his attractiveness only adding on top of that. You had met him by chance, awkwardly spilling coffee on him in a crowded local coffee shop. You immediately bonded over disliking mainstream coffee shops. Admittedly you took extra time trying to dab Matt’s white shirt. It was easy allowing yourself to ever so slowly fall in love.

Matt knew the date was going well, considering that’s how he planned it to go. You weren’t a very discreet person, your name plastered all over social media to show the world your accomplishments. Trip to Florida? Instagram post. Getting your associates degree? Facebook post. You were determined to show the world that you were something, somebody. He knew that’s how you’d want him to make you feel, like somebody special. It wasn’t hard for him to do so, with how adorable you were. Matt studied hard for his date with you, scoping out every scrap of an interest he could pinpoint.

It wasn’t hard to look at the little details of your instagram post. Nor was it hard to find your address.

Again, being discreet was not in your skill set. Posting the keys to your first apartment was almost too revealing. It didn’t take a genius to look up the model of the key, find the knob, and pinpoint which apartments had said doorknobs locally. He narrowed it down by area, taking into account where you worked as well as where you posted. Your college was fully online, most of your time dedicated to working. Matt would know, considering he followed you to work.

Matt knew you hated big corporations, the brunette making it a habit to go get coffee just at the same time as you. He knew when the shop was its busiest. He knew what your order was. Your spilling coffee on him was a breeze, him knowing you only drank iced coffee during the summer to cool you off in the mornings. He made sure to make his move when the shop was crowded, the two of you ‘accidentally’ walking into each other. You were so cute when you blushed, trying to clean his shirt with a handful of shitty napkins.

After studying your social media it was easy to see what kind of man you wanted. Kind, but not clueless. Protective, but not controlling. More importantly, he found your twitter. It didn’t have your real name on it. Trust him, it took a lot of digging to find it. It was full of pure filth, retweets of porn or smut. He always paid close attention to your captions specifically. Retweeting was one thing, your typed words were another. You wanted to be manhandled more than anything, according to your twitter.

You wanted someone to slut you out. To spit in your mouth and humiliate you. Matt could do that, he’d be happy to do that. More so than you could imagine, really. But he tried to push that knowledge aside as he sat in front of you at a candlelight dinner. The waiter picked up the check, Matt’s golden credit card peaking out of the top. “Dinner was fantastic, thank you again Matt,” You say, placing your hand on top of his across the table. Were you purposely pushing your breast upwards or was Matt hallucinating?

“Don’t thank me, it was really my pleasure,” Matt replied, giving you a sly grin as the waiter returned with his card. The two of you exited the restaurant hand and hand, your fingers lacing with his. “How far are you from here?” Matt asked. He knew how far. Maybe five minutes, seven tops if he walked slow to accommodate your being in heels. But he wanted you to make the call. “I’ll call a taxi, i’m twenty away. We should grab coffee tomorrow morning,” You lied, giving him a big grin. Matt picked up the hint. You liked him enough to want to see him again. But you most certainly did not trust him enough to walk you home.

Fair play.

“Sounds great. See you at seven?” Matt asked. You nodded, both of you exchanging fairwells. Matt turned the corner, allowing you to play pretend that you were calling a cab. Once you thought the cost was clear, you began walking your actual way home. You were smart to not trust Matt immediately, Boston certainly having a way of roughing everyone up a bit. But did you really think it was a better idea to walk home alone at night wearing that dress? With those heels? Matt was doing you an act of service more than anything else, making sure you got home safely.

The shadows of the night became his friend and most useful tool as he slowly followed you. You were blissfully unaware of his presence. Yeah, definitely a good idea he followed you home. You slid inside of your apartment, Matt climbing into the tree he always did to watch you. The leafs provided the perfect amount of coverage. From strangers walking by and from you. Boston clearly did not rough you up as much as Matt would’ve thought, your curtains wide open. He watched you slide off your heels, plopping down on your couch.

He needed to gain your trust. He yearned to be the one in front of you, taking off your heels. Matt watched you pick up your phone, the action making him check his. Zero notifications. Who were you calling? Matt began to grow impatient as he watched you talk on the phone, a male voice audibly coming into earshot. He glanced down, watching as Chris slyly walked down the sidewalk. “Nah nah i’m just saying mcdonald’s ain’t all that bad ma. You just have to stop eating that organic shit,” Chris said into his phone, approaching the front door to your apartment.

Matt’s eyes narrowed as he watched you rush to answer the door, both of you hanging up your phones.

Y/n, what the fuck is this?

You yanked Chris by his shirt, dragging him inside of your apartment. Matt watched as Chris got on top of you, kissing the side of your neck. Matt sat in disbelief, unsure of what to do. His brother? His goddamn brother? He sat in the tree painfully as Chris unzipped your dress, revealing your lacey black bra. Matt rolled his eyes. Oh come on, you definitely wore that for him. What made you change your mind? Surely Chris got into your head.

That’s what it had to be. You wouldn’t fuck Matt’s brother like that, right? He continued to watch until Chris briefly departed from you, yanking the curtains shut.

Matt sat in the tree for what felt like a million years, his brain racking itself on what to do. It wasn’t until the bathroom light flickered on in the apartment next door. Your apartment had two floors, the top only occupying a small bedroom and bathroom. Matt smirked as the dangerous idea crept into his head. As steadily as possible he climbed the thickest tree branch, reaching your bathroom window. It was absurdly tiny, Matt suddenly thankful he skipped out on dessert at the restaurant.

His fingers gripped the windows rim, sliding it upwards slowly. You were always so naive, believing no one would come inside like this. Thats why you had to be Matts. You needed him to protect you. And he needed you so the air could circulate in his lungs.

If Matt knew his brother, which he very much so did, he would not make you finish. In this very moment, Matt had never been more thankful for his brothers pitiful sex skills. Matt loved Chris dearly, enough to where he was only contemplating getting rid of him. After all, he was a mutt straying into his territory. And that territory happened to be the cunt he was fucking right now. Matt stayed behind the shower curtains, waiting silently. He dug around in his suit pocket, taking out a small pocket knife.

Matt flicked it open, the blade dimly illuminated in the moonlight. He waited quietly for his brother, knowing Chris obtained a pitiful bladder. Your moans were delightful to Matt’s ears, you were just moaning the wrong name. Some of your moans sounded fake as well, your vocal cords straining too much. Matt rolled his eyes. Did his dumbass brother even know where the clit was? Your moans came to an abrupt halt, Chris verbally grunting. Matt’s eyebrows furrowed. Yeah, you didn’t cum.

Matt listened intently to Chris’s footsteps, the bathroom door opening. His brother lazily flicked on the light, beginning to pull his pants down. Matt was on him in a flash, shoving the shower curtain out of the way. One of his hands covered Chris’s mouth, the other occupied by holding the knife to his throat. “Shh shh shh. Don’t make a sound or i’ll slit your throat,” Matt whispered. Chris’s eyes widened with fear, his face becoming pale.

“You’re going to go down there and tell her you don’t want to see her again. That she was nothing but a quick fuck,” Matt growled. Chris’s eyebrows furrowed, a muffled ‘why’ audible to Matt’s ears. He pressed the knife closer to his adam’s apple, his heart pounding with adrenaline. “You’re not really in a position to ask questions Christopher,” Matt murmured. Chris tried to back away, his body pressed against the pale yellow wall. Matt licked his dry lips, remembering Chris was his brother.

“She’s mine you dickwad. You come near her again I won’t be so forgiving,” Matt whispered. His eyes flickered back and forth, deranged as he studied Chris’s expression. His brother was finally understanding. It was finally computing. “I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth now. If you say anything about this happening i’ll slit your throat in your goddamn sleep,” Matt snarled. He went to raise his hand before hesitating. “I’ll kill your pretty blonde girlfriend too. Do you understand?” Matt asked sternly.

Chris nodded, swallowing as Matt removed his hand from his mouth. “I understand,” Chris uttered, terror painted across his face. Matt cocked his head towards the door, signaling for Chris to get on with it. As soon as his back was turned, Matt couldn’t help but say one last thing. “Oh and Chris?” He said. Chris slowly looked behind him, his fingertips just having glazed the bathroom doorknob.

“Make it convincing.”

Chris was lucky he knew how to follow instructions for once. Matt listened closely as he stomped downstairs. He put his ear to the door, listening as Chris screaming insults and profanities at you. The words whore and slut were thrown around loosely, the sound of your voice cracking breaking Matt’s heart. But this is how it had to be. He couldn’t possibly share you. What if Chris had done this out of his own accord? What if he was stupid enough to get bored of you one day? This was for your own good.

“Don’t fucking call me either!” Chris yelled, slamming the front door behind him. Matt ran over to the bathroom window, watching as his brother scrambled to run down the street. A cocky smirk crossed Matt’s lips, that expression soon fading when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Fuck. It was you.

“Hi there,” Matt whispered, greeting you when he answered the phone.

“Hey. Why are you whispering?”

“Nicks asleep. He finally just drifted off. We’ve been talking since he got home.”

Lies lies lies. Please believe them.

“Oh im sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just uh-”

You had stopped yourself, Matt temporarily wondering if he was breathing too hard into the phone.

“What’s up love?”

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to come over.”

Oh tonight just couldn’t get any sweeter.

It was not the easy to climb out of the window, excitement rushing through Matt’s veins. He had told you twenty minutes, meaning he had time to kill. After clumsily climbing down the tree he took a moment to compose himself. He was still dressed up from dinner. Shit. He shoved off his suit jacket, shoving inside a patch of bushes in your yard. He ran his fingers through his hair, steadying his breathing.

The end goal was in sight, it was near. All Matt had to do was fuck you into oblivion. He had to show you he was better than his imbecile brother or any other man who looked your way. That he could make you squirm and beg for more. He loosened his tie, shoving his hands in his pockets before strolling up to the front door. He knocked on the front door, anxiously awaiting to see your beautiful face.

You opened the door, surprised to see Matt. “I was just about to call you. I realized I forgot to give you my apartment number. How’d you find me?” You asked. Your apartment was generic, lined up with at least fifty that looked just like it. Matt gave you a charming smile. “The rose bushes out front. Not only are they your favorite flower, but they’re only suitable for someone as gorgeous as you,” He purred, watching your cheeks flush pink. He couldn’t tell if you were flustered from lust or his brother leaving you unsatisfied.

“You’re cute. Come in come in,” You ushered, moving aside for him to come in. You walked over to the kitchen, your dress wrinkled and obviously just thrown on. The zipper wasn’t all the way up, your hair wild and untamed from your earlier affair. “Wine?” You asked, gesturing to your wine cabinet. Matt knew about this as well, your fixation on wine adorable. “Absolutely. I’ll take whatever you think is best, I have no preference,” He said, giving you a small smile. It wasn’t long before the two of you were sitting on your couch with wine glasses in hand.

The same couch where Chris was buried into your cunt an hour ago tops. But as you dazzled Matt with conversation he couldn’t help but try to ignore it, knowing he would hypnotize you with his cock. “I have to be transparent with you. I’m surprised you invited me over,” Matt told you, setting his unfinished glass of wine on your coffee table. Your eyebrows furrowed, your lips sipping your wine of choice. “Why’s that?” You asked curiously.

“Well it’s late and we had plans early tomorrow. I just can’t help but wonder what changed your mind?”

You bit your bottom lip, before taking one final sip of your wine. You placed your glass on the table, climbing into Matt’s lap. You straddled him, his hands finding your waist with ease. “You did, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” You lied, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. Matt made a mental note to teach you the importance of not telling lies. He couldn’t help himself, reaching up and placing his lips against yours.

Despite seeing your bdsm sub page on twitter, Matt was not quite sure that’s what you wanted from him. Of course he would be anything you wanted him to be. Sub? Dom? Switch? Vanilla? Whatever you wanted. He knew down the line you’d want to explore those kinks, but would you really want to now? You playfully nibbled at his bottom lip, pulling it towards you before releasing. “I wanna be yours,” You whispered. You lowered your hips onto his, grinding against his hard boner.

“Make me yours Matt.”

Huh, you really did want that right off of the bat.

You being so straightforward only turned him on more, his hands flipping you around and placing your back against the couch. Matt began kissing down your neck, sucking harshly at your skin. He knew you wanted this, your filthy online confessions all he needed to know. “M-Matt,” You whimpered, trying to buck your hips upwards. You sounded so beauty moaning his name. His hands reached behind you, unzipping your dress and throwing it aside. He chose not to question the lack of bra or panties, something you clearly hadn’t thought about earlier.

Instead Matt chose to be grateful he had easy access, his hips trailing down to your breast. “Matt please fuck me, fuck,” You groaned, tilting your head back as he took one of your nipples into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, lightly grazing it with his teeth. “Patience baby. Let me take care of you,” Matt purred. He moved on to your other nipple, the cool air only making both of them more perky.

You were very vocal, your whines and whimpers ones Matt could appreciate. He made a mental note to never gag you, your noises too heavenly. “Your body is so beautiful. So ethereal,” Matt praised. He watched closely at your reaction, trying to see just how much praised turned you on. He brought two fingers to your soaked entrance, running them up and down your slit. “This wet for me already? You’re such a slut,” Matt spat. The moan that left your hips was more feral, more desperate.

Yeah, you wanted him to do both.

Matt delivered a sharp slap to your cunt, causing you to whine and your hips to jolt. “So fucking filthy,” Matt muttered, shoving two fingers inside of you. He curled his slender digits, pumping them against your g spot. Matt guessed easily Chris hadn’t given you any form of foreplay, your moans much more sinful as he finger fucked you. “Such a good girl for me. Look at you. Taking my fingers like a good whore,” Matt praised, smirking to himself as your walls clenched around him.

He brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing fast and aggressive circles around it. Your moans became louder, Matt’s pace refusing to slow down anytime soon. “Matt feels soooo good fuck,” You slurred, your eyes fluttered shut as you soaked in the pleasure. Matt could feel your orgasm coming, his ego fixing to grow ten times bigger. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me?” Matt taunted. You nodded, grabbing onto the couch. “Go on then, cum on my fingers like the good little girl you are,” Matt ordered.

He was delighted at the feeling of your walls spasming around him, begging for his cock. Matt gave you a moment to come down before repositioning himself. He bent down in between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs. You were still dazed, blinking as you sat up to look down at Matt. “I’m too sensitive I c-can’t. Just fuck me, please,” You pleaded. Matt pressed another tauntingly slow kiss to your inner thigh, before hovering over your folds. His breath was hot against your cunt, your core begging for more.

“Just wanna taste you baby. Let me make you feel good. Relax for me,” Matt cooed. He knew that you were into overstimulation. Shit, that was quite literally retweeted so many times onto your twitter feed it was glued into his brain. You were practically begging anyone to overstimulate you into oblivion. “Thats it. That’s my good fucking whore,” Matt chuckled, licking a stripe up your cunt. You moaned loudly, your hand flying down to his hair. You yanked at his locs, Matt diving into your cunt like a starved man.

The feeling of you squeezing his head between your thighs was euphoric, this moment one Matt had dreamed of. “Matt, it’s too much-” You groaned, gasping as his lips attached themselves to your clit. He sucked at the sensitive bud, your juices coating his chin. You tasted so sweet, your trembling thighs only making the situation sweeter. “Fuck, right there, Matt i’m gonna cum,” You warned, pushing his head deeper into your cunt. Matt repeated the same motion with his lips and tongue, abusing your poor little clit to his liking.

Your thighs shook as you came, squirting directly into Matt’s mouth. Matt was happy to drink all of it, returning to your cunt to lick you as clean as possible. You were so fucking addicting and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. Matt crawled forward, pressing a sloppy kiss to your swollen lips. You were out of breath, your heart racing as you waited eagerly for him to fuck you. Matt didn’t waste any further time, shoving himself inside of you.

Your walls fluttered around his length, struggling to take him. “You feel so good,” You moaned, throwing your head back. Matt smirked as he watched his cock from your stomach, his girth stretching you out. “So do you baby. You’re so perfect. Made to take my cock,” Matt said, grabbing both of your legs. He threw them over his shoulders, your ankles dangling by his head as he began ramming into you. Your walls were milking him, begging him to fuck you senseless.

“I’m going to do this every fucking day. You’re mine. This is my cunt, do you understand?” Matt asked, leaning over you. His thrust were merciless, his angle only turning you more into a squirming mess as he went deeper. You nodded profusely, the noises escaping your lips sinful and raw. “Mine to fuck, mine to play with,” Matt huffed, abusing your cunt as he pleased. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Mine to breed,” He smirked, hiding his smile as your walls fluttered around his cock again.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? To be bred by me like this over and over and over,” Matt taunted, his hips continuing to pound into yours. You were babbling mess, mixes of pleas with strings of curses escaping your darling lips. “You’re mine, you belong to me,” Matt said. He frowned as he noticed your eyes were screwed shut, your face scrunched up in pleasure. His hips continued fucking you as he grabbed your face, forcing your lips to pucker out like a fish.

“You hear me slut? You belong to me. Do you understand?” Matt asked, his eyes flickering back and forth to study yours. Your pupils were blown with lust, your walls milking his cock for everything he had. “Yes daddy, i’m yours,” You replied obediently, his hand instantly retreating from your face. “You’ve done it now,” He murmured, grabbing your hips. Matt began to pound into you harder, drilling into you deeper. You were hanging on by a thread, your orgasm approaching quickly.

“Fucking cum on my cock, go on. Cum on my fucking cock so I can breed you. Get you pregnant,” Matt ordered, the idea of cumming inside of you only driving him more feral. You screamed his name as you came around his cock, your legs violently trembling as Matt thrust into you one last time. Your walls demanded every last drop of cum Matt could provide. Your cunt was full of his seed, your fate sealed in the worst way possible. Matt slowly pulled out of you, both of you panting softly.

He meant what he said: you belonged to him. And soon enough you’d realize just how much that truly meant.

#matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo

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mvybanks · 1 year

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Could you do a JJ one where you're John B's little sister and you guys get in a fight and JJ stands up for you? BTW I love your stuff I've read like every fic!

the one where jj protects you from your brother (jj x routledge!reader)

a/n: omg thank you????? i’m smiling like an idiot here, i’m so glad you love my fics!!🫶🏻 btw i loved this request, jj x routledge!reader is my favorite concept. hope you like it!! (i kinda got carried away, sorry)

warnings: yelling, mentions of abuse, cat calling, groping

pt 2 -> the one where jj protects you from your brother pt. 2

my masterlist

when jj arrives at the chateau he doesn’t expect to hear his best friend john b yelling so loud he can hear him from outside. john b never gets mad, he thinks, and more importantly, who could he be yelling at?

but when he sees you being at the receiving end of your brother’s anger, he steps in quickly and throws an arm in front of you instinctively.

“hey, HEY! what the hell is going on here?”

unfortunately, he knows how it feels like to be in your place and although he’s sure that your brother would never lay a hand on you, his instinct tells him to protect you with everything he’s got.

you didn’t mean to, of course you didn’t, no sane person would let themselves be fired from a job that pays well when you’re already in a difficult economic situation, but when your boss made a vile comment about you while groping your behind, you saw red. you took the lukewarm coffee that was sitting in the jug of the coffee machine next to you and threw it in his face.

he fired you immediately which leads you to your current position. you didn’t tell john b why your boss fired you but just that he had and that’s why he’s mad.

“you’re being childish and irresponsible!”

he yelled at you when you told him, yet he didn’t know the truth. he’s been yelling at you for at least the past twenty minutes, telling you to go back and beg him for your job back. but you won’t, not for a million dollars.

when jj stepped in front of you, you felt relieved to hear someone else’s voice other than your brother’s. however, as soon as he sees the tears in your eyes, you swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears.

“jj, this is none of your business, get out!”

you almost want to plead for him to stay but you know you don’t have to from the look in his eyes.

“it’s my damn business if you’re making her cry, john b. can you stop yelling at her for a second? let her speak!”

“good luck with that! she won’t talk to me! she gets fired from a job that was saving us and letting her keep only one job instead of three and she won’t tell me what the fuck she did to get fired!”

jj turns to you and his anger dissipates as soon as his eyes land on you. he wraps his arm around your shoulders and kisses your head, hoping to calm you down.

“you wanna tell me what happened, sweetheart?”

you let your head fall on his chest and finally let yourself cry. he holds you close, wrapping his other arm around your waist and you can’t see the way he looks at your brother while you hide your face but it’s one of the most intense death stares he’s ever given to anyone. he doesn’t know that your tears were not caused by your brother but by the old and disgusting man that is, luckily, no longer your boss.

you understand where john b is coming from, hell, you would be mad at him too if the roles were reversed, but you can’t tell him what happened because he’s your big brother and god knows what he would do if he found out. you just don’t want him to get in trouble.

jj strokes your back, bringing you some sort of comfort, then gently takes your face in his hands and looks you in the eyes as he gets rid of your never-ending tears with his thumbs.

concern is written all over his features and when his eyes widen slightly you know he’s got you all figured out. he’s always been able to understand you with just one look and you love him and hate him for it.

“you’re not crying because of john b, are you?”

you only shake your head and look back to your brother who’s starting to get worried and feel guilty at getting so mad at you.

“tell me what happened, sweetheart.”

and you know you can’t resist him especially when he talks to you with so much love laced in his soft voice.

“my boss, h—he said some things…about me and then he grabbed my ass.”

if you thought that the look jj had given to john b before was bad, this one means only one thing: murder. you can see your brother clenching his jaw and you’re scared of what they might do.

“what did he say?” you notice how much jj is trying to hold himself back while he asks you the question.

“he said that it was a shame i don’t ‘give it up’ as easy as other girls do around my age because he was ‘dying’ to see me naked”

“john b, grab the keys”

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank x routledge!reader #jj maybank fanfiction #john b routledge #john b routledge x sister!reader

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cheapshrimpysheep · 6 months

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You Will Stop the Wedding! - Vil Schoenheit

SUMMARY: YOU were the one being kidnapped by Princess Eliza to marry her. How would he react and how would he save you? With the aggravation of he already having a crush on you.

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit x Reader

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Declaration

WORD COUNT: 1.155 words

Riddle Rosehearts / Leona Kingscholar / Azul Ashengrotto / Jamil Viper / Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud / Malleus Draconia

Rescuing You - Deuce Spade; Jack Howl; Floyd Leech; Kalim Al-Asim

COMMENTS: What have I done? Why did I commit to writing this? And why did I write so much? Why was I so inspired? There were seven of them! Why do I do this to myself? So yeah, this took me a long time. But I hope it was worth it, for me and for you.

CONTEXT: Someone was kidnapped to marry some ghost princess and might end up turning into a ghost too. And he just found out that someone was you.

Vil wondered who in the entire school would be chosen as the princess's partner instead of someone like him. With someone like him at school, who the heck did they kidnap if they were looking for the perfect person for the princess?

And then he hears your name, and his eyes widen. On the one hand, he now understands. After all, if he himself fell in love with you, who wouldn't? But on the other hand, his pride was still a little hurt. But more importantly, he needed to save you!

When rescue groups are formed, he asks to be in the last one. He knows he will be the best choice for this operation because he is an actor, but to create the perfect “romantic interest”, after all, your life was at risk, he first needed to understand what the princess's “character” was like.

When it's the last group's turn, whenever someone needs to stay behind to tie up the ghosts, Vil tells one of the others to do it. He always displays such confidence and leadership that the others simply followed his orders and stayed behind. One of the boys in the group was Rook, so it was clear that he would follow Vil's orders. Vil ends up being the only one to arrive at the ceremony hall.

Following the plan and after studying the princess's "character", Vil gets into character even before opening the door. He opens the door with a bang and orders them to stop the wedding. And in the first few sentences you already got an uncanny shiver.

“STOP THE WEDDING! Princess! I cannot bear this! My heart cannot bear to see you marrying someone else. Please, my wonderful princess, I beg you to at least give me a chance to prove myself to be a good partner to you!” And he was even being so dramatic talking.

But you couldn't deny that he was an excellent actor. Anyone who doesn't know him, the princess for example, would never realize he was acting. But you knew him, and so you had to try hard not to laugh at how strange that was. He was acting so well it looked like he was possessed. And worse, he was playing... ROOK?

You were controlling yourself not to laugh, but some of the students petrified by the princess's slap weren't. And they burst into laughter, especially Leona and Floyd. “Pay these poor rejects no attention, my sweet princess.” Vil continued “They are merely jealous of whoever is worthy of standing next to you at the altar.” He was even imitating some of Rook's gestures, which only made the others laugh even more.

Vil did everything the princess asked of him. He sang with her, answered her questions with the answers he thought she wanted to hear and which from her reaction seemed right. But it seemed like she was never satisfied. Why did it never end? What was going wrong? And it was then that she said that Vil would definitely be a wonderful prince, but she had already chosen you.

“WHAT?! You can not be serious.” Now, the Vil you knew was back, and he was pissed. “I do all this, I answer all these nonsense questions, I try to act in a way that pleases you and it's all for nothing?!” Even the princess was scared by his change in behaviour. And the guards placed themselves in defensive positions. The princess asks what happened to him, what was going on?

“I tell you what is going on. I'm here doing my best to convince a delusional princess to accept me as her husband so I can save the real person I care about and yet I'm rejected after having so much patience with a spoiled girl.” The princess is horrified to know that it was all just an act, she had really believed it, she even starts to cry. And of course, the guards threaten Vil. “Cry all you want, it doesn't bother me, I came here to save (Y/N) and that's what I'm going to do. One way or another.”

And then, a fight between the ghosts and Vil begins. Which he could have almost won if it weren't for that guard who turned into a giant ghost. He suggested that the princess give Vil the slap to petrify him, but she did nothing for a moment. Afterwards, she said that what Vil did was the most evil thing anyone had ever done to her. Playing with someone's feelings like that.

“I know it's one of the ugliest things I've ever done. But I wasn't just playing. I was trying to save the person you kidnapped.” She asks if he can act so well, how would you know if what he says he feels for you is real? He looks at you, confidently, with a loving look and his soft smile. “They know.” He may be an excellent actor, but you know he’s not a liar.

And, out of nowhere, the princess started to feel sorry for herself and jealous of you. She also wanted someone to do all that for her. Pretending to be someone else just to save you, even if it meant being away from you forever. (In the Vils head he was like: Actually I was going to put a ring on your finger to send you alone to the afterlife, but of course, think whatever you want.) And this was the opportunity that the guard who was in love with her found to declare himself. He said he wasn't that good of an actor, but that if he had to, he would do his best. And that whole ending of the princess realizing that she loved him too happens, they get married and happily ever after.

After everything and while the first-years were getting ready to tidy up and clean the cafeteria, you asked Vil to wait a bit. You leave the room so you can talk alone. He looks at you from top to bottom and started fixing your clothes and hair.

“One thing I must admit, those ghosts had some fashion sense.” When he finishes he takes a step back and looks at you. He smiles. “You sure are beautiful.” You throw yourself at him to hug him. “*Sigh* I just fixed your clothes.” but he still hugged you back. “I should teach you some self-defence techniques. It seems like you are becoming too with my help.” Just in case, you ask him if he is really flirting with you at that moment. “Firstly, you don't seem too bothered by it so I assume I'm allowed to do it. And secondly, I'm not Rook. Do you really think I would praise anyone else like this, sweet potato?”

Vil highly values his face. For this reason, you are probably the only person he would let kiss him, both on the cheeks and lips.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Ghost Marriage #The Phantom Bride: Love at First Fright #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Vil x Reader

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icarryitin · 20 days

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Effortless

spencer reid/gn!reader

coming into this from a fandom where my last fic got literally 11 notes (half of which were my own self-rbs) the reception for workplace hot was heartwarming, pls accept more pre-relationship work crush goodness as thanks🧡🧡

masterlist

word count: 1.6k// warnings: absolutely hopeless pining, this man is so so clever but so so oblivious

“Chicken.”

“Did you know, the origin of ‘chicken’ in reference to someone who’s afraid can be traced back to the use of ‘hen-heart’ as a synonym for ‘fainthearted’? Its first documented use was in the York Mystery Plays - which are considered to have been written prior to 1450.”

“Chicken.” Morgan repeats.

“Shut up.”

While his second response is decidedly less eloquent, Spencer’s pretty sure he can’t fact-dump his way out of this particular conversation.

It’s not exactly a secret - his giant, all consuming, world ending crush on you - at least, it’s not a secret from anyone except you. He’s past being embarrassed about it when one of the others brings it up, as long as it’s not around you. That’s happened exactly once, and Spencer’s automatic response was to chatter about the migration patterns of a specific type of bird he’d read an article about the day before. Ceaselessly. No matter how much everyone else had begged him to stop, until the previous subject was well and truly forgotten. So when you’d asked a leading question about another kind of bird? He was more than happy to oblige. You’ve always done that, listened to him. It’s nice.

It’s probably what got him in this mess in the first place.

Somewhere along the way, a routine developed itself. He remembers the first day you asked him to elaborate on something he’d started on earlier in the day, trivia about the fluctuations in the popularity of a specific make of car. It had ended up being useful in the context of the case anyway but, more importantly to Spencer, the tidbit had you cornering him in the kitchen to ask him about it. And now it’s just what happens. You potter around to make your lunch, he chatters about the most recent paper he’s read like your own personal podcast.

It’s a comfortable friendship, solidified by little things like that. Though they’re not all that little to him, if anything they’ve only deepened his feelings for you - he doesn’t let on, for your sake, he tries not to.

But his affection sneaks out in other ways.

He gravitates towards you without realising it, just to exist in your space. At the round table, on the jet, at crime scenes, in whichever office the local PD have cleared out for the team. He’s never hovering, but he’s not not hovering. Just working parallel to you. It’s why he likes the bullpen, for all its hustle and bustle, because he can look at you out of the corner of his eye whenever he wants to. He can spin his chair to face you, stretch his legs out across the aisle, and let a wave of sheer steadiness wash over him. Sometimes it’s you, reaching over to hand him something or abandoning your post completely to perch on the corner of his desk. Spencer thinks that’s what it might be, the peace you seem to exude that quiets his busy mind - the kindness you extend to victims and their families that flows through your very veins. It follows you like an aura, there’s very little he won’t do to be bathed in it whenever he can. It’s all led to a unique dynamic that means you’re paired up together more often than not.

You move around each other unconsciously now, leaning over maps and files and evidence. Swapping pens and ducking under one another’s arms as you both scribble away at the board. It’s almost choreographed, natural. Everything is with you, and that’s what gets him. There’s a part of Spencer Reid’s brain that is dedicated to considering his actions in relation to the people around him, running in the background like a computer programme, but he doesn’t have to run it around you. He doesn’t think, for once. He just does.

It’s effortless, second nature, to make space for you. The same as it is to leave a seat open for you, even if it’s the only one. To nudge you gently when you’re too far in your own head to realise you’re picking at your skin. You’ve started nudging him back in recent weeks when he does the same, chewing on the inside of his lips and paying absolutely no mind to the damage he’s doing. You notice, you care enough to stop him. Just like you’ll leave an empty space on the nearest desk for him to hop up on. He’s not sure if you realise you’re even doing it. Clearing perfect Spencer-sized spots at every precinct and office you’re set up in, because you know he prefers it to the chairs. Which makes his own actions feel a little less overt and, in turn, lets him breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this is just what good friends do for each other. He can call you that, at least, if his own fears won’t afford him the chance to call you anything else.

Though, he’s not sure he could stop himself from taking care of you in his own way if he tried. Mostly because he’s not trying in the first place.

He didn’t even realise what he was doing, the first time he turned to you to double check your protective vest was secure. Narrow fingers tugging on straps, barely even processing the inviting warmth of you underneath them, he’d been too focused on making sure you were as protected as you could be. And then he’d walked into the Unsub’s home ahead of you anyway.

Spencer never walks ahead of you, anywhere. He’s always ushering you in first, something drilled into him by some unknown force, his basest of instincts - you’re ahead of him into the office, into precincts, into crime scenes, even into the elevator. But in a hostile situation? He’s first through the door every time.

So much so that it’s routine now, wherever the case, whoever is around. He grasps the shoulders of the thick vest and wiggles it, he rips the velcro straps off at your waist only to secure them again. A little tighter, and he’s quietly grateful that you let him. The heat of you at his back is reassuring when scenes aren’t secure. To know that, based on his experience anyway, the Unsub will more than likely jump out ahead of him - and he’ll be the one between you and the bullet. Which is maybe a little dramatic, but it’s the truth.

“Ready, boys?”

Doctor Spencer Reid has never claimed to believe in any god, but he makes sure to thank something for the interruption. Anything to get himself and his giant crush out from under Derek Morgan’s microscope.

It’s Emily who speaks, Emily who tosses protective vests at him and Derek, but Spencer’s eyes are focused on you entering the office behind her. You’re concentrating on your own vest, securing straps that’ll only be repositioned in a minute or two. But you still do it yourself each time, as if you’re not expecting him to come over and double check your work. There’s no way you haven’t noticed by now. That he’ll do it every time, that he doesn’t do it for anybody else, that he spends twice as long checking on your vest than he does securing his own. FBI emblem emblazoned on his chest, Spencer crosses the room dutifully to conduct his little ritual.

Velcro isn’t quiet. It pierces through the background noise when he undoes the buckle at your side and tears it free, but his eyes don’t move from the task at hand. Yours are heavy on his face, the way they always are when he gets this close. He pretends not to notice.

“Thank you.” You whisper softly. So softly that between the chatter and gun checking behind him, only the two of you can hear.

It’s only now, now he’s certain your vest is snug as possible, that he allows his careful gaze flicker to meet yours. He struggles not to take a step back with the force of it.

“Of course.” He replies, reluctantly pulling his cold fingers out from the warmth beneath the shoulders of your vest. His smile, small, self-conscious, is returned tenfold and beaming. The same way it always is. He doesn’t know how you do it - see the things you see every day and still manage a grin wider than the Río de la Plata. Maybe he can’t explain everything.

He catches a movement over your shoulder, it’s Morgan. Arms folded at the elbow, fists tucked close to his chest, as he makes the exaggerated movements of a chicken. Head bobbing and all. The teasing support, because that’s all it is, is nice to have - but there’s not one member of the team who understands exactly why he’s so afraid to say anything to you. In an ideal world, he wouldn’t be. He’d be able to pull you aside and tell you exactly how many days it’s been since he’d met you, started crushing on you, fallen absolutely hopelessly in love. It kind of all started at once, if he’s being completely honest. And in that ideal world, you would smile that billion kilowatt smile and tell him you love him too, and even the paperwork from the bureau wouldn’t matter. This isn’t an ideal world, however. He knows that better than most.

Spencer’s been rejected before, more than even he would care to admit, by friends and lovers and parents and colleagues and strangers. But he’s not sure he could take it from you, not while you hold his heart so tenderly in your hands. Even unaware of the responsibility, you’re gentle with him.

He’ll keep you close, regardless, as much as he can without arousing your suspicion. He’ll keep making space for you and double checking your vest until every ugly confession claws its way out of him.

That’s enough, for now.

if you’ve made it this far, pls know i am kissing u gently on the forehead🧡🧡

i’m also thinking about opening requests for all things pre-relationship spencer bc mutual pining and obliviousness is my fav fav fav thing, in case anyone was interested👀

#i’m also choosing at this stage to make him only experience good things #bc i’ve just got to the maeve arc in my first full watch of cm and i know what happens and i’m sad already i love her #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #lou writes #the canyouniverse

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twilightcitysky · 10 months

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Everything Is Meant (long S2 analysis, part 2)

Part one here

Okay, so that's how I think the pre-creation scene and Gabriel's arc connect to Aziraphale's choice. I also think the ineffable bureaucracy speedrun exists to prove totally different things to Aziraphale and Crowley: Aziraphale loves that they can love each other but notes they have to run away to be together; Crowley sees this and immediately thinks "hey, we can do that too!", forgetting that running away is not a solution Aziraphale has ever been interested in. It's the mentality of an individualist vs a group-oriented mind, and neither of them is necessarily wrong, it's just that their priorities are different and they HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT, which they don't.

Continued analysis under the cut:

3. Let's take the Job minisode. Why include it? We already mentioned that it proves Aziraphale remembers Crowley as an angel, since he mentions it. And he believes Crowley is the same person he always was, and that he doesn't want to harm Job's crops or animals or children. Crowley tries to convince him he's a Big Bad Demon who is all in on this assignment, but fails utterly to kill even a single goat, soooo... Aziraphale comes to the conclusion that he knows what Crowley wants. Alert! Alert! This is a big problem! Crowley says, "What do you know about what I want?" Aziraphale: "I know you." Crowley: "You do not know me." But because Aziraphale got it right this time, he goes ahead assuming he'll always get it right, which is a crucial failure when it comes to the final reckoning. He doesn't ever ASK Crowley what he wants, he just assumes. When you assume you know what someone wants, you usually assume their priorities align with yours... he couldn't be more wrong about that. The Job minisode sets up this dynamic for them, and they never really manage to change it.

The other thing happens at the end of the minisode. Crowley acknowledges two crucial points: 1) he's lonely ("But you said it wasn't!" "I'm a demon. I lied"), 2) he doesn't think Aziraphale would like Hell. Aziraphale DOESN'T like Hell. Aziraphale hates Hell for what they've done to Crowley. He doesn't see Heaven as innocent or benign, but importantly, Heaven has never tried to hurt Crowley directly. They never threatened his safety. They never tortured him (as it's heavily implied that Hell did). Fast forward to the last ten mins of season 2: Aziraphale excited to tell Crowley that he can be an angel again BECAUSE: he never has to go back to Hell. They can never hurt him again, not the way they did before. And he doesn't have to be lonely anymore.

Last point before I leave Job: Crowley has the chance to cause Aziraphale to Fall, here, probably. ("I lied to Heaven to thwart the will of God!" "You did, but I'm not going to tell anybody. Are you? ...good, then nothing has to change.") He doesn't take it. He doesn't want Aziraphale to be a demon. He loves Aziraphale as he is. "Angel" as an affectionate. Aziraphale certainly doesn't use "demon" as a pet name for Crowley. I think they set up this scene to contrast the final one, and show how deeply hurt Crowley is that Aziraphale suggest he change.

4. Moving on to Victorian Scotland. This one confused me at first. I was delighted that they brought back the "the lower you start the more opportunity you have to rise" dialogue from the book, but apart from that I didn't really see the point of it. It seems like the statue of Gabriel and the fact that he and Beelz ended up at that pub in the present were more or less coincidental.

The point, I think, is actually not the girl, but the doctor. He's a person who is trying to do good by working in a system that's deeply flawed, and engaging in questionable moral practices for the greater good. (Cadaver dissection is still an essential part of medical school. You need dead bodies to understand living ones.) He shows Aziraphale a tumor he removed from a child who died, and Aziraphale clutches it to his chest. The camera zooms in and lingers to tell us that this is a guardian through and through. He wants to protect people. He wants to do good with every fiber of his being.

To Crowley, it's enough to just "be an us" with Aziraphale. He doesn't really want anything more than that. That's an issue! For one thing, it fosters unhealthy codependency, and for another, Aziraphale would never be happy without the opportunity to help and protect people. It's an essential part of who he is. Metatron knows that, and he plays Aziraphale like a fiddle. The doctor showed Aziraphale that you can make a difference even in systems that are flawed, and even if you have to do things you'd rather not do. Aziraphale doesn't want to go back to Heaven, but he truly thinks he can change things; thinks he can be a guardian with some real power. In his mind, that's the right thing to do.

Last thing that happens in Scotland: Crowley saves a soul from Hell, arguably, by preventing a suicide. He gets in Big Trouble. Whatever happened to him downstairs resulted in him coming back up, leaning on a cane, and asking Aziraphale to give him holy water. Go back and watch that scene knowing what we know now about the Victorian minisode. Ask yourself how Aziraphale must have felt. He likely blamed himself for what happened, because if he hadn't meddled then they never would have been there in the first place. He knew where Crowley was, and why he was there, and he had to sit with that knowledge for years. He desperately wants Crowley to be safe; is perfectly willing to push him away to keep him safe-- which is what he does do, the minute Crowley gets back.

Now think again about what Metatron offered him. A chance to keep Crowley safe forever. He'd never be harmed again. Aziraphale is going to take that offer, no matter what else is asked of him. He's shown over and over again that he'll sacrifice his own happiness to make sure nothing happens to Crowley. And he'll do it without talking to Crowley about it first, because he is a moron who doesn't know how to use his words. Leading Crowley to assume that Aziraphale doesn't love him. The idiot angel is doing it all out of love, but because he doesn't make himself clear Crowley doesn't know that.

Part 3: Maggie and Nina, and their roles as mirror couple/ Greek chorus!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #good omens s2 spoilers #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #everything is meant #good omens analysis #part 3 tomorrow

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skipper1331 · 2 months

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Communication is key // Alexia Putellas

Without thinking, you called Alexia, feeling frustrated and disappointed about her behavior.

"Hello amor"

"Were you at the beach with the girls yesterday?"

Since weeks you had been asking if she wanted to hangout and go to be beach, just for some time away from football.

"Yes, why?" she replied, confused.

"I don’t want to fight, but I’m asking since 2 weeks if you want to go to the beach with me and you tell me you‘re busy each time and now you went out with the other girls? To the beach? Even though, you know I’ve been asking…You didn‘t ask if I wanted to join you guys" you said, upset about the fact that Alexia acted that way and that you got so carried away as to even bring it up.

"Eh- um…" the midfielder was silent for a moment, thinking about how to phrase it as kindly as possible "the problem is that Mapi has a problem with you and that’s why we decided as a group that you can‘t join. It wouldn’t end well"

"We‘re a friend group of 5 people…? If she has a problem she should talk to me privately."

The friends group consisted of Mapi, Ingrid, Frido, Ale and yourself.

"Yeah.."

"So, I’m no longer part of the group when Mapi is there? That‘s so nice, Alexia, thanks!" your voice was laced with sarcasm and anger.

Of all people, you at least thought Alexia would defend or support you - you were her girlfriend.

"What do you want to hear from me? The girls asked and I wanted to do something as a group so I went along. And if they exclude you, there's nothing I can do about it. Just chill out, we'll catch up on it at some point."

The betrayal and hurt you felt in that moment, was unreal - how could she say something like that? She was the person who had asked you out a dozens of times with puppy dog eyes. She was the one who begged for your kisses and love. And she was the one who wanted to spend every second of the day with you, no matter what plans either of you had.

Why was she acting so cold and rude now?

"You know what? If you want to hangout with me, then feel free to text me, but I won‘t be running after you, just to get rejected every time, even though you apparently have the time but just don't want to when it’s with me, your girlfriend! So, text me if you want to do something that isn’t having sex, otherwise we'll see each other in training."

With that you ended the call.

Did your friend group really decided that? It didn‘t seem to make any sense. And was even the problem with Mapi? The two of you were friends, never any problem between the two of you. But more importantly: what was the matter with Alexia? Why was she acting weird and distant? Have you done something wrong?

Normally, both of you were all over each other, holding hands, kissing in the storage room or even just an arm around your waist - spending almost 24/7 together. What was happening?

You declined every call that came in after, the caller id always the same.

reina 👑

amor, por favor.

call me back

lo siento

Caught up in your anger, you started to deep clean your apartment, not being bothered to call her back or even reply. The cleaning relaxed you but it also got you thinking. Was Alexia acting like this because she wanted to break up with you? Did she realize that you weren’t worth her time, attention and love? You always had a feeling that Alexia would break up with you at some point, many pretty girls in the world that would die to even just meet Alexia, let alone be loved by her.

That night you went to bed feeling very queasy and stressed - was she really about to break with you? She had texted you multiple times as she also had tried to call you but you didn’t answer.

The next day, you went to training acting as usually but with one exception - you avoided Ale and the rest of your friend group.

You did partner drills with Patri, talked in water breaks with Lucy and ate lunch with Aitana, Keira and Caro.

It was usual that you socialized with other people than your friend group but the unusual part was that Alexia didn‘t follow you around like a lost puppy. Instead she sent longing looks towards you, sad smiles displaying in her face when you dodged her glances as she tried to act tough and unbothered by your ignorance.

"What have you done?" a thick English accent asked the midfielder who was walking towards the changing room.

"Maybe I handled things a bit wrong" she explained, not wanting to reveal too much - a little bit scared of the Lucy Bronze as she had gotten the shovel talk from her when she started dating you.

'If you hurt her, I will haunt and hurt you' Lucy had told the Barcelona captain.

That day, Alexia promised Lucy and herself to never hurt you - not that she intended to anyways.

"You better make up with her otherwise I will have to hurt you" the defender smiled, entering the locker and walking to her cubby.

Alexia was quick to take a shower and get ready, waiting for you in front of the facility. She knew you hadn‘t left yet as you had entered the changing room when she came out of the shower.

She indeed wanted to make up with you, the whole situation a misunderstanding.

When you walked out of the facility, she called after you, "Amor, ¡esperar!" grabbing your hand, stopping you on your short journey to the car, "can we talk?" her voice was gentle and caring.

"Do you want to break up with me?" you asked straight forward, stepping back, trying to protect yourself with the distance yet you knew it wouldn’t help from a potential heart break.

"No no, amor, no. Let me pick you up at 7, okay? I‘ll explain everything"

You thought about it, unsure what to do.

"Okay"

It was Alexia after all, the person who was always honest. If she wanted to explain something, she would.

"Thank you, amor" she pressed a kiss to your cheek, walking you to your car, "be safe" she said as watched you, pull out of the parking lot, feeling so much better now that she had talked to you, even if it was just a few sentences - now that you had smiled at her.

5 minutes early, she rang your door bell, shuffling with her feet and fidgeting with her hands - she was nervous.

"Come in" you greeted her, "just need to put on my shoes then we can go"

The midfielder nodded, shyly entering your home as if she hadn‘t been here before.

"You look very beautiful, like always" she smiled, cheeks slowly turning red. Alexia felt like as if it was your first date all over again. She still remembered how shy and nervous she was, wanting to do everything perfect, so you‘d like her and she could ask you on another date. Also she had said the exact same thing when she picked you up for your first date.

"Reminds me of something" you chuckled, as well thinking back to the night where she had taken you out.

"Sí, you‘re getting prettier every day that hasn‘t changed"

Alexia thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, you took her breath away every time she saw you - you were absolutely stunning.

"charmer" you giggled, cheeks a dark shade of red. In that moment, everything felt like it used to be. She wasn‘t acting distant or weird, she was acting like the girl you fell in love with.

Everything is going to be okay.

"Amor, may I?" she asked politely, offering her arm as you had put on your shoes. Wordlessly, you linked your arms, walking towards her car. She opened the door for you, hurriedly rushing over to her side before she started the engine and rested her hand on your thigh. She was glad when you didn‘t push her off - you had missed her touch all day.

The two of you stayed in silence, your favourite songs playing as she drove to her destination. With every metre you got closer, she became more nervous and anxious. She knew she had some explaining to do but also was about to ask you an important question - which was the reason she even had to explain things. She wouldn‘t let a misunderstanding fuck things up with you. She wanted to marry you in the future - your relationship was very serious to her.

(Also she did not wanted to get haunted by a certain scary English defender.)

"Why are we at the beach?" you asked, the ocean right in front of you.

"Do you trust me?" the Barcelona player questioned, avoiding your question - she would explain in a moment, you just had to wait and trust her.

"I‘m not quite sure?" Ale raised an eyebrow, "fine, I trust you"

The girl smiled widely, stepping behind you and covering your eyes with her hands, "are you about to murder me?" you joked, knowing damn well that Alexia wouldn‘t dream of letting you fall or hurt yourself in any kind of way.

"Keep walking, amor"

After a short walk in the sand, the woman stopped, slowly revealing the sight in front of you.

There was a large picnic blanket, cushions and basket, wine and two glasses standing next to it - it looked romantic.

"Ale- what‘s all of this?" you asked confused, already emotionally touched by the gesture.

She sat down, making herself comfortable before she tapped between her legs, "come here"

Sitting in between her legs, staring towards the ocean and the beautiful sunset while she purred two glasses of wine.

"This is wow" you muttered, not yet leaning into her body as you were still moody at her but still admiring the work and view. It was indeed very romantic, rose petals and candles decorated everything around the two of you.

"I‘m sorry for avoiding you" Alexia started, loosely wrapping her free arm around your midsection, "i didn‘t mean to act weird. I was here with the girls to practice this- they helped me to set everything up and encouraged me for what I’m about to do. Ingrid decorated, Frido made the snacks and well, Mapi carried everything while I was freaking out at home because I didn’t know what to wear. I‘m sorry for letting you think i want to break with you or for acting weird, i was just really nervous these past weeks" she put her wine glass down in the sand, making sure it wouldn‘t fall before she pulled something out of her pocket, "I’m always nervous when I’m around you but this time it was different. I was scared of getting rejected and in return, I rejected you without even realizing."

Hidden in her hand, she gave you her little 'present' - a key.

"I would like you to move in with me." she breathed out, her heart racing.

You turned in her hold, looking at her with wide eyes.

"You‘re sleeping at my apartment almost every day and i can barely sleep without you being in my arms, so i thought maybe you would like stay at my place every night from now on" she rambled, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

The widest grin broke out on your face and you kissed her - you had been wanting to bring up the topic since awhile now, yet always feeling too shy to do so as you knew Alexia loved her personal space and alone time. You didn’t want her to feel pressured or to feel like she had to agree.

But now you’re even happier that the idea and suggestion came from her - she wanted this too - she was ready for the next step.

"I’d love to" you answered, kissing her rapidly as she giggled while you did so.

"I‘m glad" she sighed in relief, puckering her lips once again.

More kisses, please

You happily accepted the key.

The key wasn’t just any key, it symbolized that it was the key to her heart and home, that communication was the key to happiness, and that her nervousness couldn't always open all doors - which she had realized now;

Spending the whole at training without you was horrible. She never wanted to experience that again.

As your little picnic date continued (both of you back at being sickeningly in love with each other) the sun almost down completely, a question popped up in your head, "Mapi doesn’t have a problem with me, does she?"

A loud hearty laugh escaped your girlfriend, "no, amor, you‘re perfect. When you called me the girls were with me and I panicked and Mapi was signing something, so that‘s what came to my mind with her wild gestures. I‘m sorry if it sounded rude. Everybody loves you and you are very much a part of the group, my favourite member in fact"

Weirdly, you could imagine Mapi way too well and Alexia never lied to you. Added to that she was a horrible liar, her brows slightly raising when she lied or was trying to.

You believed and trusted her. It all made sense now - you remember how nervous she was when she asked you out on a date, you remember how nervous she was when she actually took you out, also how nervous she was when she asked the girlfriend question and how nervous she was just today.

You could only imagine how nervous she would be if she ever decided to ask you to be her wife.

Which Alexia definitely would do.

She would always be nervous around you, it‘s you - you‘re way too perfect for this world, so Ale had every right to be nervous every day anew - you were the key to all her happiness.

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personasintro · 8 months

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Mutual Help | #56

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.7k+

�� 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Your trip is slowly but surely coming to an end.

Minus some bumps along the way, it's safe to say you had a great time either way. You and Jungkook have managed to talk like proper adults and it went well. But most importantly, you've made up. It is sad there's goodbyes soon to be said. You kind of wish you could stay here for at least another day.

But all of you have to go back to adult life. The weight is lifted off your chest, practically non-exist as you and Jungkook share a soft smile while all of you pack your things. Well – except Taehyung who's sitting on one of the portable chairs with sunglasses on, too hungover to help his best friend who's been complaining for the past ten minutes.

"I take it you finally made up." Maya comes up to you, folding up a thin blanket when there's no one nearby.

"We finally talked." you answer.

She surely notices the relaxation behind your tone and features, causing her to smile knowingly instead of saying anything for a moment.

"And? How did it go?"

"Good. Great, actually. I explained myself well and we both had something to apologize for. It's not even about the apology. I think us talking is more important and even though I was pretty scared and unsure to just walk up to him and talk, I'm glad I got it off my chest."

"Being honest is not always easy but I knew you guys would work it out. From what I heard, your friendship has always been strong." Maya grins.

"How do you know that?"

"Namjoon," she chuckles simply. "But that doesn't matter. Even I can confidently say it's true. And I haven't known you for too long and I solely know this just from seeing you and him, plus hearing you talk about him."

You avert your gaze to the ground, your shy smile causing you to feel even more shy when you feel her eyes on you.

"I'm jealous though. The sex after such an argument is gonna be amazing."

And just like that, the air shifts and your gaze snaps toward blunt Maya who's already grinning, expecting your reaction of shock and disbelief.

"Yeah, that's not happening." You cringe, muttering.

"You don't want to? Wow, I mean—shit." Maya's the one who's shocked which has you snickering under your breath. She's unbelievable.

"Not that I don't want to, but we've decided to take a break from... the sex part."

"And whose stupid idea that was?" she exclaims, a laugh escaping from your lips the moment you see her face while she dramatically leaves her mouth open.

"Mine."

"That explains it."

"Hey!"

She laughs, letting you know she's only joking.

"I thought it would be for the best. I can't really explain it. I just think it's time for a break."

You're not going to tell her he fucked you in the woods while you both were unable to communicate together and were pissed off at each other. While you don't find it uncomfortable to be talking with her about your sex life, there are some things that are better left between you and Jungkook only. It's not like you're embarrassed about it but it feels too personal and intimate to talk about it openly. In the end, just like you told Jungkook, you wanted it at that moment and you don't regret it happening. He was right when he said the sex was good. It always is.

But anyway... you two hooking up surely changed a few things between you and him. You let lust control you and while you believe sex like this doesn't necessarily have to mean a bad thing, you wonder how else would you solve it if you weren't hooking up.

It's all frustrating and it seems like there are a few things you can't answer because it's that confusing. And you don't understand them.

It might sound all dramatic but it's nothing like that. It's no big deal. You'll continue your friendship the same way and the only difference will be sex. You can't think about it too much, knowing once your hormones get the best out of you, you're going to have a hard time accepting your own idea.

"What about you guys? Are you ready to go back home?"

Maya groans, tilting her head back as she nods. "Yeah, I could do another day here. Though we've got a wedding to plan."

"Do you know what month it's gonna be?"

"We don't. We're about to make some calls and meet up with a few people to see which place is closest to our terms. I'm excited, don't get me wrong, but it's so stressful to plan everything. We definitely want it to happen this year after having a conversation. But summer is pretty much all booked everywhere, unless we want some unaesthetic and cheap place."

She sighs before smiling.

"But it's okay. Joon is a huge help and he's very much involved. We're doing everything together."

"That's great. Let me know if there's anything I can help with. I'm not sure how I'd be able to help, I know shit about weddings but just call me if there's anything I could do."

Maya gives you an appreciative smile. "You're a sweetheart."

With a smile on your face, you start folding a sleeping bag which you're sure belongs to Yoongi, who (surprisingly) is cleaning up the truck of his car so everything is neat and good to go. You're unaware of Maya's stare that's aimed behind you until she speaks up.

"A stupid sweetheart if you decided not to fuck him."

"What?" you mumble, following her eyes.

There he is.

Jungkook stops his task to grasp the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and dabbing the tiny droplets of sweat covering his forehead. That wouldn't be the issue if he didn't expose his abs to everyone's eyes – even though only you and Maya are staring – showing his bulky chest. Dryly gulping, you quickly turn around and nudge Maya to look away.

She gives you a knowing look, offering you a friendly pat to your shoulder as you click your tongue in annoyance.

They're just abs. Ones you've seen multiple times. You're fine.

You're going to be fine.

You still rush to pack your things, not even glancing in Jungkook's direction. Too scared to see him doing bare minimum and look absolutely hot while doing it.

Everything went back to normal. Well, new normal.

Yoongi acts like he hasn't spent a whole weekend with you, still patiently waiting for his lunch every day. Even on the way back home, he barely said a word and hummed quietly to his playlist. Surprisingly, you took a decent nap, catching up the lost sleep you experienced the night before.

After four days of constantly buying Yoongi a lunch, you regret ever inviting him more and more each day. The man demands his lunch, holding you up to your deal. Are you surprised? No. Were you hoping he would leave you alone after a few days? Yes .

The group chat is full of memes and possibly dates to hang out again, reminding you of your supposedly summer vacation. After the camping trip, you're a little bit more wary to plan something longer and serious than just a casual hangout. It's pretty stupid. One argument shouldn't hold you back from experiencing new memories with your friends.

You and Jungkook haven't really spoken since the camping trip. You got to say a warm goodbye and ever since then, both of you have been too busy jumping back to your lives to talk. You know you're fine though. In your friends group chat, you've replied to one another a few times – mostly reacting to the memes or just to joke around. So far, there's not much change in your relationship with Jungkook. It feels pretty same and you know it's only because you haven't had the time to hang out and be alone. Is it stupid of you to say that you're a little bit nervous when that time comes?

However, it eventually comes just when you anticipate it and you don't avoid it. This has been your idea after all.

You and Jungkook text back and forth, this time in a separate chat without prying eyes of Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook's days and evenings are fully packed. There's not much time to hang out typically at your or his place – which again might be dangerous and too soon for you. You're being dramatic, that's for sure. But once he comes up with a plan, for some reason you agree even if his plan is the least common place to hang out for you and him.

Stepping inside the building, you're surprisingly met with a nice scent of freshness instead of sweat and testosterone. The gym Jungkook visits is certainly popular and modern, based on the fully packed gym and its interior that has a sweat already rolling down your back.

“This is most certainly new.” you mutter, eyes wide staring around you as Jungkook cackles, leading you toward the front desk.

There, of course, is a young female receptionist wearing a cropped tank top with leggings as if she's the one that's about to work out. Once again, Jungkook's often visit here shows when she easily recognizes him and both drops formality, which you don't expect.

While Jungkook goes to equip your gym access after you greet each other with the receptionist, you silently standby and listen to their conversation. You're aware of Jungkook's membership here and judging by the clear sight of the receptionist recognizing and knowing him, he doesn't have to show anything to prove his identity.

“Are you interested in getting a trainer for this session?” she asks, eyes jumping between you and Jungkook.

“No.” You and him speak at the same time.

Nodding, she clicks off a few things on the computer before she says the price for a single access which has your eyes almost falling out their sockets. You and Jungkook both pull out your wallets. Desperately trying to beat him, you're too late as he pulls out his card sooner and pays.

“I could've paid for myself.” you point out, pursing your lips in a mere annoyance. Can't lie though. Your heart surely feels lighter knowing you haven't had to pay such a price for a full hour and half of torture.

Suddenly, Jungkook's plan doesn't seem that good at all. You would very much test your willpower back at his or your place.

“I know you could've.” he sings out annoyingly, leaving you to roll your eyes at him as he thanks the woman, leading you away. “It was my idea, I know this gym is a bit pricey and you're not exactly the type to spend money on something like this.”

“Yah!” you nudge him, met with a toothy grin as he teasingly nudges you back. “What are you saying? Maybe I'll enjoy working out. I should work on those muscles.”

You and him share a look, grinning at each other after cracking up a few moments later, knowing very well he's right and you're full of shit. Working out is not exactly your priority. You have enough exercise when working, constantly on your feet all day. Not mentioning how much you walk and sometimes rush to get Yoongi his fucking lunch. But well, that's completely on you. It's a nice reminder to never do that again. To involve him in your stupid plans.

While Jungkook leads you to the gym equipment (you're sure he would know his way around blindfolded), you're trying your best not to stare at all those muscular and slim people around you. Damn, you're really out of place right now. They all seem to know what they're doing.

“You wanna lift some weights?” Jungkook asks, tossing down water bottles and two towels he grabbed from home for you and him. “Wait, you did some stretching before coming here, right?”

When he's met with silence, he looks up just to see your brow raised with a frown on your lips. He sighs, disapprovingly and not very subtly shaking his head as he mutters your name.

“I got into this bizarre outfit right after I got from work!” you exclaim, pointing at yourself.

You tried your best, alright? A simple black leggings and an oversized shirt. It's definitely not the hottest outfit you would often see on Instagram of some fitness model, or just most women who work out and want to look nice. But who cares?

“And I don't ever stretch. Nobody's got time for that.” you mutter.

Jungkook snickers, some of his hair falling and shielding his forehead as he sits down on the bench. “You should stretch every morning, regardless if you work out or not.”

He used to stretch your muscles in other ways.

Oops –intrusive thoughts!

“Alright, alright.” You roll your eyes at him which has him laughing.

“Okay, do some basic stretching while I do some lifting.” Already seeing your disapproving face, he continues. “Trust me, you're gonna thank me later.”

“But you said you would go easy on me!”

He did say that. In fact, he doesn't plan to destroy you on your first proper work out session. And probably the last because who knows? You're unpredictable sometimes.

But instead of calming down your nerves, he lies down but not before shooting you a smirk. “When have I ever?”

He starts lifting the heavy weight, pressing his lips tightly as he occasionally groans, some of them taking you far away from the gym. Still standing there, you dryly gulp and wonder, why the fuck you haven't invited him over instead? Suddenly, it sounds way more safer than this for numerous reasons.

Jeon Jungkook is coming for your neck.

All he does is the same thing he would’ve done if you weren’t here. He’s focused, checking on you to see if you’re really stretching your muscles like he has advised you from time to time. While he’s oblivious to your inner thoughts and how much you’re actually trying to ignore the way his muscles tense and flex during his workout, he makes sure to give you a stern look every time he sees you flaking.

He would’ve been a stern trainer, that’s for sure.

One thing about him is that he takes his job and hobbies very seriously. He doesn’t like when people fuck around — maybe that’s why he’s so opposed to take Taehyung to workout with him. You’re clear Taehyung would enjoy being here just as much as some of the female audience clearly enjoy watching Jungkook. Obviously, he would not enjoy them eyeing and salivating over him, but rather appreciate the clear attention because you know they would eye Taehyung just as much.

But Jungkook stays focused on himself, partly focused on you while you’ve been stretching your legs for the past five minutes until Jungkook reminds you to switch and stretch other parts with breathless voice.

Once he finishes, he sits up and takes a short break as he watches you with an amused expression, sparkles dancing in his dark brown eyes.

“What?” you huff out. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“No,” he laughs. “I just never thought I’d see the day of you working out.”

Straightening up, you flip him off with a sarcastic smile which allows him to laugh even more. “Don’t sweat it. I’m not working out yet.”

After a minute, you stop stretching feeling like you’ve done a decent job. Met with Jungkook’s gaze, you purse your lips.

“You know… we could’ve gone to a cinema or do something instead.”

“Complaining already?” he asks amusingly, resting his arm over his thigh as he manspreads himself.

Are you? It definitely sounds like it and to be honest, you're not sure. You thought spending time with him just hanging out would be a great opportunity to get your friendship back to the old ways. Even though there was a thought in the back of your mind of how that was going to go when you simply imagined Jungkook's sweaty body. You've had the opportunity to see him working out at his place and even back then, you had an awful time trying not to gawk at him.

With the never-ending thoughts, you grow more upset at yourself. Jungkook is one fine piece of man and that's definitely not how you only see him. He's much more than that. When you look at him, you see him . Not just the physically attractive side of him. Not the way those girls are still eyeing him shamelessly.

Although, you're not complaining for a reason Jungkook might think. You're not the athletic type like him, he knows that – hell, everyone knows it around you. Or perhaps, it's the tiny bit of this reason too. This is what you wanted.

Perhaps you made things more dramatic and serious than they have to be. Looking at Jungkook, seeing his toothy grin he sends your way while he's completely oblivious to your inner (and annoying) thoughts, some of the weight lifts off your chest.

“Not at all.” you assure him, ignoring his knowing look but luckily, he doesn't call you out on your bluff.

“Come on, maybe we should do some cardio now. Get you heated up a little.”

Don't worry, you already took care of it, you think as you nod with a tight smile, following him across the room.

Jungkook sets up the treadmill for you, setting up a manageable pace for you before he joins you.

While music hits of this year blasts through the speakers, he advises you to focus on your breathing before he informs you you're going to do a few miles. Jungkook is keeping up with you, not sticking to his usual routine and for that, you're grateful. It feels nice to do the same thing together, just being in each other's presence even though there's not much time to actually have a conversation.

After a while, you notice the same women who were shamelessly watching Jungkook the entire time since they noticed him, join you on the treadmills. Scoffing a little under your breath, you glance at Jungkook who's too focused to even notice anything.

As you open your mouth to comment on it in front of him, Jungkook is in his own world as he suddenly tugs his shirt over his head before he tosses it over the handrail. That's when he must sense your prominent eyes on him as he glances your way.

“Seriously?”

“It's getting hot.” he explains, shrugging as he continues totally unbothered.

Huffing out, you tuck a strand of hair behind your hair that has managed to get out of your ponytail. “You're aware of your fanclub here, right?”

“What?” Jungkook breathes out, shooting you a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

You snicker, “There are like three women who have been eyeing you since the moment they spotted you. They even followed us here, so they could stare .” you inform him amusingly, shaking your head when you see his frowned expression. “Oh come on. Don't tell me you're not aware. It probably happens every time you come here.”

You're not dumb and neither is Jungkook. He's definitely not clueless how many female gazes he catches (sometimes even male).

“I wasn't aware of them . But yeah, it happens.” he admits almost shyly, clearing his throat.

You trace his tattooed arm with your eyes for a moment, before saying: “Has anyone hit on you while you were working out?”

“Y/N!” he exclaims, sounding almost scandalized by your blunt question. “I said focus on your breathing.”

Is Jeon Jungkook being flustered? It only spurs you on and spreads your cheeky grin even wider. “Oh, so you do get hit on.”

Jungkook huffs, “Yeah, it happens sometimes.”

Hm, sometimes. You're not sure if you believe that.

“How fast?”

“What is this?” Jungkook laughs, “Are you interrogating me?”

“Just curious.”

You really are. You haven't experienced being at the gym with him before. It's fascinating how he behaves here. Not that he's different or something, but it is quite interesting to witness this part of his life.

He sighs when she spots your curious gaze and the cheeky grin, rolling his eyes at you before he huffs out his response. “It usually happens by now. But you're here with me, so I'm guessing that's what holds them back.”

Why is that not surprising? Instead of feeling anything negative, you find that fact amusing and it makes you chuckle. “Oh, should I leave? Give them a chance to come here?” you joke, laughing even more when you see Jungkook's glare.

“You're annoying.”

In the midst of your laughing, you notice him cracking a grin which he has tried to hide. Your body feels lighter, despite your muscles growing tired already, but the moment between you lingers. This is how it felt before. Just you and him – teasing each other.

Turning off the treadmill sooner than you should've (after hoping you've clicked the right button), you take the small towel Jungkook has brought you and wipe your forehead. You bite back the laugh that wants to come out when you see Jungkook's suspicious stare.

“Scared I'm gonna leave?” you tease, causing him to huff out as he cuts off his run and turns off the equipment.

“Don't you dare.” he says, wiping his own sweat as he grabs the bottle of water and takes a few gulps.

While his head is tilted back, throat bobbing at the way he gulps, you find yourself eyeing his buffed out chest. You don't expect to see Jungkook's eyes on you as soon as you look away from the amount of naked flesh, cheeks heating up immediately as his lips curl into a smirk.

“Stop teasing me.” he simply says, moving closer as he drapes his towel over his shoulder.

“Are you sure I'm the one that's teasing?” you ask silently, eyes flickering down to his chest again as he chuckles.

“I always tend to take off my shirt. I promise I'm not teasing.”

You believe that. Jungkook doesn't owe you an explanation and after all, you do know very well he prefers to be as naked as possible. Looking around, you spot a few guys shirtless as well and it's not that unusual to see the extra skin here.

“Perhaps you could control yourself a little, you know, around me.” you say with a cheeky tone, pointing at his body as he plays your game, humming while nodding.

And then he does something unexpected. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, feeling the softness of it as it feels like he prints his fingertip to the skin he tasted many times before. “You wanted the break, remember?”

The way he drops his tone but still keeps it light and teasing causes your heartbeat to pick up its pace. Stop, stop, stop . Hearing the warnings and red lights going on in your head, you stay rooted in your spot as Jungkook drops his hand, lips twitching.

He's not oblivious when it comes to you though. He can tell your single body language or expression from miles away.

“Perhaps you're the one who needs to control yourself a little.” And then he's patting your shoulder in a comforting manner.

He walks away, laughing and fully content at your speechless appearance, ushering to continue in your routine as you mindlessly follow him. But not before sending a small glare toward Jungkook's fanclub, seeing them whispering among themselves.

Surprisingly, things go back to normal and there's no teasing happening after that. While your heart still beats a little faster than it should've – and it's definitely not from working out and following Jungkook's instructions – the lingering tension is almost not there. Jungkook is back to being serious, showing you the right way to do things when needed and you listen obediently, doing an actual good job at it. Even if he's back in your mind during all of that, you find yourself to be distracted enough to enjoy your time here. And just you and him hanging out.

Hour and a half passes quickly. Quicker than you previously thought it would. You get separated when it's time to take a shower and change clothes. Jungkook is finished soon, waiting for you at the reception (no surprise) as he's chatting with the receptionist again. Once he sees you done, he bids a goodbye and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“So, what are you saying? Are you gonna be my workout partner?” he teases, the two of you walking out of the building as he leads you to his parked car.

All you can muster to do in response is to let out an awkward chuckle. “I would rather not.”

For obvious reasons.

Tossing the packaged food, beef burger and big fries precisely, onto the desk, you watch the bane of your existence slowly turn his chair in your direction as he makes sure you see his well amused and annoying grin. Delivering him a huge sarcastic and tight smile, you hold yourself back from wrapping your hands around his neck and choke him.

Min Yoongi has been nothing but a big menace. The worst thing is that you can't really complain because you agreed to it.

Today, he requested to get a burger with fries for his lunch. The closest place is around twenty minutes from your workplace by a car, so you spent most of your lunchbreak getting his fucking burger, waiting for them to prepare it and then driving back. Your bank account is slowly starting to cry. Or is that you ?

“Why thank you.” he beams sarcastically, sniffling the air around him as he leans closer to the packed meal, only spurring your annoyance for sure.

“It's not like I had a choice.” you remind him sweetly.

“A deal is a deal.” he sings out, the sound of you taking a deep breath causing his lips to twitch.

You don't give him the joy of begging him, or even trying to talk him out of this. After all, he's not wrong. You like to think of it as your punishment for making a stupid decision. Overall, it wasn't that bad and for that, you're glad. Yoongi (surprisingly) got along with the guys and for what could be assumed a weak moment, he even told you he was enjoying the time there. It was certainly a weak moment on your part when you allowed yourself to cry in front of Min Yoongi. Somehow, you managed to convince him to hug you. The awkward hug makes you cringe till this day and you're sure Yoongi feels the same. However, he seemed to have his own weak moments for sure. Why else would he ever assure you that he did have a good time? Min Yoongi is not all bad, deep down you know that.

“So how are things with your boyfriend?” He starts unpacking his meal, the scent filling the room as the office is yet to be filled with your colleagues. Most of them haven't gotten back from their lunch breaks, but that will soon change as it's supposed to end in five minutes. Unless they don't want Junho to come for their asses and spend the rest of the day listening to him complaining.

“Good?” you ask confusingly. “Since when do you care?”

“I don't, but today has been boring as fuck.” he says simply, taking the first bite of the hamburger you paid for. You ignore the way your mouth salivates. You've managed to eat fries on your way here – something Jungkook would surely scold you for. He wouldn't approve of you eating while driving. Good thing he doesn't know.

“I told you I'm not here for your amusement, Min.” you remind him.

“Back to last name basis? I thought we're closer than that after our weekend together.” he says loud enough for Benjamin to hear who's passing by, your cheeks flaring hot as he gives you both a weird look, luckily continuing his way toward the breakroom, you assume.

“Our weekend? First of all, ew,” You cringe, erupting a laugh from him as his cheeks are puffed out with the hamburger. “And seriously? Do you really want rumors to start going around?”

“Nobody would believe I would go for you, relax.” he scoffs while your jaw drops to the floor. Once you collect yourself, you sit yourself on the edge of his desk.

“You did go for me once, as far as I can remember. And if I remember correctly, you did tell me my pu–”

“We don't talk about that.” he cuts you off abruptly, worth enough for you to say the words aloud when seeing his reaction as he looks flustered of you bringing it up.

It's not like you wanted to, he didn't give you a chance.

“Me and my boyfriend are doing great though. How about you? Have you found yourself a suitable partner that is willing to keep up with your ass?”

Yoongi chokes on his spit, trying his best for the food to stay in his mouth and that's when you know your job is done.

“Enjoy your meal, Yoongi.” you tell him sweetly, getting off his desk and walking away with a triumphal grin.

The rest of your day goes smoothly, even when you haven't had a proper lunch but your latest interaction with Yoongi just brightens up your whole day. The look on his face and the little frown he made sure you see just made your day. And you made sure to let him know that. Not even Benjamin giving you a weird look very subtly could make you ruin your day.

That's how you've felt until you get inside your apartment building, knowing you have to change your clothes and freshen up before the guys come here. Taehyung is still at work and you're pretty sure so is Jimin, so you have a little bit of time before their arrival. Just as you're putting your phone back inside your purse, you lift your gaze to greet the neighbor just for you to let out an audible gasp. One that gets the attention of the very last person you've expected to see.

In full glory, your ex-boyfriend stands a few doors away as he looks up, surely hearing you before his own eyes widen and mouth opens in surprise.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, surprised just as much as you are.

“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter, not dropping your eyes off Haneul.

He hasn't changed, yet he seems different than the last time you saw him. He's sober this time for sure but that's not what you meant. At the sight of him, you're reminded of the moments you've spent together. Still shocked to see him, Haneul carefully walks closer.

“I–uh, my friend moved here. I was just visiting him, I didn't know you live here, I swear.”

The little panicked tone and expression on his face makes your features soften. The last encounter you had with him wasn't a pleasant one. You've had enough reasons to stay mad at him. And maybe a tiny part of you still is because of his own mistake. You wouldn't like to go back to it though. You've talked since then and you ended that chapter in your life. But still. Seeing him in front of you, looking panicked and careful like a lost puppy makes you feel bad for some reason.

He has gained weight. Not lots of it but he looks… bigger and buff, though his cheekbones and jaw are more prominent. He's wearing jeans, a simple white shirt with a patterned overshirt over it. He looks… good. Even his hair is darker and longer. That's what reminds you of the last time you've seen him.

“It's okay,” you assure him slowly, not quite sure what to say. “I'm just surprised to see you here.”

“So am I,” he says, his features turning alarmed once again as he quickly jumps to elaborate. “I mean I'm surprised to see you here too. I really didn't know you live here.”

“It's fine.” you chuckle a little. You know how weird it must be for him too. Since the last time he assured you he wasn't stalking you, and based on his body language and expression right now, you're aware that he is actually scared of you to think otherwise.

He's nervous. You're actually surprised that you can tell even after all these months.

“I never thought I would see you again,” he says softly. “I–do you have a minute?”

Frowning automatically, you look around and shift on your spot. He is not oblivious to your evident uncertainty and perhaps discomfort, his face saddening.

“It won't be long. I just want to tell you something. It's been haunting me ever since… ever since the last time I saw you. I understand if you don't want to but…” he trails off, scratching his temple.

Looking back and forth between your apartment's door, you hesitate for a moment. For one, you're still shocked to see him here. To see him standing just a few feet away from you, looking at you in a total hope as he pleads with his eyes.

Do you want him inside your place? It sounds too… intimate. Your place is private. To have him there out of all people… you're not sure how to feel about it. But one thing is sure, you definitely don't want to have this conversation in the hallway where anyone could hear you.

“Let's take it inside, this is not a proper place to have any conversation.” you decide to say, slow with your movements as you move to tap your code and open the door.

“Are you sure? I don't wanna overstep.”

Looking across your shoulder, you find him staring into the distance to avoid looking at your code to give you some privacy. That alone makes you feel safer because you know he wouldn't hurt you. Whatever happened back at the club… it was a mess but that shouldn't define all of him.

Still, you create a distance between you and him, still making sure he sees your hardened gaze as you invite him inside.

“We can just talk here,” he says as soon as he closes the front door. “We don't have to go further.” He proposes.

Taking off your shoes, you cross your arms over your chest before leaning against the wall. “Okay, then talk.”

For a moment, he seems to be lost at words. But once you cock your brow at him, he shakes himself out of it and fumbles over his words. You're patient though, waiting for him to say whatever he needs to.

“I don't remember much from our last… from the last time I saw you. I mean–I do remember bits of it but I was too wasted to remember or even know what I was doing. I never reached out to you, not that I didn't want to, but I thought it's better if I didn't,”

You give him a look, raising your brow again as if to tell him that he's damn right .

“Listen, I don't wanna take any more of your time or bother you. I owe you a big apology, I shouldn't have ever cornered you like that. I was drunk and out of my mind. I still wasn't over our break-up and when I saw you–I lost it, I drank too much and I had no control over myself and for that, I'm ashamed.”

Squeezing your forearms subtly, you just stare at him before you sigh. “I was drunk too. I almost let you kiss me. And I probably would've if…” Jungkook didn't get between you two.

Haneul knows that, nodding understandably.

“I never had a peace of mind after that. I was dumb and irresponsible. I still wasn't over the first love as they say.”

You stand up straight, arms still crossed. “I do hope you find your happiness.”

“Can I ask you something?” He tries, waiting for your nod. Once he gets it, he takes a breath and opens his mouth again. “How did you get over it?”

“Time,” you say as he nods, knowing that must be his answer as well. “And I had my friends too.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he looks away as he nods. He knows who is included in your friend's circle and his very subtly annoyed reaction proves it. Jealousy is what got you into this mess in the first place. Who knows where you two would be if it weren't for the entire argument that took place during winter.

“Um, well thank you for giving me a chance to apologize in person. I really needed that and I appreciate it.”

You nod. You could tell him that you hope he truly moved on. That he deserves happiness too and he shouldn't beat himself over his past mistakes too much. Or that you hope he matured into the right person because deep down, you know he's not bad. He had hurt you and you never expected it from him, but looking at you now, you've moved on faster than he has. He is still here, has waited for his moment to apologize again and you appreciate that. But to create more distance and avoid unnecessary affection, you stay quiet. Something tells you it's better this way.

Perhaps you're being harsh. Or just reasonable and smart.

Who knows.

He opens his door and you follow him, ready to say the final goodbye which doesn't necessarily mean you won't ever say hi again if you see each other in person. Knowing now that one of his friends lives here, there might be times when you see each other again. But there's no longer any connection there. You won't stay friends like you could've. You think it could only mess with his head.

Once you look up, you wonder why Haneul hasn't stepped out yet only to find Jungkook standing on the opposite side of the door, a prominent frown and glare framing his face.

“What the fuck.”

Getting in between them, you pull Jungkook inside as he spares you a short glance before his eyes don't leave Haneul's figure. You get Jungkook behind you and as Haneul gets the clue, he steps out of your place.

“Thanks again.” he murmurs, trying not to glare too much at Jungkook who's still standing behind you.

Giving Haneul one final nod and silent goodbye, you watch his figure retrieve as you let out a big sigh.

“What was he doing here?” Jungkook asks, breathlessly almost getting worked up at seeing Haneul here.

It's not like you blame him. Haneul wasn't on his best behavior the last time he saw him. And before that too.

“His friend moved here and we bumped into each other.”

“Great.” he states sarcastically, taking off his sneakers as he gives you a stern look which makes you innocently shrug before closing the door.

“He wanted to apologize.”

“And you let him inside your apartment? Jesus, Y/N.” He rubs his forehead, causing you to shrug.

“He was drunk at that time, Kook. He wouldn't hurt me.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do know that!” you argue, watching his brow raise as you retrieve a little, nibbling on your lip.

Okay, maybe you don't know that. Haneul has proved himself to be… unexpected. But you don't think he would go far as to hurt you.

Jungkook sighs, closing his eyes as he leans his head back and stares at the ceiling for a second. He walks up to you, expression softening. “Y/N, baby,” He cups your cheek to make you look at him. You dryly gulp, having him this close to you after a long time. “We both know sometimes you can get upset and with a guy like him, you don't know how he's gonna react.”

You do know what he means. Sometimes you can't control your mouth. But that's the last thing on your mind, not with him so close and calling you– “Baby,” You crack a grin. “We're on a break, remember?”

Jungkook huffs out a laugh, dropping his hands as you try to ignore the mere disappointment by that simple action. “Sorry.”

“I liked it.” you silently confess.

He lifts up his gaze, mouth opening slightly before hard knocks behind you causes you to flinch. That breaks a moment as you see Taehyung's close up face on the display next to your door right after a ringbell can be heard, the system turning on the camera automatically. Jimin is behind him, nudging his head out of the camera. Snickering, you open the door as the lock unclicks and you're met with your friends face to face.

“What's up fuckers? What's the commotion about?” Taehyung cackles, tossing his sneakers off as Jimin sighs and shakes his head at evidently very active Taehyung.

“Ignore him. He had a few drinks after work with his co-workers.”

“I was celebrating!”

“You celebrate a lot then.” Jimin mutters, ignoring Taehyung's glare before his sharp eyes stop on you two.

“Commotion? What were you talking about?”

“We heard your voices when we got out of the elevator.” Taehyung answers you.

“Were you listening behind the door, Kim Taehyung?” you exclaim, shooting him a disapproving look as he gasps and shakes his head, clearly offended by the suggestion. As if that couldn't happen when it comes to him.

“We really weren't. We just heard voices because surprisingly, this fucker here was quiet the whole time on the elevator and even after we got out of it. We couldn't hear much. Taehyung is just as dramatic as always.”

“I was just joking, jesus. And who you're calling fucker?”

You roll your eyes. “You just called us fuckers.” you point out, everyone going further down your apartment as you turn on the lights since you haven't had the chance to go fully inside.

Taehyung just innocently shrugs. “But what's with the faces?”

“Y/N had her ex-boyfriend over.” Jungkook shrugs, your head snapping toward his direction as everyone in the room gasps.

Jimin and Taehyung stare at you as if you were caught in a lie, their mouths open as their asses drop down onto your couch at the same time. The scenario is funny and you would surely laugh at them if it weren't for their disapproving and scandalized looks.

“Ex-boyfriend as the slut shaming asshole?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes at you as you sigh.

“It wasn't exactly that, thanks a lot Jungkook,” you point at him, just as he shrugs in return before making himself comfortable in your chair. “His friend lives here, on the same floor I assume. We bumped into each other and he wanted to talk.”

“And you invited him here?” Jimin asks, frowning as you sigh just as Jungkook butts in.

“That's what I said!”

“I–” You stop for a second, rubbing your nose before sitting down on the arm rest, close to Taehyung. “I didn't wanna talk about it in the hallway. You guys didn't see him–” They start rolling their eyes and muttering a bunch of disapprovals before you quickly add. “He seriously just wanted to apologize for the last time. I gave him that choice and I'm unharmed. I'm okay. See?”

“You better be.” Taehyung warns. Jimin nods, agreeing.

“You guys act like he physically harmed me. He's not that violent.” you inform them.

As much as you appreciate their protective nature, you know Haneul is not the type to harm you physically. They all make it seem like that and you do think maybe they're a bit overprotective in this manner.

“And I'm perfectly fine to tell him to fuck off.”

“Sometimes that's not enough. Sometimes that can cause more harm than you think.” Taehyung reminds you.

“Yeah, sorry Y/N but Tae's right.” Jimin agrees.

“You never know how any guy can react when they're mad.”

“You guys are being dramatic now.”

“Maybe, but better be safe than sorry.” Jungkook mutters. His elbow is resting against the armrest, fingers nibbling on his bottom lip as he gives you a stern look.

“Kook's right,” Taehyung agrees. “Wait–Jungkook, you saw him? Was there a fight I missed?”

You snicker, “There was no fight, Tae because there wasn't a need for one.”

He disappointedly leans back with a pout.

“He left peacefully. Said what he wanted to say and he's gone.”

“I hope you're not planning to see him again.” Jimin wonders, giving you a suspicious look as you stutter over your words, shocked at his suspicion while Taehyung snaps his head toward you, already ready to react.

“Why would she? God, don't be stupid to get back to him, Y/N.”

“Oh my god!” You shake your head, stopping him right away. “First of all, no one is getting back with anyone. I'm not interested in him like that, not that it's any of your business.” You tell them sternly, looking at every one of them, met with frowning Jungkook and then a second after, with the same looking Jimin and Taehyung.

“We're just worried about you, that's all. But Jimin-ah, she has Jungkook now, right?” Taehyung teases.

“I appreciate the concern, but I'm not that dumb. And please stop bringing up me and Kook. We're not… doing that anymore.”

“What?!”

“You're not?”

Their reaction comes at the same time, bouncing against the wall of your small living room as the duo glance at Jungkook who nods in confirmation.

You weren't exactly planning on telling them, in fact you and Jungkook never talked about telling anyone but that's simply because there was no need to. As always, that's between you and Jungkook. But now it seems like a good thing to inform them since Taehyung practically assumes you and Jungkook are hooking up. And despite his obvious shock and almost disappointment, his mouth frowns as Jimin suspiciously eyes you and Jungkook.

You don't tell them that you took a break. It's almost embarrassing to admit that you want to continue hooking up with Jungkook. Firstly, you want to focus on hanging out with him only. It seems fresh and nice, despite all the difficulties you have to go through every day.

“So you're no longer hooking up?”

“Who's dumb idea that was?” Taehyung exclaims as Jimin clicks his tongue at him.

“So you're just… friends? Everything went back to normal?” he asks, staring at you before focusing his eyes on Jungkook this time as he nods.

“Do we have to talk about this?” Jungkook asks. “It's not like you discuss your sex life with me.”

“Well–”

“Not you, Tae.” Jungkook cuts him off, causing you to snicker. “But yes, she's telling the truth. Can we move on? I seriously don't wanna talk about my sex life.”

“The lack of right now.” Taehyung snickers, causing Jungkook to throw a pillow at him.

Everyone knows that if Jungkook wanted to get his dick wet, he could do it anytime. The difference is that he's not that type of person and it's something he and Taehyung don't share. Minus Jimin since he's in a relationship now which still blows your mind to be honest.

“I'm glad you guys got some sense after all.” Jimin says, leaning back as he makes himself more comfortable.

You and Jungkook share a look, your breath close to hitching once you spot those dark brown eyes from the distance, as you give Jimin a smile. One that you hope doesn't look nervous just as much as you seem.

“What about Greece?” Taehyung asks, filling up the thoughtful silence.

Luckily, for your and Jungkook's sake, the topic of your sex-life is no longer discussed – even though you know Taehyung is itching to know more details. Each of you has their phone in their hands, searching for the right destination for your first proper friend vacation.

There have been a few suggestions, though you have to stay realistic. And all of you got bills to pay.

“Won't that be more expensive?” Jimin questions, not quite sold on the latest suggestion.

“Not necessarily. We can always check.” he responds, shrugging.

“And what about Hawaii? Many Koreans visit it, it's familiar and kinda verified if that makes sense.” Jimin says.

“Hawaii sounds nice.” Jungkook hums.

“Oh–Hawaii! Let's go to Hawaii!” Taehyung says excitedly, straightening himself off the sofa as you laugh at his sudden excitement. “I saw this TikTok about Hawaii destinations. It was beautiful.”

“Are you sure it's the destination you saw in that video?” Jungkook teases, both of you cackling as Taehyung flips him off.

“Ah, my aunt went there last year. She can't stop talking about it.” Jimin ignores the three of you, sticking up to the topic while Jungkook and Taehyung stick their tongues out at each other. Kids.

“Honestly, I don't care much where we're gonna go. As long as it's a nice place.” you shrug. “Hawaii sounds nice. Let's check it more, so we can finally decide.”

Everyone agrees with you. When the four of you start searching for more details that entail what island you would pick, accommodation, flight tickets and overall the prices. The tiredness slowly overcomes you, your friends talk too much to the point you zone out. Their voices drift off as your head falls down on Jungkook's shoulder.

You hear them teasing you for falling asleep, but it gets ignored as you simply shrug and continue in your slumber. It's until Jungkook shakes you out of your sleepiness, his soft features are blurry until you blink a few times. In the distance you can see Jimin and Taehyung cleaning after themselves, the two of them in their own conversation. He gives you a gentle smile.

“We're going to Hawaii.”

Over the course of a couple of days, everything is booked and set up. It feels nearly unreal. You've never experienced a vacation that involved a proper beach and island. It doesn't properly kick in, not even when you inform Junho about the vacation leave you want to take in mid July. Not very pleased by that, he knew you do have a right to take one, so he had to accept it. When everyone got a free pass, the group chat was filled with exciting gifs and memes.

All that is left is to wait.

Taehyung: I fucking need this vacation y'all

Jimin: work?

He expects his job to be the cause of Taehyung's sudden message to the group chat.

Taehyung: no lol

Taehyung: just thinking about all chicks I'm gonna get

Jimin: dude…

Taehyung: what? you used to be way more fun -_-

Taehyung: you act like a priest now

Jimin: I don't think priest has a girlfriend

Taehyung: doesn't it depend on religion?

Jimin: do you know anything about religion man???

Taehyung: than you're just stuck up man then

Taehyung: fyi I do know a lot

Taehyung: women love to scream for god when I 🍆🍩

“Ewww wtf”

Jimin: we didn't need to know that

Taehyung: you guys are no fun -_-

Kook: Just another day in this gc I see

Taehyung: so boring

Taehyung: where are my friends?! >.<

“They're responsible”

Taehyung: like you're one to talk about responsibility

You gasp, snickering.

“Fuck you”

Taehyung: come here then bby :P

Jimin sends a laughing gif, probably rolling from Taehyung's ridiculous messages.

Jimin: we've matured Tae, time to find a girlfriend

Taehyung: I'd rather cut my dick off

“Can I do it? 🥺”

Jungkook sends laughing emojis.

Taehyung: I knew you were kinky little shit

“Seems like you're the kinky little shit”

Taehyung: I never hid it ;)

“again… EW! -_-”

Jimin: petition to cut tae's dick

“Maybe then he'll finally think with his head rather than his dick”

Taehyung: you little bitch

You send an emoji sending a kiss.

Taehyung: y'all are so mean

Kook: I'm in the middle of photoshoot and I'm reading about Tae's dick

Kook: get a grip

“But I love talking about Tae's dick :(((“

Taehyung: YES!

Jimin: lmaooo

Kook: seriously? -_-

“Yes 😘”

Taehyung: she can talk about yours if you want kook

Kook: I'm outta here

“Taehyung -_-”

Taehyung: just jk omg

Jimin: let them live bro

Taehyung: you're one to talk dude

Jimin: fuck off

“Are the flight tickets returnable?”

Taehyung: no you're stuck with us

Jimin: actually they are but you're going with us

Taehyung: you have no choice ;)

“I'm seriously gonna slap the shit out of you Taehyung”

“But I can't I'm working”

Taehyung: I can visit you ;) just try me

Jimin: yeah don't do it girl

“I'm seriously gonna kick your ass”

Taehyung: I thought you wanted to slap the shit outta me :(

“I can do both”

Taehyung: I'm sure you can

Taehyung: Kook??

Kook: leave me alone

Taehyung: disrespectful brat

“Tell him to leave me alone too :<”

Kook: yeah leave her alone too

Taehyung: because what? what you're gonna do? :))

Jimin: you're never gonna let that go will you

Taehyung: nope ;) love to tease them

“Just come here, I'm gonna show you what's teasing”

Taehyung: cumming!!

Taehyung: oops I meant *coming :)))

Kook: 🙄

“🤮”

Jimin: lmaooooo they disgusted

Jimin: me too me too

Taehyung: now that my job's done, enjoy your day you fuckers 😘

There are no messages for a while. You're guessing all of you are busy. It's the middle of the day after all.

“Is he drunk?”

Jimin: no… just taehyung

Somehow, that sums it all up.

After work, you're in the middle of sorting out your laundry when you videochat with the guys. Much to your surprise, you ended up clocking off early which doesn't happen very often – if ever. Junho has seemed to be in a good mood today, which resulted in letting some of you leave early. Yoongi included who couldn't seem to be happiest as he rushed out of the door as first.

“Where's Jimin?” Taehyung asks, holding his phone down as he unlocks the door of his apartment. The angle would not be very flattering for most people, but it's unfair it's not unflattering when it comes to him at all.

“I think he's on a date.” Jungkook answers, one hand on a wheel as his phone is perfectly angled at him.

You laugh at Taehyung's face. “You know, you could try to go on a date too. I've got a few coworkers who would surely be interested.” you tease him, laughing even more when you see his features scowl in a mere disgust and disinterest.

Jungkook cackles, eyes focused on the road.

“If they're interested in having the time of their lives, my phone's on.” Taehyung jokes.

“You're so confident about that.” Jungkook laughs.

“You know Kook, you should've known that–”

“Alright, alright. Spare me the details. I'm driving.” Jungkook cuts him off quickly, making a grimace that makes you giggle.

“Besides, I'm heading to the club tonight.”

“Alone?” you ask, brows raised in surprise.

It's not like Taehyung is not the type to go somewhere alone, especially to a club. But it used to be something at least one of you went to do together.

“No, I'm meeting Mark in an hour.”

“Wait–Mark as in the Mark I worked with?” you ask, closing the washing machine's door with a thud as you stare wide-eyed at the screen.

“Yeah.”

“How do you know him?” you ask, “I mean—how did this happen?”

You haven't heard of Mark for months. It's true you've seen him a few times after you quit the job there while visiting, but he hasn't been on your mind since then. It's not that weird because Taehyung knows him, you introduced them and Taehyung is very social, but you would've never guessed they actually hung out.

“You know.. My friends started to focus on monogamy, so–”

“Shut up.” You laugh as Taehyung grins before giving you a proper explanation.

“I don't really know, I was in this other club one night and he was working there. I remember him from the time you worked together. Anyway, got drunk and we talked. We bumped into each other a few times since then and we kinda started hanging out.”

“Well, say hi to him from me.”

“Will do.”

A message pops on the top of your screen. You read the name, seeing it's Jungkook texting you. Taehyung starts to ramble, while Jungkook waits at the red light that illuminates his face as he cocks his head toward his phone, motioning for you to text him back.

Kook: movie night tonight? have a free evening

A sudden rush of happiness evokes in your chest and you're too quick to type back.

“Yes!! Got a few movies recs we can watch”

“What are the two of you smiling about?” Taehyung asks, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“Nothing, nothing.” you sing out, seeing Jungkook chuckle as he starts driving again.

“You can join me.” Taehyung suggests.

“I don't feel like clubbing tonight.”

“Yeah, me neither. ” Jungkook hums.

“Boring, I'm telling y'all. You are getting boring as fuck.”

“We're getting older, Tae.” you laugh.

“You? You're the youngest out of all of us! ” he exclaims.

“I'm an old soul, Tae. What can I say?”

“Old soul my ass.” he grumbles.

The three of you laugh and joke around until the call ends shortly after. A few minutes later, there's a knock at your door signalizing you of someone's arrival. Opening the door with a huge grin, your features falter a little when you see him. Jeon Jungkook stands in front of your door, hair wet as he informs you of the short summer rain he caught on his way here and that you've completely missed. Tattooed hand goes into his hair, swiping them off his forehead as a few droplets drop down his thin black leather jacket.

He looks straight out of a movie. A total heartthrob.

He arches his brow at you, chuckling. “You're gonna let me in or not?”

Fuck.

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