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#because i love him hes my best friend and i have not spoken to him since august
skyrigel · 2 days
Note
Hey Rigel I love ur work like so much 💓 can I request Anthony bridgerton where he is getting married and realises his love his y/n or smth similar with him getting jealous and angry when y/n and Benedict or colin fake date like tht or anything if this doesn't make sense 😭
Enchanted | A.B x you
Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x fem!reader, Benedict x fem!reader x colin ( platonic)
Part 1 of Enchanted, " Sparks fly " | 3.8k
Synopsis: When Aubreyton's CEO strikes a match with Miss Edwina sharma, because she's nice and kind and witty, ofcourse nothing could go wrong, except the bride elopes, except Colin has a plan, except the plan is you.
Warning :CEO! Anthony x assistant! reader, Asshole! Anthony, Benedict x sophie, Polin, bridgerton's chaotic dynamic, reader and Benedict share one brain cell that's mostly with you, alcohol, fake marriage( Anthony and reader), social media au, office au, modern setting, forced proximity, jealousy jealousy, mutual pinning, fluffy fluff, bit angst, arranged marriage, bit Collen Hoover bashing but it's a joke ( maybe not ) no Edwina bashing, scary Kate sharma, yes!!! ( Might add more later )
Rigel's note 🪩 : This makes perfect sense to me anon !!!!!! I hope modern setting au is good, I live and die for jealous! Anthony<3 also Benedict x best friend! Reader, *kisses* i really hope you like it, my silly little series and hit on multiple parts fic, my requests are open and sorry it took so long, bad Rigel :( this series needs a banner but I am so lazy !!! <33333
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" Your brother is an idiot." You said, gritting your teeth as your mail blew with applicants, beautiful young ladies with peculiar yet remarkable talents.
" That." Benedict catched the grape midair with his mouth," we know of." He added with a cocky grin.
" Read another ! " Colin peppered, stealing your cookies which you ignored, sighing as you opened another mail.
" Tiana Young, twenty-one, I like to read, write and sing, my favourite author is Collen Hoover—" Benedict snorted, " —I like children and hope to be a mother, I am very soft spoken and good natured, my neighbours call me Ti, because I am a tea kinda person—"
" What's a tea kinda person ? " Colin bited the smuggled cookie, Benedict pulled the remaining to his side hastily, you felt your appetite long gone.
" It's like...they are like tea..." Benedict said, more in doubt as he looked for affirmation.
" Like milk tea or another tea ? " You asked, perhaps tea could takeaway your headache.
" What's an another tea ? " Colin's hand began to pull the tray, Benedict frowned but said nothing, taking one hurriedly and breaking it into two parts, offering you the bigger one.
" No thank-you, let me fix this Tiana's appointment." You exhaled, copy pasting a paragraph how (un) grateful you were to her for reaching out, she would soon have her appointment date and bla bla bla.
" I knew my brother was workholic but this wife hunting thingy is so exhausting." Benedict wiggled his eyebrows, you knew he was being kind but he wasn't helping at all.
" It would have been over if his requirements weren't so high, like he's not looking for a wife but some utopian woman god has yet to create ! " You were ranting, you knew, but this was the only way you could stop yourself from punching Anthony for putting you into this misery.
" Why can't he just fall in love ? " Colin looked at you and Benedict seriously, his mouth covered in crumbs, " Come on, love is like...like a force to be reckoned with ! " He beamed, ofcourse it was a force, didn't Penelope wrote something smiliary in her latest book, you somehow felt your heart shuddering, what would happen if Anthony were to be in love, some intelligent, beautiful woman, some utopian goddess of his, you didn't like the idea one bit, so you laughed it off.
" Brother in love ? " Benedict was in stitches, banging his palm on the table, shaking few very important papers that laid without any significance. They will be probably used as napkin if you weren't there.
" It's not funny." Colin got up, taking his coat, he rolled his eyes when Benedict refused to stop laughing, you shaked your head helplessly as another mail popped up, Jasmine had written a essay about global peace and increasing capatilism, you groaned, damn you Anthony bridgerton!
_
" Good evening Anthony." You tapped save on your screen as Anthony entered the office, a beak of sweat trickling down his neck line, okay, someone got either fired or roasted down to their very existence, you preferred the former.
" Good evening y/n." He looked up at you, he worried his jaw to say more but decided against it as he settled on his chair, it was very comfy and very big, years of working with him but you couldn't fathom the courage to ever have a taste, perhaps Benedict would help, maybe then.
" There are twelve appointments I have scheduled for tomorrow, Miss Becka—"
" Cancel them."
" What ?! " You almost shouted, you didn't waste your whole day to adjust and fit these pretty woman according to the time and weather and place and Anthony's mood so nothing went wrong, did he just said cancel them like it was nothing, this—
" We are going out Tommorow, it might take all day so cancel them." Anthony ran a hand through his hair as he exhaled sharply, your brain short circuited at the words more and more made some meaning, we ?! Did he, for heaven's sake said we ?
" You and me ? " You blurted and lowered your gaze when his eyes snapped to you, a deep color blazed your nose as you fiddled with your skirt.
" Yes, me and you." He confirmed and you could swore, that was a smile, a small, thin, almost unrecognisable on his always stern face, but that was a smile.
" Why ? " You closed your laptop, tucking the strands of your hair that usually came out after a long day, behind you ear.
Anthony pressed a key and it beeped, he shifted his face to you, thinking that he was almost frowning and finally, he said with a neutral face.
" I have found a match." His face gave nothing away, " Miss Edwina will be most suitable for marriage." He said it like it wasn't his marriage he was talking about, " she's very graceful and witty and would make a amiable wife and a kind loving mot—"
" Right." You snapped mid course, his mouth was hanging open with words lost in void, you knew very well Miss Edwina was a fine young lady, she was beautiful and kind and sharp at wits, ofcourse this ended your torment or perhaps began another, but not now, you needed to think.
" I..I promised Benedict for dinner. " You muttered, feeling your whole body numb as you stumbled out of your seat, Anthony watched, something glazed in his eyes but you couldn't place it, you might if you looked longer but you had no courage left now. You were almost at the glassy door, he was watching you intently and you felt his gaze burn at your back.
" You like my brother quite very much." He startled you, you paused, heart beats echoing through your throat. It was like he was accusing you, almost jabbing his finger on your chest. What does that mean ?
" What could I say ? He's very amiable." You turned to smile at him, it trembled on your lips and Anthony scoffed slightly, mouth curving in disdain but it was gone as soon as it crossed his face. Damn you !
" Have a nice day sir." You closed the door behind you, covering your face as a muffled scream cut through your cartilage.
_
" Miss Edwina ?! " Benedict almost screamed as you narrowed your eye sternly at him, he lowered his voice in a whisper, ducking his head down towards you, " sorry but Miss Edwina ?! "
" I know, I know." You swigged another gulp of the dizzy bubbling liquid that will give you a terrible headache tommorow but right now, you just wanted this uneasiness feeling to go away.
" Didn't her scary sister vowed to ruin him or something like that ? " Benedict licked his thumb, eye's watering at the spice, you loved this place's Chole bhature very much, last time Benedict cried when he accidentally bited the green masala filled chilly.
" Yeah, she refused to take ahead the Mayfair deal, or something like that, not that it would ruin anything and—" You sighed, leaning back your head as the soft music tickled your senses.
" What ? " You heard his faint murmur.
" Well Anthony was right, as soon as our team announced his engagement, ofcourse not revealing the bride, he's well trending—"
" He's always trending." Benedict groaned, chugging water as his lips were swollen with spiced heat.
" Yes, but not for thirsty things, i meant that Aubreyton is trending and our shares are touching the sky and it's a whole profitable season ahead." You ended breathlessly, you stared at him for full second before both your eye's crinkled with smiles and laughter that came from your hearts, it lightened the air somehow as well as your heart.
" You do remember I am part of the executive board ? " Benedict tilted his head with a warm smile and you shaked your head, feeling tipsy.
" Like you do anything except torment me and poor Colin ! " You pouted, feeling your cheeks flush as Benedict threw his head back and laughed.
" Poor Colin ? " He cooed, " he's probably getting laid tonight." He added with a wink, you slapped his shoulder nervously.
" Penelope replied ? "
" Ofcourse, my dear little brother wrote a whole ass three page message, with a picture of all her books that too hardcover and first editions."
" Wow." You said, impressed, Colin was head over heels, it was only a matter of time since the dazzling author knew.
" And what of Miss Beckett ? " You wiggled your eyebrows like Benedict did when he teased you, he turned a beetroot red as he fumbled with the last contents of his glass.
" She refused for a live in relationship." He said, his face grew sad and you mentally winced for putting him there.
" Oh." You nodded, Sophia lived with her evil mother who liked to see her suffer and she was, afterall, too good of a girl.
" Benedict..." You whispered when he closed his eyes softly, hiding his face behind his palms.
" I am not crying." He was. He sniffed as a few heads turned towards the pair of you, many with sympathy, probably thinking you had refused to marry him or something.
" Hey, hey, hey..." You pulled yourself as you dizzily tripped over to his side, wrapping your arms around him as he melted in your embrace.
" She doesn't understand..." He said it so muffled that it was unable to make out what he said, but you understood it anyway.
" She will, she loves you so much." You kissed his head and he nodded, tears streaking your shirt as he finally emerged with red, sticky face and puppy bright eyes.
" I think i drank too much." He admitted, you nodded, feeling yourself floating too.
" Let's call a cab, we shouldn't drive." You suggested, fiddling with cash as you payed the bill, leaving good tip for the teenager waiter, who smiled kindly at every inner joke Benedict shot.
" Uh huh." He focused hard on his phone, sticking his tongue out like he did when he was really, really drunk and or just really, felt the need to, or he was about to do something stupid, which he did.
Twelve minutes later, Anthony bridgerton was standing outside the restaurant with a heavy frown and it was strange to see him in normal clothes, like that grey t-shirt felt odd yet gorgeous and those sweatpants, you were way too drunk, you realised.
" You'll make a fine gentleman." Anthony curted his mouth, his words dripped with sarcasm that you and Benedict were too drunk to catch on.
" Thankyou, the cab idea was mine." He said smugly, ducking out when you smacked his ass with your purse, Anthony watched with wide eyes.
" Liar." You jabbed at him, he started to giggle and stumbled, taking you along before Anthony grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away from him, Benedict winked at you when Anthony closed his eyes, frustration or whatever that dazed him, his touch was electrifying, like current jostling in water.
Anthony pulled away his arms from you, his eyes strained like it pained him just the same it hurt you.
" You are wasting my time brother, get in the car." He glared, " come." He said to you, his gaze softened but that could be alcohol, you weren't reliable narrator especially when it was Anthony bridgerton.
" Well you could have refused." Benedict ran and sprawled inside like a bear, covering the whole back seat with his wasted body.
" Yes well, I didn't come for y—" he clamped his mouth in a thin line, nerve twitching on his forehead as he breathed hard, eyeing you as you ran after Benedict's seat thievery, you opened the door and his head almost snapped when he looked up you, it was a nauseous enough to make you vomit.
" Move." You pulled his hair, in no hell you will sit in the front seat, not like you haven't, but you were drunk and you were angry and you hated Anthony and you wished so much to just, to just, just once, once just, kiss him hard, that's alcohol, bloody alcohol.
" Leave this idiot." Anthony was suddenly behind you, he touched your elbow with same electric touch, guiding you to the empty front seat as he opened the door, you could feel Benedict wiggling his eye, you will deal with this bastard later.
" I was thinking—" Benedict started, once Anthony started driving, he was shut real quick when Anthony glared with words.
" Stop thinking." Anthony rolled the steering wheel and you looked away, those veins taunted and lured you, it was maddening and the streets were much dull and undistracting.
Benedict giggled at something he probably said in his head, you chuckled when he burped, he did too, only Anthony didn't.
" Don't you have a date tommorow with Mr. Dorset ? " Benedict craned his neck to get a view of you, two Bridgerton's eyes were too much to take as you thought hard, well yes a date, with Mr. Dorset, yes, you did remember.
" Ofcourse." You said, Anthony drifted a turn that jerked your head forward and you would have got a concussion if it wasn't his big palm that came for rescue.
" Are you okay ? " He asked, slowing down the car as his fingers pushed you back until the back of your head was pressed against the seat.
" Yeah." You confirmed, nothing was more threatening than his touch. He should bloody know that.
" Are you okay ? " Benedict mimicked and you realised he was down there, squashed on the car floor, his face hidden somewhere.
Anthony ignored him as his expressions hardened, he was breathing hard as he worried his lips, thinking and thinking.
" You do know it might take all day." Anthony finally said and you cocked your head to his side, you were drunk and well, sleepy too.
" What ? Well, it's a dinner date." You assured, Mr. Dorset wasn't letting go and a Thai curry wouldn't hurt anyway.
" Yes well, it might be very late." He was frowning now, his eyes were on the road but he would glance between nano seconds.
" Really ? " You pouted, you were way too gone now, it didn't matter, Anthony's eyes stopped at your lips and when he looked up, something changed, like it must have changed a long ago but it's colours were only visible now, like moon hiding behind the clouds, beaming but not seen and when it's finally high, hanging at sky, you blinked, expecting it to be gone, like everything, but when you opened your eyes, it was still there, as clear as ever, shimmering at you. That's alcohol, bloody alcohol.
" Yes.." Anthony gulped hard, pulling at Benedict's apartment, how much he wanted sophie to built a home with him, soon, you thought, soon.
" Oi y/n, I think I found your lipstick." Benedict hopped up, his face had lines where because he didn't bother to get up once he had fallen, with a shade that you never used in your whole lifetime, Anthony looked away when you tried to catch his eyes.
" That's not mine." You said, feeling anger creep up your neck, not knowing why, it's not that you were the only one who sat in his car and ofcourse you weren't his girlfriend, you weren't his friend even, he was your boss, you were his assistant, that's it, that's fucking it, you really wanted to punch his face, that's bloody alcohol, you would never drink again.
" Benedict, my brother." Anthony took the lipstick away which Benedict was trying to apply on himself, " get the fuck out."
" Goodbye to you too brother." He leaned to smooch Anthony when he hastily pulled away, growling.
" Bye bye sweetheart." Benedict smooched your cheek then and his lips only touched your warm skin before Anthony pushed him back in the back seat, it was, kinda rough.
" You are drunk." He told Benedict who shrugged, blinking heavily.
"He always kissed me goodbye." You glared at Anthony, this freaking bastard, chew on your lipstick, Idiot. You leaned down to kiss Benedict's cheek and he giggled softly, eyes locked with Anthony, his wide bastard grin flashing, glittering as Anthony eye rolled.
When Benedict was dropped, it was your turn, Anthony stared ahead like a statue, you were suffering in your own head.
The silence became heavy in air as the music was either tragic or too loud for your head and Anthony sensed the discomfort, turning it off altogether.
" What are we going to do actually? Venue deciding or something." You finally spoke, remembering how much you stared and stared when the article popped up, Anthony bridgerton looking for a wife !! You remembered the qualification list, should be well spoken, should be linguistic, should want kids, should be family loving, should be this, should be that, should have good enough hips to bear a child like what ?!
You remembered days and days when he would have his appointments, yes appointments, most of times he was out within five minutes, a frown on his face.
" She doesn't know algebra." He said one time when he came out within two minutes and you shrugged, well algebra was hard afterall.
And now Miss Edwina had ended all your miseries and torture, no lists, no more algebra's and Collen Hoover's, nothing of that anymore, Anthony would be a husband soon and perhaps he would love her, or already love her, he was so determined even when Kate sharma threatened to cut deals with Aubreyton if didn't stop sending flowers, well that was your doing, sending flowers because it was your idea, but well, it didn't matter.
" Well not the venue, but wedding ring and wedding dresses, Mother say we match and cake tasting and flowers—" we.
" When's the wedding ? " You looked at him scornfully, Anthony's eyes lowered at you as he stopped the car.
" Next week." Fuck you Anthony!
" Shouldn't you decide that with Miss Edwina herself ? " You were glad, but you had this feeling that he would be taken away from you, once married, he might not be yours, he was never yours, but still, why not start now ?
He frowned like it wasn't the most sensible and obvious thing.
" I..." He hesitated, " Miss Edwina might not want to go, since the wedding is too near and also, to keep it a private engagement."
" Oh." You didn't get a thing, your mind wasn't working as Anthony leaned down to open your door, you freezed, only your heart thudded loudly, could he hear ? What he did to you, well it wouldn't surprise you if he knew and still chose to torture your poor soul. " Why not state it publicly ? "
" I can't deal with the fanfictions." He said in matter of factly way. " And paparazzi giving Edwina trouble." Don't say her name, don't.
" Fanfictions ?! " You laughed so loud that he actually stopped thinking whatever he was, and just looked at you, as if taking in every detail, savouring them, drinking every bit of you in, he looked like he was mesmerized but that was just alcohol, just your silly heart, just you, who had read all those one shots, about you and him, ofcourse you weren't going to admit it and ofcourse you would be quite dammed if you ever saw Anthony getting shipped with Edwina Sharma, they are getting married in a week idiot, yes, but not today, not now, later, when it was time, please, not now. Later, now he was yours.
" You have a good choice either way." He was, for no reason, walking you to your door, you remembered how Benedict was practically kicked out earlier, he would tease you so much if you were to ever tell him.
" Oh please." You chuckled, rubbing your hands together in the chilly air, " I gifted Benedict onesies on his birthday."
Anthony smiled, it didn't leave his face until he caught you staring and you noticed how different he looked, when those lines were of joy instead of worry, he looked young and his boyishness made your heart do cartwheels.
" That was just a joke." He amused, " wasn't it ? " His smile faltered when you shaked your head in a no, fumbling for you keys.
" It wasn't so bad." Anthony said, somewhat traumatised, " Benedict wore them anyway."
" It had penguins ! " You cringed at the memory, a drunkish Polaroid like, blurred and saturated, it was vivid but just like yesterday, Anthony didn't dance until you were both so drunk, perhaps he smiled back than too, and looked just as dazzling.
" You are good y/n." Anthony said sincerely, " stop being mean to yourself." You opened the door but your hands freezed at the doornob, why Anthony had to cut the right wires, why he had to upside down your whole world ?
" Well, same to you Anthony." You said, he lingered on the doorway more than he should, it was alcohol, it really, really was but no amount of gaslighting could blur the memory away, you always remembered how brave you were that night when you leaned down, one step not much, and placed a small, chaste kiss, just a brush of your lips against his blazing skin. A touch to his soul, it sparkled and rose and busted into a thousand orbs and sprinkled like glitters on you and him.
" Good night." You whispered, Anthony stared, too stunned to say anything, then he smiled, small and enchanting.
" Good night y/n." His smile stayed.
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enwifen · 19 hours
Text
… 𝓚iss me ౨ৎ
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🫧 𓂃 (추) kisses can be scary, especially when you have no idea how, but when your best friend offers to show you the ropes you wonder… how bad can it be?
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a fic about jakey and kissing cause meife wants to be kissed (sigh)
warning: suggestive at most, making out wc. 1.8k
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When Sim Jaeyun became friends with you, never in his life could he have imagined the current situation that the two of you were in.
A random episode of Friends plays on your tv acting as background noise. Closing your eyes, you attempt to stop the tornado of thoughts chaotically swirling in your mind. Jake eyes you curiously, noting the way your eyebrows pinch together slightly which was a telltale sign that something was bothering you.
“You okay?” Your eyes shoot open which startles him a little.
“Yeah, fine.”
Jake gives you a ‘I know you’re not fine so tell me what’s up’ look. “Seriously, I am.”
“Y/n.”
“What!”
Jake sighs softly “Tell me what’s wrong.” He can see all the emotions wash over you, your mouth opening and closes as you try and find the right way to voice your thoughts without sounding like a mess.
Sitting up from having your head in his lap, you switch to facing Jake sitting cross legged on the couch. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”
Nodding slowly, confusion is evident on your friend’s face. “Right… what’s wrong with that? Plenty of people our age are in the same boat as you.”
“Well— yes but, I’m scared that when it comes to it, I’m gonna be an awful kisser.”
“You can’t be that bad, either way it’s expected since it’ll be your first, all first kisses are bad.”
“No they’re not.” Jake squints at you before laughing.
“Yeah? And how would you know?”
Realising the irony you quickly backpedal. “I meant I don’t want mine to be bad.” The corners of his lips turn downwards as he nods, understanding where you’re coming from. A small beat of silence passes.
“What was your first time like?”
A smirk makes its way onto Jake’s lips. “Woah are we still talking about kisses here— ow!”
Still armed with your weapon (a fluffy pillow) you flinch at him in an attempt to be threatening. “You know what I mean!”
“I do, I do, lemme think…” he trails off, looking up as his memory takes him back a few years. With Jake’s gaze averted, you’re able to admire him a little (platonically, of course). His fluffy bangs hide his brows that are bunched together in thought, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth — a bad habit you noticed he had. “Ah! I remember, it was about two years ago.”
The fluffy pillow serves as a source of comfort as you hug it to your chest. “You remember my ex, Ahrin, right?” Of course you did, you never really liked her all that much. She was whiny and took up all of Jake’s attention, the period of time that they were together was the longest you had went with seeing him so irregularly.
Not that you wanted to be in her position or anything. You just missed your bestie. So much so you lost sleep at night due to how much you would cry but, like, aren’t all friends like that?
Don’t all friends do that?
Don’t they repeatedly check their phone to see if the other had texted; typing and deleting hundreds of messages only for them to be left unsent? Even after the last time they had spoken was just a couple days ago?
Don’t they apologise for leaving you on delivered for so long and spend hours promising to make it up to you, calling you ‘baby’ and ‘love’ because they know you like it?
And don’t they come over the very next day because he couldn’t wait a day longer, hugging you as if his life depended on it.
Maybe they do all of that, maybe they don’t. You and Jake did though.
“…so yeah, I guess it wasn’t terrible but- are you even listening?” Jake asks in slight disbelief, finally glancing at you who seemed to be zoning out.
“Huh? Oh- yeah! Of course I was.”
“Repeat what I just said then.” He deadpans and you’re caught, slumping in defeat.
“Whatever- my first kiss was with Ahrin, it felt kinda good back then but looking back it wasn’t that special.” Jake shrugs though you sense there’s a little more to the story.
“So you didn’t… feel any fireworks?”
He snorts at that “you watch too many movies.”
“Is that a crime? Not my fault I enjoy romanticising things… especially firsts.”
“Romanticise all you want, as long as you know none of it’s real.”
You mimic Jake’s tone earlier “and how would you know? Have you kissed anyone besides Ahrin?” Jake shakes his head and for some reason that makes you happy.
“Did I manage to ease any of your worries with my story- well I guess you didn’t listen, huh.”
“I did!”
“Oh yeah? Where did we kiss then?”
You blush, immediately giving yourself away again as you name the first thing that comes to mind. “The school library…?”
“You really think I’m that much of a nerd?” Your silence makes Jake reach for the pillow in your lap to deliver a blow of Karma though you successfully manage to block it in time, letting out a squeal.
“I surrender!” Jake grins and puts the pillow down.
“Anyway, like I said, don’t work yourself up so much about first kisses… you could always redeem yourself with the second.”
Biting your lip in thought, you nod “I guess you’re right…”
“You’re still worried about it, aren’t you?”
Guilty again, you nod.
“Babe, I promise it’s not that deep- I could even help you out if you wanted.”
You blink once. Twice. Three times for good measure.
What did he just say?
Chuckling softly at your reaction, Jake repeats himself. “I said that I could help you out… if you wanted, like, teach you how to kiss or whatever.” He adds, trying to seem completely casual as if he didn’t just basically ask to blur the already fuzzy lines between you two.
An itch in your throat causes you to swallow, trying to digest your best friend’s proposal.
He was someone you trusted a lot, Jake wasn’t some mediocre looking guy either — he was attractive, and you’d be damned to turn down the opportunity to have your first kiss with him.
“Okay.” Jake looks surprised for a moment but his shock is quickly replaced by a warm smile. Just that alone is enough to comfort you, easing the nerves that had begun to make your body feel like it was vibrating.
He shifts a little on the couch to sit more comfortably before patting his lap, gesturing for you to sit. It’s not like this would be the first time but, now with the given circumstances everything felt different. The poor pillow is tossed aside as you climb into Jake’s lap, rough denim of his cargos brushing against your thighs.
Anxiously you look up at him, clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt. He smiles again, reassuring you with his warm hands gliding up and down your sides in a comforting manner.
“We’ll start off slow, okay?”
“Okay- wait.”
“Hm?”
You reach back into your pocket and pull out a small tube of watermelon flavoured chapstick. Sure this was just practice but the next worse thing after being a bad kisser was having chapped lips. Jake watches, amused until you tuck the tube away. “Good to go?” You exhale.
“Yeah.” Jake advises you to take a few deep breaths before starting. He gives you as much time as you need, even breathing with you because, frankly, he’s kinda nervous too. Not so much about kissing but more, wanting to make sure to give you the experience that you wanted. Yes it was ‘just practice’ but this was also literally your first kiss so, Jake had to take this seriously.
“First, try leaning into me.” Slowly you do, now close enough to where your foreheads are touching. As pretty as Jake’s hair was, it was a little itchy- but not uncomfortable, maybe ticklish? Focus!
Jake chuckles a little deeper than usual. “I can practically hear you overthinking, relax.”
“I’m trying.”
“We’ll try harder.”
Worry evaporates as you get used to being so close, reminding yourself that it was just Jake, just Jake who was inches away from your lips, just the same, good old bestie Jake.
You rub your lips together in anticipation, eager to progress onto the next step. Jake initiates the kiss, tilting his bed to leave a soft peck on your lips. It was barely there, barely even lasted a second but you still felt it and boy did it leave you buzzing. Like a bee to a flower, eager for more pollen.
“You try.” He whispers, licking his lips. Greeted with the sweet yet artificial taste of your chapstick. Jake is patient, not commenting on the long pause until you finally close the gap between you two. Yours was definitely longer than Jake’s, maybe lasting .5 more seconds.
“Sorry…” Jake smiles wide with a slight shake of his head.
“No, no, you’re good… how.. how did that feel?”
“Nice..” you mutter, shy. You’re rarely ever shy in front of Jake — this guy had practically seen all sides of you but now? You guess he was bringing out a new side of you even you didn’t know existed.
“Good, that’s good.” He mumbles. Time seems to tick away impossibly slowly. The room is silent except for your breaths, Netflix questioning whether or not anybody was still watching when the only thing you were watching was Jake and vice versa.
“Now try doing what you just did but longer.” You oblige, pressing your lips to his again. Plump and pillowy would be the right way to describe Jake’s lips, plump, pillowy and red, most likely from how often he bites them.
This time you only pull away once you need a breath but two fingers grabbing your chin gently pull you in again and you can’t find it in you to stop him. It’s now that you realise kissing isn’t as complicated as you had thought, following Jake’s lead of some sort of pattern.
One long kiss, pull away, a few shorter kisses, pull away and… that’s it, you’re kissing him.
Somewhere along the way you grew even more comfortable, arms now wrapped around his neck whilst one of Jake’s encircle your waist, his other up as his hand cups your cheek. How long you’ve been like this you don’t know but you’re certainly not complaining.
There were tons of other kisses out there but you were perfectly content with these ones for now. Safe and comforting — not at all intimidating like you had previously thought.
After a particularly long pause in activity, Jake rests his forehead against yours again. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
He opens his eyes to give you the same look he did earlier. You smile until your nose scrunches and giggles escape.
“For real this time… now kiss me.”
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xoxochb · 23 hours
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May I request a Luke Castellan x Aphrodite! reader. The reader was with Luke, Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia before they arrived at camp. Since they’ve arrived, Luke and the reader haven’t spoken much. When they’re sent on a quest together, Luke and the reader begin to talk again.
˗ˋ now pretty baby I’m running back home to you ˊ˗
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warnings: this is a little lengthy, theres angst at the beginning, but there is a happy ending!
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of aphrodite
summary: read the request!
A/N: this is the first fic I’ve actually been really proud of, I’m gonna cry
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you remember the first day you got to camp, it was rough, confusing, and overwhelming, and on top of all that- one of your best friends got turned into a tree
but now it’s been four months since then, and you were one of the lucky demigods that had gotten claimed within a month by aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. It wasn’t all that bad being here, but the worst part was that you haven’t spoken to luke since you got here
he was your best friend, yes, but with getting settled into camp, and now that he’s a counselor of his cabin, there’s no time to talk, and even if you did talk it was awkward, just simple a simple ‘hi’ or ‘how are you’
you don’t really know what made you guys stop talking in the first place, because when you first got to camp there was no camp duties to attend to yet, so you had plenty of free time, but things were weird between you two
it wasn’t you who drifted away from him, it was the other way around, and you didn’t understand why he did it. you recall countless times trying to ask him why he wouldn’t even care to look you in the eyes, but he would ignore or dodge the question every time
the first time you talked to him after three months was when you got assigned a quest by your mothe. you were asked to bring her back a stolen seashell, one that was very sacred to her.
you were instructed to bring at least one person on the quest with you, and you had no clue who you were even going to bring, you didn’t have much friends since you were still new, and you’re only friends were either too young, a literal tree, or was ignoring you
but alas, you caught luke by the lake one night skipping rocks on the water
now’s the perfect time, talk to him!
at first you seemed confident about this, but the closer you got, the faster your heart started beating
oh my gods, seriously? he’s your best friend!!
“are you going to sit or are you going to continue staring at me?”
you jump at his words, “I’m sorry I- uhm, can I sit?”
“I just told you” his eyes meet yours for the first time in months
“can we talk?” you take a seat ok the grass beside him
“that’s what we’re doing right now isn’t it?”
sarcastic as always
you roll your eyes, “I suppose” you take a deep breath before your next words “I got assigned a quest”
“I heard” he hands you a rock, and you take it
“yeah, well, chiron said I can’t go alone, said j have to take someone with me” you skip the rock on the water
“and you want me to go with you?”
he knows you too well
“yes, but if you don’t want to that’s fine, it’s just that I don’t really have anyone else to go with me and you were- are my best friend”
you’re a helpless mess
“of course I’ll go”
“luke- if you don’t want to go I won’t be insulted, I could just find someone else, I’ll work something-”
he cuts you off, “you haven’t changed” he laughs
“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” you stand up, thinking he’s making fun of you
he quickly stands up beside you, “no it’s a good thing, a really good thing, I’m glad you’re not like all the other stupid aphrodite kids”
“those are my siblings” you cross your arms, but in truth you can’t be mad at him, you could never be mad at him
“I know you don’t like some of them”
why does he have to know you so well?!
“only some” you look down at your feet, fighting the smile making its way to your face
you don’t understand how you went to long without him, this is the happiest you’ve been in months
“I don’t know if I can say this, but I really miss you” he looks at you with those wounded puppy eyes
“I really miss you too” you grin widely, what’s the point in fighting it anymore?
- 🏹 -
the quest was going okay until you got ambushed by a hoard of monsters, and you almost died
and you like to think that you survived because of love and happiness (you made a mental note to never tell your mother about this, you hated when she was right)
you remember that night under the tree, luke held your helpless body in his arms, your stomach bleeding out, a concussed head and broken ankle, you didn’t think you would survive, you were fully convinced these would be your last moments, but as you laid there, eyes on the stars and the feeling of luke’s arms holding on to you so gently, you thought you could have died happy if your last moments were with him
the bad part about your non-death was that you were injured and luke was crying. you never saw him cry, in all the years you knew him he never shed a tear in front of you
but here he sits, sobbing like a baby, begging you not to die, and seeing him so heartbroken over you healed you in a way, not because he was sad, of course not, but because he didn’t want you to die, because between sobs he mumbled a simple ‘I love you’ which was only three words, but meant so much to you
you also recall a week later when you were sitting in the infirmary, healing under the powers of the apollo cabin, luke not once leaving your side
you asked him, “why wouldn’t you talk to me?”
and you didn’t need to specify because he knew what you were talking about, because he knew you
“I was scared” he does anything but look at you, but you know by the way he grips onto your hand so tightly that it means nothing bad, “I was scared of losing you. after thalia, I was worried that you would get taken away from me the same way she did, and the fear of you being gone forever kept me up every night- it still does, but I thought that if I just stopped talking to you, then if I lost you it wouldn’t hurt as much as it would if we were close”
oh
you thought your wounds hurt- they did, very much so, but his words felt like a stab to the heart
“why didn’t you just talk to me? luke- I’m your best friend, you can tell me this stuff, I’ll never judge you for it, I swear it on the river styx” you squeeze his hand, something simple, but it always calmed him
“I thought that when you got claimed by aphrodite you would think I’m just some stupid boy you used to know, because gods, you’re gorgeous, I should have known she was your mother, but I didn’t think you’d want to be around me because I’m just me”
every word hurts, you wish he wouldn’t speak so poorly about himself
“I love you”
It’s three words, three simple words, but it means so much to luke, more than anything, and when he hears them, small tears start falling down his face
“oh luke” you sit up, and as much as it hurts, it doesn’t matter to you, because what matters most is the boy on your side
you cup his face in your hands and kiss each cheek were the tears had fell “please don’t cry, I don’t like seeing you cry”
“I love you too” he pulls you in for a gentle hug, nuzzling his face into your shoulder, taking in your scent, “I don’t want to lose you”
“you won’t lose me, I promise”
he tightens his grip on you, yet still careful of your fragile state
and you stay like that for maybe five minutes? you lost track of time, you knew it was best for him to let his tears out then keep them in, and once he’s calm he pulls away, eyes permanently glued to you
“I’m sorry” he wipes his tears
“you didn’t do anything wrong” you frown
“I feel guilty for ignoring you all those months”
“luke, it’s fine, we’re okay, aren’t we?” you cup his face again, and he leans into your palms
“y/n?” he mutters
“yes?” oh you’re soft voice, he wants to melt
“can I kiss you?” he smiles for the first time in two weeks
you can’t help but smile, seeing him happy makes you incredibly happy, and without saying anything you pull his lips to yours for a gentle, but passionate kiss
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HIIIIIIIIIII WE HAVENT TALKED IN A WHILE HRU
WHICH HYPERFIXATION ARE YOU ON NOW HUH 👀
AND WOULD YOU REC?
HIIIIIII, I FINISHED HIGH SCHOOL YESTERDAY AND I'M IN EXAMS SEASON SO I'M NOT DOING GREAT, HRU???
Girl, you just opened a big bag of worms cause this hyperfixation has taken over the other like 4 that were in my mind at the same time (one of them since January).
There are just a few things I have to warn you about the show before I throw my words at you: there is blood and violence, they do not shy from that; there is physical abuse mentioned and shown (although it's just shown in one scene, if that's the only thing bothering you but you wanna watch I can tell you when to skip); there is cursing, nothing major just what a high schooler would normally curse; abusive relationships and bullies are subjects that are heavily spoken about; death, don't know if that's a trigger but better safe that sorry and I'm pretty sure that's it
First, I have to ask you two questions:
Do you like supernatural stuff?
Do you like gays?
If the answer to both of them is yes, then you need to watch dead boy detectives. It's a series about two ghosts (Edwin Payne- "the brains", spent 70 years in hell, sassy little bitch, from London 1916 and speaks like it, gay, a fucking nerd, somehow everyone is in love with him except his crush (more like the crush doesn't know that he is in love with him, but whatever), so much trauma it's insane, tumblr's favourite; Charles Rowland- said crush, "the brawns", so bisexual but doesn't know it yet, do you know that character that is so charismatic and funny but actually has so much fucking trauma? That's him, daddy issues (because of abuse), from 1989, has a magical bag, so fucking british, so fucking protective of his friends it's insaneee like he will kill someone for them) and these two ghosts are detectives and solve cases to ghosts so they can move on to the afterlife.
This show is so fucking well written, you have no idea, like Charles and Edwin's relationship is so unique, because even though there is a romantic subtext they are best friends before eveything and they know eachother so well it's so rare to see such good friendship where they are so open with eachother in media specially between men (also their ship name is painland, if that's not enough reason to watch the show idk what is).
Another great example of the amazing writing is that characters like Charles normally have their trauma super overlooked, but in this show his trauma is treated so well, there is still a lot to work from it (reason 484837 why I need a season 2) but the other characters actually see his trauma and acknowledge it, it's so fucking satisfying to me because these type of characters are always my favourites but they always have that lack of development (I sometimes confuse between my mutuals who likes what but I'm pretty sure you have read hoo so you know Leo Valdez? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about).
Speaking of development, they do not leave characters behind. There is this character called Niko Sasaki, who is this girl who loves anime and loves love and is always so positive and so sweet and always thinking of others. Now, when someone describes this type of character, my first reaction is "oh, so she's just the comedic relief who is going to have a shallow ass personality" (no shade to that type of characters, shade to the writers who leave them behind), BUT SHE'S NOT. She also has her traumas (dead dad, literally almost dies, more shit that I don't wanna spoil) and they acknowledge it and they develop her. She may not be one of the main focuses of season 1 (I'm pretty sure if we get a season 2, she's gonna have more screen time because of... [spoilers]) but she still has some character development, in the 3rd episode they are solving a pretty brutal case and she says that she doesn't want to be part of it because she litterally almost died the previous week and it's totally okay, she stays at home watching scooby doo and eating noodles, again so fucking satisfying.
Since we're talking about Niko, I have to talk about the dynamics of this show because OMG THE DYNAMICS OF THIS SHOW. Like, you look at the way I described Niko and the way I described the boys and you would think that they would focus on Niko and Charles relationship, right? The two charismatic kids, makes sense. Wrong, it's actually Niko and Edwin's. At first, you're like "you're gonna pair Mr. Horrible at relationships with other people and hates physical touch with Ms. Loves love and hugs fucking everyone?" BUY IT WORKS, IT WORKS SO GODDAMN WELL, IT'S INSANE, they easily became my favourite dynamic of all times, it's so fucking good. Actually, Charles and Niko is the only dynamic that isn't really developed in this show (which is a crime honestly, how could they).
Another thing is that there is one (1) antagonist out of four who isn't likeable. And that fucker is litterally Crystal's abusive demon ex (I've realised now that I haven't talked about my queen yet, she's a bitch, she's a physic, she's fucking badass, she doesn't know who she is until the 8th episode (not in a philosophical way, she litterally loses her memory) and her dynamic with Edwin is fucking hilarious, it's an on going competion of who gets to be the bitcher). There is a witch who is immortal, kidnaps young girls to feed to her snake and has an obsession with getting revenge on the boys and Crystal (they hadn't met Niko when they confronted her for the first time), but she serves cunt everytime she's on screen and she's so hilarious, you love to hate her and deep down you also love her. There is a cat king who is the reason Crystal, Edwin and Charles get stuck in the town they spend the season (they live in London, the town is somewhere on the US coast, technically it's just Edwin who is stuck, but they're all ride or die) all because he wants to fuck Edwin but Edwin doesn't, but his hilarious and annoying in a funny way and a loser and a simp. There is a woman from the afterlife office who spends the whole season trying to catch the boys (who are running away from death, it's a whole thing), fails and ends up stuck with them, I just got mad at her when she interrupted a love confession, but we got it later so it's fine. Then there's David the demon (yes, that's his name, yes, that's hilarious) who is Crystal's abusive ex, is able to get inside her mind whenever he wants and is just so fucking annoying (but is such a great simbol of abusive relationships and how much they scare you even after it's over).
Also, no one, and I mean no one, in this fucking show is straight, whether it is confirmed or not it doesn't matter (although 4 of the nine recurent characters are canonically queer).
Don't know if you heard about it, but this is from the same universe as the show The Sandman and there are two cameos in this show (both Death and Despair get a scene).
There are two things that weren't perfect in this show: the fact that Charles and Niko got one (1) scene together (fucking crime) and the CGI, not that it's all bad it's just they focused on the more visual scenes that make you go uuhh and aaahhh but there is a roof where they sometimes talk where the CGI is so bad, but it's just background shit, do not decide not to watch because of it the only scenes like that are the roof scenes and a scene in the forest (again, background shit).
I did just spend around an hour writing all of this, you are not gonna read this whole ass essay, but just watch the show, it's on illegal sites Netflix (although if you have Netflix, put it, even if it's just background noise, we need the views, this is Netflix and a not that cheap queer show we're talking about)
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goatcheesecak3 · 2 days
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How about Adam x reader who were dating before the trap, maybe got into a fight, but Adam lives because that’s definitely what happened and they find each other.
Also ur NSFW hcs were good so feel free to sprinkle some spice if you see fit :)
Lost and found
Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x gn!reader
Fic type: angst, fluff
Warnings: missing person, medically induced coma
A/n: hello!! Thank you for your request, it was such a cute idea!! There's no nsfw because I couldn't find a way for it to fit into this story, but while we're on the topic I just wanna give a message to anyone who saw my Adam nsfw hcs!! I originally posted the unfinished version by accident, but I've gone back and added more to them since! So make sure you're all caught up on those, in my very biased opinion they're extremely canon teehee :^) all can be found in my masterlist as usual
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You and Adam had dated for two years before finally ending it about a month ago. The relationship was tumultuous to say the least, epic highs followed by epic lows. Being with Adam could be so wonderful at times, the way he kissed you like you were the only person in the world, the way he would have you folded in on yourself laughing. Your memory was filled with long nights spent talking and falling deeper and deeper in love. Adam was good with his words, which was a blessing and a curse- he could make your heart flutter just as easily as he could crush it. Arguments were frequent, and volatile, he always took things too far. Deciding that this was no way to live, with heavy hearts, the two of you called it quits.
You'd heard around from mutual acquaintances that he'd gotten into a pretty rough spot after the breakup, apparently he'd become some kind of stalker for hire? Like a private investigator but with absolutely no credentials or regard for his or anyone else's safety. It didn't exactly surprise you that he'd gone into a somewhat shady line of work, considering his lack of high school diploma there weren't really many options for him, you wished you could help, but you'd both agreed to keep your distance and move on.
One day however, you couldn't help but break the promise you'd made to yourself, and you asked about him. You'd run into his best friend, Scott at a video store, and despite all your restraint, the words tumbled out of your mouth:
"How's Adam been lately?"
"Pfft how should I know? I haven't spoken to that asshole since he totally bailed on my band photoshoot" Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes disinterestedly.
It wasn't like Adam to turn down paid work of any kind, so you decided to pry deeper,
"What do you mean? He just didn't show up?"
"Yeah, no call, no nothing. He hasn't spoken to anyone. Probably thinks he's too good for me and the guys now with his investigator bullshit, but lemme tell y-"
"Wait, he's actually doing that?! That's so dangerous, you don't think he's gotten himself into trouble do you?"
"I don't know, I got my own shit to worry about. Besides, no one bails on me and gets my sympathy. Scott Tibbs don't chase, baby." He said, all too loudly. You could practically see his ego bulging out of his head.
As you left the video store, the interaction played on your mind. After you and Adam had broken up, Scott was pretty much the only person in his life, and he didn't seem to give two hoots about Adam's wellbeing. Essentially, there wasn't a single person on earth who'd heard anything from Adam in the last week, and no one seemed to be trying to find him. You knew his family were estranged, and pretty much everyone else in his life were all acquaintances at best. If he was in trouble, it was up to you to help.
You headed to his apartment, just to see if he was home. Best case scenario he was, and you got some of your cds back, worst case.. well, you didn't wanna think about that.
You crept up the creaky mildewy staircase of his apartment complex until you reached his floor. Something in your gut felt wrong as you got closer to his door, something that you couldn't quite understand. It wasn't fear, it was overwhelming dread. You always thought there was a big difference between those two feelings; fear was wondering if something bad would happen, and dread was knowing in your heart that it would.
You knocked on his door and waited a beat. Nothing. For whatever reason, a voice in your head told you to try the door handle, and to your surprise, it was unlocked. Adam's apartment looked frozen in time, a half eaten bowl of mouldy noodles sat on his coffee table, an empty beer bottle next to it. Everything looked untouched. That was until your eyes made their way to the floor next to his closet- his camera. Smashed to pieces, and left strewn all over the floor. Your eyes darted up toward his redroom, which appeared to have been ransacked.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You repeated over and over in your head like a mantra.
Your first thought was that someone he'd been stalking had caught him, followed him home to destroy any damning evidence, then deal with Adam.
Panic set in at this moment, as you rushed through his apartment, desperately hoping he was just passed out somewhere.
"Adam?! Adam?!" You cried out, to no avail.
Of course, the second you had regained enough composure to remember to do so, you called the police and filed a missing person's report. The next few days were filled with police interviews, cutting out and sticking the few pictures of Adam you had onto missing person's posters and plastering them all over the city. You handed them out to anyone who would take them, you gave them to all the venues and corner shops that Adam often went to, and you hounded the police relentlessly.
Sure, Adam was your ex, but my god how you had loved him, how you still loved him. You were the only person in his life who loved him, and you refused to give up.
After 6 never ending days, your phone rang. It was a call from the police.
"We've found a young man fitting Adam's description on the outskirts of the city. He's currently in the hospital in a medically induced coma while the staff tend to his injuries. As he is unable to identify himself at this time, we would greatly appreciate it if you could come down and identify him for us" the voice from the phone said.
This was like music to your ears, you tried not to get your hopes up, but you just knew it was him. It had to be, you could feel it in your heart.
As you stood by the bed of the man, you fell to your knees and wept. He was far skinner, his skin pale and almost translucent, his hair tangled and dirty- but there was no doubt about it, that was your Adam.
"That's him! That's my baby! Oh my god, that's my Adam!" You sobbed, clutching into the police office for support. He looked happy for you.
...
After a few days, Adam woke up. He was by no means in good shape, but he was alert, he was safe, and he was asking for you. He'd had to speak to police before he could have any visitors, but they'd assured him that you had done a great deal to help them find him, and he was touched.
"I thought I was gonna die in that room.."
"You probably would have, if y/n hadn't tried to find you"
"No one else reported me?"
The cop shook his head solemnly.
"Damn... I gotta see her, i- I gotta thank her,  i-"
He rambled like this for a while, until he was assured that you were able to come visit him.
...
"Hey, sugar" Adam smiled cockily, despite how weak he was.
You approached the chair next to his bed and reached down to stroke his face lovingly.
"That didn't sound very ex boyfriend of you" You teased.
"Aw come onnnn, I nearly die and you still don't want me back?" He whined, giving you a playful pout.
You chuckled and kissed his forehead,
"I basically saved your life, don't get greedy"
Adam's eyes narrowed, and he looked uncertain, "wait.. are you saying you actually don't wanna get back together?"
You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek,
"Of course not dummy, I just like watching you squirm"
Adam mustered all of his strength to lift his arms and place his hands on your cheeks, pulling your face towards his.
"You're such a bitch" he mumbled against your lips with a smile
"You're a bitch" you giggled back.
The playful teasing went on for a while, until you were sat in a love filled silence, just holding eachother's hands. Adam was the first to break the silence.
"I'm a changed man, you know, y/n"
"Huh?"
"While I was in that room, you were all I could think about. I kept thinking about all the times I hurt you and I knew I needed to make it right. I made a vow to myself that i was gonna get out of there, and I was gonna get you back... and I was gonna love you the way you deserve to be loved. I'm gonna do that, y/n. I'm gonna prove I deserve to be with you, even if it takes a lifetime... which it probably will now that you basically saved my life"
"Yeah, it's gonna be pretty difficult to level that playing field" you smiled jokingly.
"I mean it, y/n," Adam said, his voice serious, "I promise I'm going to devote the rest of my life to loving you, it's the least I could do".
And several happy years later, he's kept that promise.
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corollaservant · 5 hours
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Introspect // Dabi x f!reader (18+)
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Synopsis: The past never dies. But it can often be forgotten. (3.4k)
Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, captivity, stalking, violence, noncon/at best dubcon smut, jealousy, delusion, denial, implied PTSD, deterministic and nihilistic philosophical paradigm, Dabi's POV—stream of consciousness type fic
A/N: wrote this in 3hrs. majorly inspired by (and dedicated to) my fave tumblr writer, new magic wand by tyler the creator and this dabi art 🖤
Happy. You looked happy, that’s what he thought when he saw it.
Not in a way you’d been with him anyway. He didn’t know whether that was for the better. The first thing he thought was you posted him. Of course you would. He was not patched, burnt or looking like someone who escaped the psychiatric ward. Without proper clothing, jumping out of a window, frantically running towards the opposite direction. Was it a matter of appearance? Or did you just not like him enough? He wouldn’t know, you hadn’t spoken in a month. And some days. That’s when you told him you needed space. Seriously, people needed to come up with better excuses, this one was over-saturated. Was it bad he clung onto you? It’s not like you had many friends, all he had asked was more of your time. Your stupid job wasn’t even that important—he never bothered finding out what you did exactly, it’s not like he didn’t care, he just wanted you there. The rest of your whereabouts were none of his business as long as you were not conversing (excessively) with anyone else. Because even then, why would you need to do that? He could do it for you.
He had no actual job, well, classifying as a villain doesn’t get you far in life, he called himself a freelancer. Freelancer in murder and theft, maybe. But he felt like he had a share in serving divine justice. A modern vigilante so to say. Any accidental death was a misfortune, a predetermined fate. He didn’t want to pretend to be integrated in society for you to like him, he was lucky because he didn’t have to. Which then reminded him of how he met you.  
Petting strays at night wasn’t careful of you, especially with the crime rates in the city. But you had done so regardless, he remembers it vividly: You in an alley, on your knees, not caring about the dirt coming in direct contact, extending your hand. The cat was barely visible, he could only make out its yellow eyes. But then, the cat saw him, he knew cats had brilliant vision and it left you, perhaps in thought he had food you didn’t. You turned your head only to take a step back. Not smart, you landed on your ass as you opened your mouth. Did he scare you? Of course, what a stupid thing to ask. Under other circumstances he’d leave. Making fun of strangers wasn’t really his thing, not unless they deserved it, but the cat seemed to take a liking to him. Animals loved him, his mom used to tell him not to trust people who repelled them, it was a bad sign. Animals had instinct, animals could tell. He decided to pet the little guy (or girl?), as he kneeled down and softly touched its head. That was another thing about cats. They didn’t give a fuck about the staples or burnt odor, they just wanted food and the occasional touch. He liked cats. He could see himself in them. Something in the domesticity of the situation must've calmed you down because you fixed your posture and to his surprise approached him. It was still dark, you were still a woman and alone in an alley. 
‘’He likes you.’’ You told him. Had you already figured out it was a male stray? Dabi must’ve underestimated you. Your voice hid a whine, a soft protest but it was not annoyance and he shifted his gaze.
‘’Yeah.’’ was all he said. 
‘’Can I?’’ You asked. Why were you asking for permission, this wasn’t even his cat. 
‘’Sure.’’
You were so close, trying not to scare the cat and also touch him, he noticed. Your finger tried to avoid his but the cat’s head was unfortunately not that big so you eventually grazed a digit over him. You hadn’t flinched back then, hadn’t even scrunched your nose, were you not afraid? Didn’t the smell and appearance repel you? Apparently not, you seemed so invested in getting the cat to like you. It wasn’t like it didn’t. The stray ended up loving you, purring at your touch and looking in your eyes, like a man in love. And maybe it wasn’t just the cat. 
-
Within three days of your first encounter he had you on his chest, in your apartment of course, where else could he have you? He wanted to fuck you the first time he saw you, but the urge wasn’t that violent, which had taken him by suprise. You also did not seem like the type to give it up easily. He’d have to do some mental jumping jacks to get you, he didn’t worry about revealing too much though; he didn't have a lot to say, his old identity long buried away with his sensitivity. He still didn’t feel like hurting you. The first night he told you his name, Dabi, and it was so convincing, he too had believed it. You exchanged trivial information neither cared about and he offered company on your way back. He scolded you for being alone in the neighborhood, like some good samaritan, he laughed as he guided you through dimly lit alleys with zero traffic. 
‘’Want to come inside?’’ You had asked. Already? Were you that easy? But who was he to say no?
Your place was small, as expected, neat and tidy, with a few clothes on the bed, nothing bad. It smelled nice too, he noticed a small plant on the coffee table. How gullible to let him in like that. Dabi imagined how many times you must’ve been wronged in life. But you being you—it was probably something that flew over your head daily. You’d call it compromise, he’d call it stupidity.
He had fucked you in missionary that night, a true gentleman, easing his way inside and slightly towering, making sure the stapled skin under his sternum didn’t touch your sensitive one. You were soaking by the time you stopped making out and he slid a finger inside, warm and enticing, his cock hardened in primal ways. He had softly thrown you on your bed (his definition of soft wasn’t exactly soft, you had let out a groan, was it bad?) and climbed on top. You were looking at him expectantly, your eyes glassy, was that pain or excitement, Dabi would bet bucks on the latter. The way you had shyly parted your legs, not for his cock, but to fit him in between was sickeningly pretty, he could swear he was almost…nervous to slip his cock inside. And he was right, trying to fit it inside failed him two or three times while he pretended to toy your clit with his cockhead. You didn’t seem to mind, his act must’ve been convincing, you were softly moaning and your eyes dared to look at the sight of his swollen tip against your lower lips, was it pretty? He had fucked you as hard as he would allow himself—your body could take it, he had to be honest, the more he stuffed you, the more he needed to drive his cock further into your soft walls, there was no room for play pretend romance here. But you seemed to like it too, wrapping your arms around the bare part of his back, fingers accidentally trailing the stapled skin and groaning near his face. ‘’Fuck.. right there.. D-Dabi! More!’’ More? Sure, you could have more. A patched arm strongly pinned a leg above your head, touching the bed frame, as his stiff and pained cock violated your cunt, he could feel how deep he was and constantly fought the urge to spill already. As for you? Tears from your eyes fell down your now stained sheets as you screamed. Pleasure, pain, honestly he didn’t care much about what it was, your pussy clamping down on him the last thing he felt before he bit down your neck, almost ripping out the skin tissue. His cum slowly trickled out, while both of you panted, each exhale synchronizing with the clock ticking in the kitchen. 
There were no voids you could fill, he knew it, interacting with others proved to be a daily reminder. But there were voids you soothed, pain you healed just with your head resting where a heart used to be. Heart beating irregularly, like his feet in his childhood, with excitement, with a different type of eagerness. These weren’t thoughts he made that night and that’s how he knew he liked you. That night his mind was blank for the very first time, carefree from reality, from the ugliness of living—you had sex with some stained villain, who hadn’t only stained your cunt, but your sheets too, your morals indirectly and heart along the way. These thoughts came to him when he saw the photo. Space. You said you needed space. There wasn’t any relationship established, what the fuck you needed space for? Because now, he had found something to give waking up a reason. Someone to regularly satisfy his cock with, someone to take away his thoughts and halt his aimless wandering. And you needed space. How lame. You know what? He could give you space. Indirectly of course. He’d still follow you around, check the whereabouts and conversations, sit outside your house and watch you get undressed. But you looked happy. And he couldn’t decipher in what way. Was he a friend? Who gives a fuck about the guy anyway, why were you smiling like that? You never posted him, that's for sure, you knew in the three months of irregular hanging out (to call it dating would be a joke) that he hated it. And so you never did, even though he wanted you to deep down. Something small. A grocery store visit, one you made when he said he’d cook dinner (he had burnt it). But you never did and now here you are posting with someone irrelevant. 
Murder wasn’t the answer. Stupidly enough it was always associated with morality. But you’d think Dabi would have none of that. He thought murder was stupid. No second of his time ought to be wasted for the next guy. Though he had to admit, he often contemplated whether you’d want this. You didn’t know shit about him. But a sudden murder would definitely have you crawling for protection. And who better than the one who committed it? He honestly wouldn’t go out of his way to do all that. He wanted you organically. It had been a long time since he wanted someone. But you sufficed. You were enough. You never asked, never complained, not even when you’d come home from work, exhausted and dirty and he was waiting at your door. Not even when you were shoved against the cupboards and fucked without remorse—you still wrapped your legs around him and whimpered on his neck. And fuck if that didn’t feel good. He hugged you in your sleep. You’d both sleep in opposite directions, you first of course, so you’d never notice he switched sides and brought a leg over yours, resting his head on your throat, feeling each breath, each pulse. You’d wake up confused at the position, he’d say he didn’t remember. These were the few nights he could reach REM state. No vivid dreams of course, a shipwreck maybe and some elevator descending, lack of control or whatever bullshit he read once. He could still dream though, a miserable reminder he was still human. 
He was always mean. The world didn’t care to mold someone into being nice. What would that even be? He thought nice meant exchange. Be nice and you’d get a pair of shoes. Act nice and you’ll get to watch TV. Treat others with respect and you’d be the family’s topic of discussion over Christmas. Sure, there were selfless people, he wasn’t crazy to think there weren’t a few of them left. You’d be his prime example. And you weren’t even stupid. But your willingness to help and give bordered exploitation. It hit him like lightning. You needed to get away, the real world was doing damage to people like you. If you were with him, you wouldn't have to think twice about being taken advantage of. He’d still be mean, you wouldn’t change that. But at least you’d sleep assured knowing that he’d never, ever demand something from you. Well…besides your presence, though he’d take you as you are, so in retrospect you’d come to appreciate him for the service. 
When he came to pick you up (abduct sounded rough—you’d also want this eventually) you had just finished work. To others you seemed fine, to him you looked exhausted. No need for mask, no need for clothes, he had everything arranged. You hadn’t objected much, he tried the kind approach first, he had only asked you to go for a ride with him in a car he stole, something you’d never know. The place was a dump, a couch covered in dust and a rusty kitchen, but you’d both make it work. It wasn’t like he couldn’t find money. He would, eventually. He remembers the way your eyes widened, what were you expecting, a trip to the countryside for some mimosas? You should’ve known better. ‘’What are we doing here?’’ You had asked, looking him in the eyes, you seemed frightened like the first time you saw him in the alley, it all ends in the beginning of the cycle, such a paradox, he thought. ‘’This is our new place.’’ He cooed as he approached you, you took a step back. There really was no reason for you to be scared, you’d grow to understand the only thing scaring you would be losing him. 
He had tried to kiss you but you protested, pushing him away, a shame really and he wanted to continue with the nice approach. Well, then again nice didn’t really exist so it wouldn't have worked anyway. He kissed you, your mouth was closed but not for long before it was forced open, arms snaking around your waist and pinning you to a wall collecting condensation since god knows when. He was on your neck, kissing, biting, frenzied moves really, he needed you more than he needed whatever kept him alive. Three months ago, he stopped thinking. Now, the only thing he thought was you. He dragged you to the dusty sofa, he thought of using his quirk to burn the fabric, but ripping it out came naturally. You were laid out naked and shivering, his hands grabbed your waist—was this warm enough for you? You whispered something, maybe it was louder than a whisper, stop or whatever but he couldn’t listen. He found your cunt immediately, he was almost drooling at the sight, when was he that hungry ever again? Something about your life. People behind. You said something, he didn’t listen. You weren’t that wet like the first time, he understood. Women, they need emotional connection. Maybe a sloppier kiss to get them going. He found your mouth again, forcing you to kiss him back while he gorged on yours, a small movement in your hips, a pad of his finger back on your cunt. Wetter, perfect. He slid up a finger, curling it while his thumb grazed over your clit, you whimpered. That was a sound he could finally register. He’d bring back that smile, but it’d be for him only. One finger turned to two and eventually three, he needed to stretch you out to take him, nothing had changed since the first time, just his eagerness. His cock throbbed in his black pants, he wanted to taste you. 
You moaned and attempted to touch his hair. He didn’t mind but this wasn’t the time. He moved his head lower, spreading your thighs open and spitting on your clit. Spittle dripped down your slit and his index finger trailed it along the entrance, earning him a moan. See, you already enjoyed this too much. This would be your life now on, he’d fuck you till you wouldn’t want another thing. Captivity had a good side after all. He’d treat you so well, he wouldn’t even have to force all that domestic bullshit on you. You’d do it willingly. He eats your cunt out like it's the most sacred meal, sloppily and without coordination, pushing his tongue inside and gripping your thighs forcefully and what is this? You buck your hips up, wanting more, needy little slut. Perfect, so perfect for making him stop thinking. Making him forget. His cock must leak precum, it feels uncomfortable and he wants you to coat his tongue, he really does, but please understand, he needs you. Now. To bother removing his pants fully would be hilarious, he has neither time nor desire to do so, they’re slid down half way, his cock jumps on his abdomen and he gives it an impatient stroke—looking at you always. Let me go. You say, what? Were you stupid? Right before the best part? Right before the start of a new life? Of a life you should be living years ago? Delusional, you’re delusional. ‘’You love me, baby.’’ He tells you and lets his cockhead slip in your entrance, bit by bit until he’s bottomed out and you wince, he doesn’t move just for a second, this should be enough and then starts thrusting without consideration. Like it’s an incentive, like you’re a hole that needs filling, a mere means to an end. You protest a bit more, if you get louder he might have to get violent on you, please understand he doesn’t want this. You’ll get it, eventually. He can’t decipher the look on your face, it certainly doesn’t scream happy like in the photo. 
And then he’s reminded of the photo and a rage is born. ‘’Did he fuck you this well?’’ He spears his cock inside, you are hitting against the arm of the couch, your mouth contracts and you dampen his cock, so he must be doing something right. ‘’Tell me, did he fuck this cunt?’’ He asks and you just moan—are you dumb? Why aren’t you answering? His arms envelop the throat, pressing on the carotid artery as your muffled moans get even more constricted, he spits on your face and demands an answer. Dirty. Slut. Dirty. ‘’N-o’’ comes out your mouth. He hadn’t tainted you? He hadn’t touched you. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He wipes the saliva off your cheeks, it’s so...wet? Are you crying? Why are you crying? He hates it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He kisses you while he plunges deeper, you groan and try to avoid him, stop doing this, you’re his now, it’s final. ‘’I’ll make you feel better, alright?’’ He breathes out, he knows you like his fingers, he knows. His thumb circles achingly, longingly even on your puffy clit while you clench around him, your breathing is labored, you have to cum—cum now! On his cock, show him how much you love him. A few more strokes and he has you clamping down, more tears, so many tears and you moan out his fake name, with anger maybe or an orgasm high, he can’t tell and he doesn’t care either, it’s enough. He needs to steal a kiss one last time and feel the way you squeeze and soak all around to let his load paint you white, maybe he is like a woman after all, longing for emotion, even when he has to fulfill plain instincts. You don’t talk after it, you don’t even blink, you aren’t passed out, are you? He wasn’t that hard, come on now. He has to remove himself, clean you up, the couch and he the least of his priorities. You need to get accustomed. You’ll love it. 
You never ask. About the photo. About your family. About anything prior. But that’s not something he dwells upon, he doesn’t like to look back. You still sleep next to him, well, there aren’t many other options available, yet you do. You still breathe softly in your sleep, he still hugs you from behind. You’ve become a sedative, a very much needed one. He dreams some days, an elevator falling, a shipwreck. Only, you’re there this time. 
The few days he remembers the dream, he appreciates the company. He can only hope you do, too. 
22 notes · View notes
elenadoeslife · 11 months
Text
your first love hits different
#another day another vent-in-the-tags post#i came across a picture of me and my fiest boyfriend of five years today. picture must've been 10 years old at this point#found many more pictures of him and us on my dad's old pc#i can just feel my body pull and heart ache when i look at him in the pictures#wondering what my life would've looked like if i hadn't broken things off between us#we tried to stay friends and a couple of months later we went for a drink. when daying goodbye he moved in to kiss me#i was hesitant and stepped away. he couldn't bare having me in his life while not being together so he cut off all contact#don't get me wrong in any of my thoughts- i love babe whole heartedly and he's the only man for me now and in my future#it's just that nagging feeling burried deep. the 'what if's. what if i felt more confident about my body back then?#what if i hadn't moved on so quickly? what if i had let him kiss me?#i tried texting him telling him i was approved for gbp surgery (i broke things off because i was very insecure about my body)#he congratulated me and sincerely wished me all the happiness in the world but also asked me not to contact him again after this#it's been 7-ish years but every now and then i wonder how he's doing and what he's up to#he doesn't really have social media apart from facebook (and that page is private) and i only stayed in touch with his former best friend#but i'm not gonna ask him because i know they haven't spoken in years either#i've had plenty more relationships after him but i rarely ever think about those guys#am i okay? is this normal? lol#i should get my head out of this rabbit hole asap#add: the picture is almost 15 years old lol. my math ain't mathing. we met in 2009. not that it's important#i think i just moved on too quickly and didn't allow myself time & space to grieve. that's why he keeps popping up in my thoughts now & then
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viovio · 2 years
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i once had someone ask me what my intrusive thoughts were and I'm gonna be honest patrick i am not telling you that
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astonmartinii · 2 months
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ice, ice baby (literally) | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x raikkonen!reader
the ice man may have never spoken, but his daughter never shuts the fuck up
based on the request from @blue-skyandstars
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, sebastianvettel and 783,409 others
yourusername: taking names and kicking asses (and getting all assignments in on time with an appropriate amount of ass licking)
view all comments
user1: i love how she is so clearly kimi's daughter
user2: the only two blondes that don't freak me out
user3: insert that paris hilton clip "can i have two more of these little blonde bitches?"
maxverstappen1: what's an appropriate amount of ass licking and can i demonstrate on you?
maxverstappen1: wait! who said that?
yourusername: in your dreams car boy
maxverstappen1: trust me i see you in my dreams all the time
yourusername: so that's why you're always in the shower when i call you in the morning....
user4: i'm new here, are they together?
yourusername: wouldn't you like to know weather boy
maxverstappen1: she's actually my sleep paralysis demon, sorry to say
user5: they're so unserious
kimiraikkonen: keep those studies up i'm paying the bills
yourusername: i promise to use my status as a nepo baby for good papa 🫡
kimiraikkonen: proud of you.
user6: we love a self aware girly
user7: the raikkonen household really is the best balance, a guy who acts like talking causes him physical pain and a girl who couldn't shut the fuck up if she tried
yourusername: no way i'd rather it be
charles_leclerc: how many versions of that shirt do you have?
yourusername: enough...
charles_leclerc: and i'm the one who is a threat to national security when i go shopping
yourusername: that trouser collection should get you on some sort of list
user8: all these f1 drivers in her likes and comments and she's not cuffed... why is she fumbling so bad
yourusername: am I fumbling or are THEY?
user9: expose the dms please
yourusername: that would not be pg13 soz!
maxverstappen1
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liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 1,094,556 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: oh look who decided to come back
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user10: max is so annoyed that she decided to go to school in the us that he makes all american fans lives hell by winning all the races
user11: so true of him
landonorris: matching books? you're such a simp
maxverstappen1: is a man forbidden to be in a book club? who backwards of you lando
yourusername: just because you can't read, don't take it out on us
landonorris: i can read!
yourusername: name the last book you read
yourusername: and that doesn't include searching your name on twitter
landonorris: can you go back already, you're so mean
yourusername: don't come for our two man book club if you can't handle the smoke
maxverstappen1: what she said
user12: i love how spring break starts and y/n doesn't even go to see her dad, straight to max
maxverstappen1: kimi is coming! i am NOT a bad friend who deprives y/n of her dad
user12: you're also scared of kimi
maxverstappen1: i'm also scared of kimi
danielricciardo: you're in my building and i don't get any baked goods... i see how it is
yourusername: as if max is allowed to eat them anyway they're for dad
danielricciardo: i promptly take back anything i've ever said
user13: max has got to be down bad to have that much baking equipment in his house when it's canon he can barely cook eggs
yourusername: if he wanted to he would
user14: is this confirmation?
yourusername: i hope those are paper straws you're grasping at
maxverstappen1: why wouldn't i make sure i have the equipment to get my worker bee to make me sweet treats (don't read that rupert)
user15: i'm on to you two ... there's something shady going on here
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sebastianvettel
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liked by kimiraikkonen, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,409 others
tagged: yourusername
sebastianvettel: she's too old, i miss when she was a nice and polite child
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user19: annual god father seb appearance
user20: y/n please work your magic to get him to a race this weekend
yourusername: i'm working on it! watch out for suzuka
user21: the people's princess truly
yourusername: rude! i am a very polite young woman 🙁
sebastianvettel: yes you are, but also when you were ten you didn't bother me with your love life
sebastianvettel: and you weren't so fussy with food
yourusername: I AM NOT FUSSY I JUST HAVE AN ACQUIRED TASTE
sebastianvettel: you asked me to uninvite lewis to our dinner plans because you "hate that quinoa shit, i'm hungry enough to kill a horse with my bare hands"
yourusername: and i'd say it again!
lewishamilton: first of all: rude. second of all: i knew there was a reason you and max get on so well - BLAND
maxverstappen1: just because my food doesn't turn my shit green or couldn't accidentally be sold in the rabbit section of the pet store doesn't make me BLAND
yourusername: i don't trust a man who makes non-alocholic tequila THE FACT IT GETS YOU DRUNK IS THE BEST PART OF THE TEQUILA ONLY WEIRDOS DRINK TEQUILA FOR THE TASTE
lewishamilton: gasp! you said you liked it!
yourusername: i try to be supportive okay :(
user22: well that was something
user23: max always coming to the rescue ... makes you think
charles_leclerc: i am sensing some blatant favouritism here
mickschumacher: i never get invited on baking weekends :(
yourusername: snooze you lose ladies
sebastianvettel: this is exactly what i mean y/n
yourusername: my bad! i'm sorry my god father loves me more than you :p get well soon
sebastianvettel: that's not-
charles_leclerc: consider yourself in beef
yourusername: it's on babe
user24: gosh i'm so confused WHO THE FUCK DO I WANT TO GET WITH HER
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, kimiraikkonen and 809,445 others
yourusername: boy, oh, boy am i ready to finish this semester
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user26: i see tulips i do deduce that they are from max verstappen 🤓👆
user27: i hate you invasive leeches (i believe this and it is now my personal headcanon)
maxverstappen1: SEAT BELT PLEASE
yourusername: i swear i did 😫
maxverstappen1: you need to protect the precious goods
landonorris: you never tell me that 🙁
maxverstappen1: you're not precious goods, hope this helps x
landonorris: i see how it is
yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game lando
user28: they've either got the single most flirtatious friendship ever to exist or they're together
user29: if they are just friends and those flowers are from her actual gf - i am not being dramatic but i would take a long walk off a short plank
user30: i feel like they'd be the ultimate cockblocks for each other 😭
kimiraikkonen: proud of you bub
yourusername: i am losing hair from academic stress i hope you're happy papa
kimiraikkonen: i am 👍🏻
yourusername: i am losing hair - LOSING HAIR THIS IS A BIG DEAL YOU PAY FOR MY APPOINTMENTS
kimiraikkonen: you need a college education so you're not wasting all of my money - i also pay your sorority dues so be nice to me
yourusername: i'm tired let me be the low effort nepo baby i am meant to be
user31: can kimi raikkonen pay for my hair appointments too?
jensonbutton: is that MY CAR?
yourusername: you put me on the insurance?
jensonbutton: yeah for when your car was in the shop - i thought shelby was still in my garage?
yourusername: not to victim blame but having so many cars you don't notice one is gone, that's on you
jensonbutton: @KIMIRAIKKONEN YOUR KID STOLE MY CAR
yourusername: britt gave me the keys !!!!!!
kimiraikkonen: you got duped by a 21 year old, that's not my fault
user32: kimi when y/n jokes about dropping out 🤨 kimi when y/n steals one of jenson's cars 🥹
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maxverstappen1
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liked by kimiraikkonen, landonorris and 2,305,689 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: ice, ice baby (except you're smoking hot)
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user35: WHOOP WHOOP LET'S FUCKING GO
user36: max already having the approval of kimi, that's my king
maxverstappen1: make no mistake i went to the raikkonen household with many offerings before i asked for his permission
user37: and if he had said no?
maxverstappen1: i would've asked y/n regardless 🫡
kimiraikkonen: 🤨
maxverstappen1: uh? i'm digging my own grave but i love your daughter so that's all the matters right? RIGHT?
kimiraikkonen: 🙄
maxverstappen1: WOULD IT KILL YOU TO USE THE KEYBOARD I'M HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN HERE
user38: the way max got given approval on live tv with more words than we've heard from kimi at any point in his career and he's still a shaking mess
user39: anxious girl representation
yourusername: you melted this icicle
maxverstappen1: eh i think you've always been a softy
charles_leclerc: like softserve ice cream? shop @lec now!
maxverstappen1: do you fucking mind?
yourusername: really? on the post of my boyfriend professing his love?
charles_leclerc: god forbid a guy chases the bag (also he called you smoking hot, that's hardly a profession of love)
maxverstappen1: you little rat
yourusername: lifetime supply of lec and a flavour named after us and consider yourself forgiven
charles_leclerc: i don't need your approval that much
yourusername: @kimiraikkonen @sebastianvettel you seeing this shit?
charles_leclerc: fine... weaponising your dad and god father is a low blow
yourusername: also! i love you baby - thank you for putting up with my constant yapping xx
maxverstappen1: i love you even more, i can't wait for you to finish college so i never have to share you ever again
kimiraikkonen: 🤨
maxverstappen1: AND YOUR LOVELY FAMILY
yourusername: they love you really maxy don't worry
yourusername
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liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 1.945,440 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: i'm so talented, i brought three more championships to the family without even getting into the car
view all comments
user40: okay idk why yall were shipping anyone else, i've seen one picture of them being cute and am sold
user41: i'm so convinced this happened cause max saw people were convinced she was with other people on the grid and he had to mark his territory
maxverstappen1: yes i was jealous but can you blame me? prettiest girl in the world actually wanted me back. i will not fumble this
user42: i need my man to be this down bad for me
kimiraikkonen: cute.
yourusername: thank you papa xxx
maxverstappen1: THANK YOU KIMI, LOVE YOU KIMI
yourusername: i think he gets it babe...
maxverstappen1: first time i've got a non-emoji answer, i will savour it
user43: oh my i love them your honour
sebastianvettel: happy for you guys, see you guys soon
yourusername: love you seb!
maxverstappen1: thanks for the vote of confidence seb
sebastianvettel: you may be a literal nightmare child, but you're our nightmare child now
kimiraikkonen: what he said
maxverstappen1: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (i am ignoring that you called me a nightmare child, i was 17 give me a break)
yourusername: you guys he's crying hahahahahah
maxverstappen1: i just love you guys (y/n more)
yourusername: i love you too xx
user44: so liked now we've got the relationship reveal... when do we get both y/n and kimi in the red bull garage
user45: lets up the stakes and get max, kimi and seb in the 24 hours of le mans
yourusername: oh now you've started it - he's already on the phone to adrian
maxverstappen1: am i the first nepotism boyfriend?
kimiraikkonen: you might be the favourite of the in-laws if you get me a le mans win
maxverstappen1: y/n is an only child? i'm the only in law?
kimiraikkonen: yes?
maxverstappen1: I'M ON THE PHONE TO ADRIAN
yourusername: did i just lose my boyf to my dad?
fin.
note: babe the writer's block is back. but i'm fighting it. hope yall enjoyed this!
3K notes · View notes
lvrxly · 7 months
Text
singledad!Ghost who lives next door with his little boy, he asks you to babysit constantly due to his job and constant busy schedule full of who knows what, he doesn't trust anyone else to know what his kid needs and likes since he grew up around you.
"Thanks again for this y/n, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.
He had a date scheduled tonight with a lady he met through his best friend, John MacTavish. You nod and wave Simon goodbye, shutting the door with a sigh as you put his son down and watch him run towards the corner you have filled with toys just for him. What the hell were you doing...
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
singledad!Ghost who has to let himself into your house at 10pm because you weren't answering the door. He got back later than expected but still, he expected you to be up. But he freezes at the door, the key still in the lock as he stares at your couch.
The door clicks open as Simon uses the key that was poorly hidden under your doormat. He's told you to change the location countless times but you don't listen, you never do. With a soft sigh he is about to speak but freezes as his eyes land on your couch.
There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.
Simon has been so dumb..You had been treating his son as your own all this time, and he never saw it. He also never had seen how much he loved how you looked with his son in your arms...
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
singledad!Ghost who drops his son off with his parents for the weekend, coming over to your house with a single rose and a bottle of champagne. It's not a date, he states, more of a friends hanging out without the ruckus of a little boy running around.
"No really, you're such a big help, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. And he loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he sits at your kitchen counter, twirling the rose between his fingertips. You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago that you've never used. You swear you still had them.
"It's no biggy. He's a good kid, a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.
"So I'm not considered a friend?" Simon says with a hurt tone, taking the mug with a raised brow and a laugh. He then looks down at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in black lettering on the front. His shoulders shake in silent laughter.
"Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering. You would be lying if you said you didn't have some questionable mug choices.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
a/n: kinda wanna turn this into a fic...should I?
EDIT: FIC HAS BEEN POSTED <33
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s1m0nth3swag · 2 months
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Francis Mosses x GN!Reader
AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.
The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.
The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.
Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.
A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?
Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.
You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.
"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.
Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.
"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.
When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.
Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.
Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
2K notes · View notes
aaagustd · 4 months
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for the night | min yoongi
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title: for the night
pairing: drug lord!min yoongi x waitress!(f)reader
genre/rating: angst, childhood best friends to strangers to friends??, unrequited love, valentine’s day au, smut, romance, 18+
summary: Yoongi lives a dangerous life. So why is he so afraid of you? 
warnings: idk what to say about these two, just a bunch of feelings (spoken & unspoken), light pining, pov switches,  mentions d*ath & grieving,  mentions dr*gs and violence, swearing, bl**d & injuries, p*stol wh*pping/ mild description of t*rture, crooked justice systems (it’s the wild wild west out there), mentions a robbery & a**ault (nothing involving the main story), mentions illnesses & health related topics, alcohol/drinking but no intoxication unless you count staring at yoongi for too long, black hair with the undercut yoongi, chains, rings, TATTOOS…. oh my !!!, yoongi has a gl*ck (a piece, that iron… whatever you wanna call it), everybody’s shipping these two but they’re just…yeah, eye f*cking from both parties, explicit content, the friend version of kiss & makeup??, dry h*mping, Dom!yoongi, yoongi getting head is a warning, protected s*x, gagging/deep throating, throat/face f*cking, hair pulling, crying, i’m sure yoongi has Sir kink hiding in there somewhere, manhandling, face slapping, yoongi’s fingers down your throat, missionary with your leg over yoongi’s shoulder, big d*ck!yoongi, his jewelry stays on bc why would it not?, cl*t stimulation, teasing, spitting, org*sm control, c*m shots, body worship, p*ssy eating, throat grabbing, i think that's all...
wc: 11.6k
release date: february 16, 2024; 10:15pm est
note: sorry i took forever. this is my first oneshot in a while so i apologize for mistakes. i'm just finding my footing in this writing thing again. thanks to @itaeewon for my banner and @cafekitsune who makes these pretty dividers. please follow both of them for cool graphics. anyway, happy late valentine's day. i love you guys.
masterlist | playlist | ao3 version
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“Enjoy the rest of your night… and be safe!”
As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 
You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.
It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 
You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.
You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 
“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.
He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 
You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.
A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 
The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.
Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.
You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 
One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.
As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.
“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”
She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 
“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.
Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.
You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.
“Did he stop by yet?”
And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.
Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 
Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.
You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.
It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.
If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.
You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.
Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.
…So you thought.
Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 
You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.
Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.
“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”
“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”
You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.
“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”
“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”
Your jaw drops. 
Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.
Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 
And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.
“Just get your ass out of here.”
You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 
You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”
Kaci then shakes her head. 
“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”
“Huh? What are you talking about—”
Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.
About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.
All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.
Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 
Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 
All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 
Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.
You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.
The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.
However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.
They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 
You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.
Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.
His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.
Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 
A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 
He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 
You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 
Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.
“Can he just bend us over already?”
You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.
“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.
You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.
Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.
“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.
“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”
The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.
“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.
“You know the alterations shop over there?” 
His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.
“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.
“Are you serious? That’s awful.”
“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.
Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”
He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.
“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”
“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.
“Sure, not a problem.”
With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.
“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 
“Yeah?”
“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”
“Is Hoseok out there?” 
You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?
“Yeah…he is—”
“Kay, bye!”
Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 
“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”
Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.
“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.
“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”
After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.
“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.
Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.
“How’s your dad?”
You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.
“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”
With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”
“Me too.”
Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.
“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 
You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 
You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 
You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.
After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.
“So how was your day?”
Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.
“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 
Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 
“This is all of it.”
Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.
“Just okay?” he quizzes. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”
He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 
Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”
You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.
“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.
“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”
“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”
“Yoongi, I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“I won’t,” you declare confidently.
“So you’re arguing with me?”
Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.
“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.
“I don’t see your car outside.”
“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”
After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.
“Um, do you mind—”
“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.
“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all, love.”
You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 
Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.
“Good?”
“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”
“Cool.”
Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 
He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.
Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.
“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.
Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.
You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 
If that’s possible.
“Cold? This is perfect weather.”
You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.
“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”
You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.
You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.
“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”
Oh.
You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.
When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.
“Thank you.”
“For?” he asks.
“Your car feels like heaven right now.”
Yoongi scoffs softly.
“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.
“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Not a problem, love.”
Fuck.
Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.
“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”
He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.
“Uh, what?”
“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”
Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.
“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.
You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.
“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”
You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.
“You alright?”
“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”
“Any plans tonight?”
You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.
“You bet.”
Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”
“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”
“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”
You give him a look. 
“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”
“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.
“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”
“That is true.”
Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 
As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 
But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.
You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.
“What happened to the garden?”
You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 
As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.
“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.
You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.
“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”
“I forgot!”
“You always do,” he mumbles.
You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.
As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.
Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.
Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 
You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 
Your best friend.
“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”
Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.
Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”
Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 
Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”
You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.
“There’s no need,” he assures. 
Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.
Foolish.
“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."
“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”
You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 
“You'll call me if you need me, right?”
If you need him… 
You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?
You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 
Just not right now.
“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”
You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 
Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 
A part of you wishes that he did. 
But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 
Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 
Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 
You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.
You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.
Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.
You should treat yourself; you deserve it.
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“Get your sorry ass up.”
Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.
But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.
Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?
He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?
He ruined it.
He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 
That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.
If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 
He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 
There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 
The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.
“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”
Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.
This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.
“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”
Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.
“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”
“I—”
Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.
“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”
The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 
Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 
That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.
“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”
Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 
“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.
“You got that.”
He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.
After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.
“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”
Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”
Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.
“It’s not too late, you know.”
“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”
Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 
He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.
Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.
“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.
“Who?”
“You want me to say her name out here?”
Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.
Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.
He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.
You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.
“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”
Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”
“And you said no? Dude, no way.”
Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 
“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.
“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”
Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 
“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 
“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”
With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.
“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”
When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.
“You said you needed me,” he whispers.
All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.
It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?
Just like you used to.
Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.
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No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 
That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.
You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 
You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.
“Yoongi?” you whisper.
Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 
Your dad would be devastated. 
Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”
“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”
Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.
“Were you fighting?” you quiz.
“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”
Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”
“Yeah,” he confirms. 
“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”
You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?
“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.
You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.
“What are you doing—”
“I’m listening.”
“What?”
You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.
“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Yoongi?”
You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.
“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”
Oh. So he remembers that.
“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.
“So now I’m water under the bridge?”
“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”
“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”
“Yoongi…”
“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”
“I don’t,” you admit.
This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 
It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.
Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.
You open the door again, and step to the side. 
“Come in. It’s cold.”
This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 
Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.
You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.
“You can sit here.”
“Thanks,” he replies.
Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.
Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.
There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.
So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 
“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.
Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.
“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”
“...Was confused,” you add. 
You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.
“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”
You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.
“...My pussy was throbbing.”
Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.
“Huh-What?”
You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”
“Deflower you? The fuck?”
Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.
“Well, it’s true!”
“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.
“And you’re still stubborn.”
Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.
You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 
Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.
You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.
“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.
“You know you want to. Come here.”
Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.
“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.
You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.
“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.
“Fine…”
Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.
“What are you doing?” 
You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”
Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 
You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”
“A little, but…”
“But what?”
“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.
His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?
“Maybe…”
You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.
“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.
You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 
Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.
“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”
“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”
You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”
“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”
You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.
“Hold on.”
Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.
“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”
With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.
“Follow me…”
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“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 
You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 
Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.
You have all night.
When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.
“Change your mind?” he quizzes.
You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 
As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.
“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 
Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.
“I can tell,” he scoffs.
You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 
Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.
While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.
No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.
“Ahh, fuck.”
If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 
You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.
“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 
His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 
When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.
He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 
Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 
Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.
“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”
“Thank you—”
Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.
“But is that what I told you to do?”
You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.
“No, use your fucking mouth.”
When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.
“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”
“I do,” you croak around his digits.
“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”
Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.
In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.
“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.
You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.
“No way.”
“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”
“And I’m not glass.”
Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.
“Come here.”
He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 
You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.
“Yoongi!”
“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”
With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.
You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 
“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”
Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.
“Damn, it’s wet.”
He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.
“Please stop teasing,” you beg.
Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”
“Because—”
You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.
“Oh my god.”
Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 
You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 
Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.
“Good now?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 
You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 
You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.
“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.
You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.
“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.
You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.
A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.
“Answer me.”
This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”
“Hm. So you just do what you want?”
The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.
“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”
“Oh, you will,” he promises.
Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.
“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”
“What?” you shriek. “No!”
His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.
“Uh-uh.” 
He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.
“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”
“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”
You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 
You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.
“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”
Fuck.
“I am.”
He chuckles. “I know.”
Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 
He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.
“You’re mine, right?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Good... Now open.”
Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.
Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.
“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.
Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You too, Yoongi.”
You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.
“More, please.”
“More?”
“Please…”
“I got you,” he assures.
Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 
“Cumming!”
You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.
Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.
Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.
You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.
“Yoongi?”
“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.
You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.
“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”
“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.
Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.
“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.
Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.
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“I’m so fucking stupid.”
You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—
Or you can ask Yoongi.
With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.
Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.
Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.
Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.
6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 
7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux
You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 
7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.
7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis
“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.
Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.
“Hello?”
It’s Yoongi.
“Hey, what’s up?”
You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.
“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”
“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”
“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”
“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”
“What?!”
Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”
If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.
“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.
“Yeah, anything.”
“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 
You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 
“I know you’re already late so…”
“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”
“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”
“That works.”
Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.
“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”
Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”
“Kay. Bye then.”
“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.
“Yeah?”
“Still mine?”
A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.
But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?
“Maybe,” you tease.
There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.
“You still haven’t learned, have you?”
You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”
“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”
Shit.
If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.
No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.
“I guess you are.”
“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.
You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
“Good. Neither am I.”
He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 
As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.
You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.
Isn’t that what friends are for?
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hope everyone enjoyed !!! let me know what you think !
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steveslevis · 1 month
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i love you, it’s ruining my life
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azriel x cassian’s sister!reader - part 1 of 3
summary: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be your brother’s best friend’s mate, especially when that best friend is the same male who’s acted like you don’t exist for the last two centuries.
warnings: angst, very brief mentions of violence and abuse, azriel is oblivious and reader is angry, not much pining in this part mainly just angsty
A single band of golden thread, stretched from your soul, reaching out into an abyss. There was seemingly no end to the thread, no definite stop, just a shadowy mess that sent the thread into a disarray as it reached for your mate. 
Your mate. The male who had spoken maybe a full sentence to you a handful of times in the last few centuries. The male who was best friends with your brother, and acted as if you didn’t even exist.
Even in your younger years in Windhaven, it seemed Azriel didn’t even know you were there. Like you were a ghost, invisible to him in every sense of the word. 
Azriel didn’t ever really speak to anyone, though, so it wasn’t like you were an exception, he treated you like most everyone else. But you never had been able to shake the fact that he would nearly sprint out of a room if you were the only one in it, or that he would refuse to look you in the eyes when you spoke at dinner. It was like he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same vicinity of you, like he couldn’t stomach talking to you. 
And you were now bound to him, for the rest of eternity.
The bond had snapped for you immediately upon seeing the state of Azriel when they returned from Hybern without Feyre, when the entirety of their plan had gone up in flames, with Azriel in the main path of destruction. 
Seeing him in so much pain tugged at your heart, nearly ripping it out of your chest when you saw how ruined his wings were. It affected you so much that you ran out of the room when they first arrived, partially because of how much it hurt you to see him like that, and partially because of how distraught the bond snapping into place had immediately made you feel. You couldn’t bear to see your mate in so much pain, and you knew you didn’t trust yourself to be around when they inevitably put him into more pain while healing him. 
You kept to yourself for weeks after their arrival, only speaking to Rhysand and your brother when need be. 
Rhys was the first one to find out about your dilemma.
He called you into his study weeks later to talk about a mission, one he needed you specifically on for your daemati skills. While he explained the details, he could tell your mind was elsewhere, so much so that you couldn’t even stop him from getting past the pure obsidian wall you’d built up in your mind, the wall you never let anyone break down until that moment. 
Rhysand had given you a hesitant look when he stopped explaining the tasks in order to peer into your mind and capture your attention. He didn’t want to pry, only to get your mind focused by scaling his talon down the obsidian wall, which to his surprise collapsed before he could even attempt to breach it. But you nodded when he silently asked to see what had been keeping you so on edge, what had stopped you from helping Madja out with taking care of Azriel when they returned from Hybern, what had stopped you from engaging in conversation at dinner as of late.
A vision of a golden thread shrouded in black and gray shadows was sent to Rhys’ mind, along with a memory of exactly the moment you had been struck with the bond. 
“Have you told him?” he implored, though he seemed to already know the answer. 
You couldn’t even speak at that point, only shaking your head in response as tears brimmed your eyes when you thought of how fucked up it was to be bonded to someone who’d barely acknowledged you in the hundreds of years you’d known him. 
Rhys gave you a sympathetic look then, knowing the feeling of an unrequited bond all too well. 
You promised him about a thousand times that you wouldn’t let him find out, that you wouldn’t let the agony and sadness get in the way of the mission. You could prove yourself worthy and able to go on without thinking about how you might never get an accepted bond, you assured him that you could. He was still unsure when he agreed to let you go on the mission, but it was miniscule enough that any lapses in judgment wouldn’t be detrimental, so he agreed.
And you proved yourself, just like you said you would. You proved yourself over and over again with Rhysand’s missions, building up your mental shields stronger than they ever had been before. So strong, that the High Lord himself had a hard time cracking through them. 
You became a shell of what you were before seeing your mate in that near-death state, but you didn’t care. You needed to distract yourself in any way, shape or form that you could in order to forget about him, to forget that he’d never even taken a second glance in your direction. 
It got to the point where you became so shut off from reality that even Cassian, your brother known for paying no mind to female emotions, started to notice. 
You caught Cassian giving you inquisitive stares a handful of times during training and at dinners when your attitude was exceptionally reserved and demure, but never thought he would actually say anything to you. 
That was until he finally snapped, on the first dinner with Feyre back in Velaris, which just so happened to be the first dinner that Azriel joined in the weeks after Hybern.
You nearly fell out of your seat when you saw him in all his glory. There he was, standing at the end of the table, as beautiful as ever. He was almost fully healed, aside from a few scars littered over the membrane of his wings. 
Excited chatter filled the room as he entered, everyone falling into their rightful place in the Inner Circle, along with the newest members, Nesta and Elain. Though you were one of the longest standing members of Rhysand’s Inner Circle, you felt the most out of place in that moment.
The wine you’d been sipping churned in your stomach as you eyed the shadowsinger, who was sitting quietly across the table from you. You couldn’t handle it, knowing that he was your mate and he had no clue. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him finding out, of him potentially rejecting the bond. 
After a moment of silently wallowing in your self pity, you felt that familiar talon scrape along your mental shield. Rhys was requesting access to your mind, likely to give you some insight about this unrequited feeling based on his own experience. 
You rejected his request instead of letting him in, shooting him a quick glance before standing up abruptly, quietly excusing yourself with the reasoning that you weren’t feeling well. 
You rushed up the stairs, toward your bedroom all the while feeling like you were drowning. You needed air, fresh air, now. It was in that moment that you thanked the Cauldron for Rhysand putting you in the bedroom with a large balcony, one perfect for moments like this. 
Little did you know, your brother had stalked up the stairs behind you, worried after seeing the panic-stricken look on your face before bolting from the room.
You didn’t bother to close your bedroom door behind you, leaving Cassian the perfect opportunity to come in to check on you. You were out on the balcony in an instant, nearly gasping for air as the cool night breeze hit your face. 
“Hey,” Cassian called behind you, standing awkwardly in the middle of your bedroom. “You alright?”
“I don’t want to talk right now, Cass.” you retort quickly, shooting a glare in his direction before leaning over the metal railing as he furrows his brow. “I obviously don’t feel great at the moment.”
“Yeah, no shit. But that doesn’t warrant you snapping at me when all I’m doing is coming to check on you,” he presses, taking a step onto the balcony to stand by you. “It doesn’t warrant you ignoring me for fucking weeks now.” 
“What do you want me to say, Cassian?” you snap, throwing your hands up in defeat. “I—I don’t really know what kind of explanation you need from me, I just haven’t been in a talking mood these last few weeks.”
“Oh, bullshit.” he says, shaking his head at you. “I see you chatting with Rhys and Mor all the fucking time. You’re only shutting me out. What the fuck did I do?”
You take a moment to look up at your brother, finally seeing the hurt sketched across his features as he pleads with you, trying desperately to get through to you. 
“You didn’t do anything.” you sigh, letting your guard down as you realize how much you’d hurt your twin in the last few weeks. “I—I just am going through some shit right now.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” he says, nudging your arm with his elbow as a relieved but hesitant smile passes over his face. “I’m always here to lend an ear.”
“Are you sure?” you say, voice cracking as you internally accept that you’re about to change everything in Cassian’s life with four simple words. 
“Positive.” Cassian says, smile still on his face as he grips your shoulder to reassure you.
“Azriel is my mate.” you say bluntly, watching in silent terror as your brother’s face falls and so does his hand from your shoulder. “And he has no idea.”
——————————————————————
That was almost two years ago. 
Cassian took the news quite well, and became your biggest supporter when it came to dealing with the hardships of an unrequited mating bond. Even as he dealt with his own unrequited bond for a short amount of time, he still made sure to make it known that he still cared for and understood the pain you were going through. 
And now that the war against Hybern had been won, you could focus all your energy into training and missions Rhys would send you on. 
Rhysand knew you preferred to be sent on solo missions, that you worked better alone without anyone disrupting your focus. But, there were some missions that couldn’t be done alone. 
“You–This is a joke, right?” you say with a laugh, narrowing your eyes at the High Lord who sat across the desk in his office, raising his eyebrow at you as you laugh. “I work alone, Rhys.”
“I know you work best alone, but sometimes I can’t send you alone,” Rhys starts, giving you a sharp glare as you start to stand from your chair, “I can’t send you alone, not on this one.” 
“Why?” you pressed, pushing off the arms of your chair to move closer to the desk. “You haven’t even told me what I’m doing or where I’ll be going yet, so why should I even agree to it without knowing?”
The look the High Lord was giving you made you uneasy, turning your stomach in knots, but you persisted. You needed him to stop treating you like you were made of glass, like you would break, like you hadn’t been training with Cassian since you could stand. 
“I’m not a child anymore, Rhys.” you snapped, hands balling into fists as they pressed against the oak of his large desk. “I can handle whatever it is, without Azriel babysitting me.”
“I really don’t know–”
“Are you trying to torture me?” you interject, a pained expression crossing over your face, one of betrayal at the feeling of one of your longest friends trying to put you in such an uncomfortable position when he knows exactly what you’ve been dealing with over the last two years. “Are you trying to make me suffer, do you want me to –”
“I need you to go to Windhaven.” Rhys finally commanded, voice wavering slightly as he brought up the place you once called home, the place he knew would send you regressing into a lesser version of yourself. “I need you to go there, with Azriel.”
The mention of Windhaven sent a shiver down your spine, wings twitching in fear as you thought about the horrors you endured in your final years at the camp. Your sharp gaze flickered for a split second, mind running back to that cabin, to the flash of wings and clawing hands, to the male who did irreparable damage to your soul, to the moment you swore you’d never let a male hurt you again. With a shake of your head, you block the thoughts out, pressing that black obsidian wall back up to prevent yourself from breaking. 
“I’ll be fine on my own.” you say, putting your stern persona back into place, trying to make it seem as though you’re unbothered. 
“I need to send him with you, someone needs to watch your back.” he insists while shaking his head as his gaze softens, trying to get you to break from your hardened facade. 
“What about Cass?” you retort, shaking your head.
“He’ll be in Spring, he’s got business with Tamlin and Eris to attend to for me.” he quickly replies, shaking his own head. “Please, I need you to do this.” 
“I–I can’t.”
“Is the thought of being alone with me for two days that bad?” a voice comes from behind you, nearly making you jump out of your skin.
Your mate, just the person you didn’t want to see right now. 
You whip around quickly at the sound of his voice, brow furrowed as you see him standing in the doorway. It takes everything in you not to sigh at the sight of him, at how damn good he looked, just standing there. You cursed yourself internally, wishing you could think about anything else besides how much you pined for him. Still, you had an image to uphold, an image of distaste for the beautiful shadowsinger standing in front of you.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, shadowsinger.” you snap, shooting a glare in his direction that sends a pang of guilt running down the one-sided bond. 
“I’m sorry?” he questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his face the poster child for cool composure as your rage boils in front of him. 
“You can barely stand to be in the same room for me for more than five minutes,” you state, crossing your arms matter-of-factly. “You quite literally leave any space in the house when I’m the only other person around.”
The thought of your mate, the one who was supposed to be at your side for all of eternity, leaving the room any time you entered made your blood boil and chest ache. You ached for him, you ached to feel his touch, to be loved by him. But he didn’t care about you, didn’t care if you lived or died. 
Seeing the anger in your eyes made Azriel stop in his tracks, something unfamiliar tugging at his heart as you seethed. There was a gnawing feeling in his chest as he thought about the last five hundred years, how he never paid you any mind. 
The truth was, he avoided you with every bit of willpower he had in order to restrain himself. He couldn’t be around you for more than a few moments without your overpowering scent filling his nose feeding his desire to tear you apart. Every time he was with you alone, he wanted to tear down any walls that he had and just have at you, to have you as his. He wanted you carnally, he wanted all of you, all of the time.
But that wasn’t the kind of male he was. He would never do such a thing to Cassian, his best friend. He couldn’t let himself have you just to fulfill his deepest desires, you deserved so much more than to be some one night fling. You deserved to be loved and cared for, to be protected at all costs. 
So he had ignored you, for almost five fucking centuries, because he thought he couldn’t give you what you deserved. He pushed out any thought he had about you, pushed away the urge to pursue you in any way, and pushed you away in the process. He knew you well from watching from afar, but to you it seemed as though you were the last thought in his mind, when in reality, you were the only thought in his mind at all times. 
“That’s not–” Azriel started, but the words fell on his lips as he watched your own pull into a frown, an expression that was much more broken than the anger that had crossed over your face when he snuck in. 
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought, you prick.” you said weakly, finally letting your emotions get the better of you. As tears pricked your eyes, you turned to Rhys once more. “I will not be going anywhere with him. I will be going by myself, or not at all. I am strong enough to do this on my own and I’m tired of being treated like a child in this court.” 
Rhys only stared at you as you stalked towards the desk once again, watching as your hands shook with pain. He showed no change in emotion as you spoke, fully in High Lord mode instead of the Rhysand you knew and loved. 
“I will be in my room, packing. When you’re done being a stubborn male and realize that I can do whatever the hell it is you need me to do, I’ll be waiting for further instructions.” you state, trying to choke back the tears that are threatening to flow onto the wood in front of your hands. 
The High Lord nods firmly in response, and you turn on your heels. Azriel is still standing in the doorway, but you don’t dare to look at him. You push past the shadowsinger, swiping your cheeks hastily as tears fall down them. As you pass, your wing brushes his in the lightest of touches. You swallow a gasp as they touch, a shockwave flowing through your wing and going straight to your heart. 
Azriel turns to gaze at you with wide eyes and you immediately know he felt it too. He felt the shock, the electricity between your wings, but not in the way you did. Not down the one-sided, golden bond that stretched toward him. 
Confusion spread over his face as he looked at you, but you turned away and rushed towards your room before he could fully process what happened. 
The rest of your afternoon was spent alone in your room, laying on your bed for most of the night as you stared up at the ceiling. You cursed yourself internally over and over again, wishing there were some way to change everything, some way to make you forget that you even had a mate. 
Over and over again, you told yourself how you weren’t worthy of the immeasurable love that came with a mate, how you would never be good enough for Azriel. 
It had always been like that for you, though. The feeling of inadequacy was a daily occurrence for you, it wasn’t a secret. Cassian knew it, and so did Rhysand, so you’re sure Azriel did too. You worked day in and day out trying to prove that you were worthy to your brother and the High Lord and everyone around you, regardless of the pain you put yourself in.
Rhysand knew you too well, and knew that you were all too serious about going on the mission by yourself, or at least without Azriel. After you left his office, he’d tried to speak to Cassian about accompanying you, but it was of no use, he was preoccupied. He didn’t want you to go by yourself, he knew you’d be scared just by being in Windhaven again, but he also knew that you being the one to go on this mission was the only hope. 
Your untraceable daemati skills were an impeccable weapon that couldn’t be replaced by Azriel’s shadows or Cassian’s brute force. Even the High Lord himself didn’t have daemati powers as stealthful as yours, so you were the best option when it came to figuring out who was trying to rebel. 
After much contemplation, Rhys eventually sent a concise and firm message to your mind.
I need you in Windhaven by dinner tonight, Devlon will be expecting you to be there. There are a few Illyrians that I need you to check in on while you’re there, Cass told me there are talks of rebellion led by Cormac and Bavlard. he explained, you should only need to be there for tonight to gather enough information, but plan to stay until tomorrow evening in case we need more intel. You’ll stay in the cabin as usual, I’ll be in contact regularly to check on you, since you’ll be on your own this time.
The last sentence had a smile flickering on your lips, happy that Rhysand was finally taking you seriously as a member of his Inner Circle and trusting you enough to send you on missions by yourself. Luckily, you were already packed so it didn’t take much for you to get ready to go. 
In less than an hour, you were dressed in your fighting leathers and on the balcony of your room. You waste no time in flying from the house, large wings spreading for the first time in what feels like forever as you make for the sky.
The breeze against your skin makes you sigh with joy, trying to enjoy the twinge of happiness that flying gives you as you make your way towards the place you once called home, the place you now call hell.
taglist: @paleidiot @tothestarsandwhateverend @impossibelle
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”why are you so good at that?”
his caress is gentle. tender, steady, secure; and practiced, you can tell, just from the instant relief you feel — the vivid care in how his fingertips smooth along your skin. 
suguru presses his thumbs into the bridge of your nose, right beneath your forehead, big palms cupping your face. they’re warm, calloused, but still somehow so soft — massaging you gently. the pads of his fingers trail upwards, rubbing soothing little circles against your temples. as if he’s memorized every patch of skin, seen the very inside of your skull. as if he knows exactly where to apply pressure to make the sharp jolts of pain go away. 
and it’s working. the room you’re in is dimly lit, illuminated only by the vermilion rays of the setting sun, bleeding in through the gap between the opened shoji screens. a faint, summery scent accompanies them; like burnt roses, or a salty ocean breeze, not enough to rouse the nausea in your throat. it’s quiet. all you can hear is the soft humming of your lover, and your own relieved breaths, pulled out by his skillful hands. his pointer fingers pinch between your brows, and another one follows. the sweetest little sigh. 
”am i?” his voice is soft, even more so than usual, as if the slightest noise could disrupt your peace. a smile is knit between the vowels. ”i’m glad.”
he sounds a little tired. it’s been a long day for both of you, so it’s no surprise. when you finally got back home, the inside of your skull was tormented by a persistent ache, and suguru was blinking with fatigue — though he still insisted on doing this. lying you down on his lap, like a fragile doll, crossing his legs to give you enough space to rest comfortably; the back of your head finding respite on his thigh, senses enveloped by the silk of his robes, smelling lightly of cherry blossoms and sandalwood. comfy.
and, after only a couple minutes of his loving treatment, the ache began to dull. sweet relief seeping into your nerves.
he reminds you to take deep breaths, watching intently as the contours of your face fall back into a state of tranquility. whenever he shifts, the tatami mats beneath him rustle, and your muddled mind sways like the rocking of a boat; slight, but still enough to coax a wince from out your throat, a tiny spark of pain blooming between your sinuses, followed by a murmured apology from the man above you. 
a hum buzzes in his throat. you hear it, eyes still shut, waiting for him to answer your question. and he does, of course — so weak to you, always, your voice the key to his locked-up heart.
”back in high school…” he starts, diligently continuing the facial massage, comforting circles rubbed into your skin. ”... my best friend got migraines often.” 
a soft groan slips from out your parted lips, when he pushes against a certain spot — locating the pressure points like brushing specks of dust from off his clothing. effortless. 
”ah,” you click your tongue, melting into his touch. turning into a boneless puddle, cradled in his lap, comfy as can be. ”your mysterious bestie, huh?”
it’s not the first you’ve heard of this best friend. suguru’s mentioned him before, though only in passing, in whispers, comments he hopes will sound absentminded. they never do — because suguru says the word friend like it’s a prayer. 
(that explains it, though. no wonder it feels so good; it is practiced. should you feel jealous?
well, maybe. but you mostly think it’s kind of sweet.)
before you can think of what you’re saying, the words have left your lips. they tumble out like little pizzicato drops, spoken casually, matter-of-factly. a tiny chirp of a thing.
”you must have loved him a lot.”
silence.
for just a moment, the thumbs pressing against your skin halt — just for a second, but enough to notice, and suddenly you feel a little like the air has been sucked out of the room.
even with your eyes closed, you know suguru’s smile is nowhere to be seen. 
it’s funny, how well you’ve come to know him. how you’ve learned to memorize every expression you’ve ever seen him make, any signs of distress or discomfort. he does this thing with his eyes, sometimes — a thin kind of concealment, when you shuffle a little too close for his comfort. figuratively speaking, because you’re almost certain he’d let you crawl under his skin if you asked. but sometimes you twist the key to his heart a little too abruptly, and his eyes of gold and ochre shift in the light, honey clogging the interior of his cornea. something sickly-sweet. something he’s kept locked up for a long time.
a nostalgia so palpable it breaks your heart just to look at it.
you don’t want to open your eyes. you don’t want to see the kind of face he’s making right now. you don’t want to know if he’s pursing his lips, or furrowing his brows, just because of your carelessly chosen words — you know his old best friend is a sensitive subject. gosh, you’re stupid. 
stupid, stupid, stupid.
(why can’t you ever just read the room?)
blindly, you stumble for something to say, parting your lips. desperate to change the topic, to save him from this suffocating silence.
— but then suguru breaks it.
”yeah.”
when your eyes flutter open, he’s looking out into the garden. watching the sun, as it sinks beneath the mountains, lips curved up into a small smile.
”i suppose i did.”
you take a moment to look at him. the bridge of his nose, the firm lines of his jaw — the slightest tremble of the muscle. and those eyes, set afire by the final rays of the setting sun, burned to ash. filled with… something. not regret.
just longing.
suddenly, the pads of his fingers are dancing along your skin again; gliding down to pinch your nose. it makes you yelp, a tiny squeak.
and then he’s looking at you. 
”but i love you more,” he croons, a little tilt of his head that make his bangs move like a black curtain. eyes swirling with humour, something syrupy and teasing, awfully fond. ”my little dove.”
before you know it, your cheeks are blossoming with warmth; the branches of your lips curling up into a shy smile. his attention is a little too much to bear, so you wriggle out of his grasp — turning around to press your face into his stomach. his sleeves cast a curtain around you, a protective veil, but it’s not long until you’re being coaxed back into your original position.
”ah ah,” he tuts, chiding you lovingly; a coo in the back of his throat. ”none of that. let me take care of you.”
all you can do is groan, meekly, squeezing your eyes shut. suguru only chuckles, cupping your cheeks and continuing to apply pressure on your forehead and nose, large warm palms against your chilled skin — unwilling to let you escape his pampering.
the sun sets eventually. but he keeps you on his lap until the headache has faded entirely, until your eyelids have dragged you into a deep slumber, until tiny snores are seeping from your parted lips. until the moon has pulled itself into the night sky above you.
somehow, even on the brink of exhaustion, you manage to feel his warm lips against your forehead; hear the muffled murmur against your skin.
”sweet dreams, my darling,” comes a whisper, deep and silky, coaxing you further into the cradle of sleep. his thumb smooths along your cheekbone, down to the curve of your jaw — a trail of warmth. ”come back to me soon, won’t you?”
he smiles. you feel it, that soft upward curve, a blissed out sensation drowning you in white noise. the space inside your mind is free of pain, filled only with thoughts of him, the lines of his fingers burning patterns into your skin. one final kiss pressed between your brows, and then he’s pulling away; curling his arms under your knees and hoisting you up. into his steady arms, his robes shielding you from the soft glow of the stars.
”… don’t dawdle in dreamland for too long.”
the whisper goes unheard. fast asleep, suguru can only gaze at you, drinking in the serenity on your features. trying not to remember a boy with blue eyes — the similar expression he wore once his migraines had begun to fade.
he shakes his head, and carries you towards the bedroom. safe and sound in his embrace.
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hor3nee · 2 months
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• Fatherhood •
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What kind of dads are the JJK men ?
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CW/TW: GN! Reader, Mentions of crappy parenting, BREIF mention of pregnancy in Geto's, (Lmk if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji x Reader
AN: Almost cried writing this the baby fever is going HARD rn dude. Headcanons !
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• Gojo •
Menace of a father, but in the good way! Gojo spends his years raising his kids as if he's their best friend, truly and genuinely treats his kids as equals and in a sweet way, allows his children to have complete trust in him. Because Gojo is quite childish himself, he loves playing with his kids, making a fool of himself, and indulging with them.
Has a bit of a bad side to this though, his lack of traditional discipline or making himself the 'adult' in the situation leads the kids to both be very spoiled and not really ever listen to him.
"Sweetheart, darling, my perfect angel, can you please go to bed?? pretty please! Help your old man here, please??"
"Nuh uh!" And with that bout of defiance, he's back to running up to you, like HE'S the child, begging for your help. Because it seems you're the only one who can get the kids in line, and you do.
Plays pranks and teases the hell out of his kids as they get older, always in a loving way of course, but nonetheless loves getting them flustered over his stupidity. Type of dad to do dumbass dances in the middle of a Walmart to embarrass his kids.
• Geto •
Geto is optimum of what it means to be a gentle parent. Cannot, for the life of him, bring it in himself to yell at his kids. He's so soft-spoken, never so much as raising his voice against his children. Geto has children who respond to his voice alone, because it's so lulling, he's familiarized them with it and made them feel safe with it.
Doesn't mean he can't discipline them, of course he can, and he does so extremely gracefully. Whenever you're on your last straw with the kids, fighting the urge to start scolding them and yell, he steps in, smoothly taking over and the kids instantly listen to him.
"We're your parents, honey, c'mon that's not very nice to say, is it? They carried you for 9 months you know. Say sorry." Like magic the kids shut up and come over to you apologizing while Geto stands back, calmly having fixed the situation with ease.
With everything Geto does, has done, experienced etc, he can sometimes feel conflicted. Geto knows what he is capable of, and what he has done, he's extremely self-aware even if he justifies it, and he can struggle to balance the weight of all of it while also remaining a dutiful father.
Despite it, he does wonders keeping it separate from what his children have to see or experience, teaches them respect and kindness and hopes they hold true to it.
• Nanami •
Not a single man on this list fathers as hard as Nanami fathers. He's built for it like no other. Nanami treats fatherhood with his all, he puts his all into it and makes damn certain he does right by it. Stern when necessary, sweet when needed, provides for his kids and refuses to miss any important milestone of theirs.
Nanami is a calm man but the second work starts piling potentially making him miss his kids school play or something he's arguing with his supervisors and ready to throw hands.
He keeps the drawings his kids make on his desk, alongside a photo of you and your kids. Literally just stares at it while working smiling, unable to wait till he's home with the kids. They are his pride and joy genuinely.
No matter how over-worked Nanami may be though, when he comes home you are basically on vacation. Insists you rest and he takes over literally everything involving the kids.
"Darling, darling no, I got this covered. You take rest. You know I love spending time with my kids." He says with an earnest smile, both kids in his beefy arms just dangling around and playing with their father. He's definitely exhausted from work, but that never stops him.
• Sukuna •
The King of the Curses, as cruel and terrifying as he is, taking pleasure in all sorts of sickness and treating love as pointless, legitimately likes his kid.
He doesn't care about fatherhood, or the responsibilities that being a parent entails, but it's nice having a mini version of himself around. That he likes. An extension of himself and you, it's nice to have around he doesn't mind it. He may act aloof about it, not outwardly showing affection like hugs or kisses, but he clearly enjoys it.
He gets a massive ego trip when his kids cause chaos and disturbances. Points at them laughing with his belly "See that? That's mine."
Sukuna never minces his words though, and his kids have to get used to his bluntness. Again, he doesn't care for the concept of 'parenting', and will in their face call the kid some extreme insults and weak and they have to learn to take it.
On the flip side, Sukuna also never minces his praise, and Sukuna has an abundance to give his kids. Every accomplishment or show of strength that they show he'll let them know he's proud. A good ol' fashioned fatherly slap to their shoulder while he praises them.
He treasures his children, and even if he doesn't put much effort into parenting them, you taking over most of it, he's definitely a present figure in their lives.
• Toji •
Went to get milk, hasn't been seen since.
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adventuringblind · 4 months
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He Must Be Lucky!
Max Verstappen x Reader
Genre: fluff and crack
Summary: Max gets wasted and can't remember that the reader is his wife. It's endearing how much he simps bith sober and drunk.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, a wild party (at least for Max), Max being down bad
Notes: This one is for @amajixi! I hope you like it! Does anybody wanna send me asks and talk about drivers with me? Give me your most feral thoughts because I'm genuinely curious... please >_< (I even turned my anonymous asks back on please just send me things).
Side note: my fics haven't been getting much traction as they usually do. Is it something on my end? Have y'all disappeared on me? I know I shouldn't care, but y'all are the only ones that validate my writing T_T
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Max has a track record of partying hard. It's who he is, and she lives him for it. There isn't any kind of gripe of hang-up, just Max having fun and doing dumb shit that makes her laugh.
Lando is throwing a - well - a party. There was an excuse for it in the invitation, but she's too buzzed to remember it.
The echoing sound of Max's laughter ricochets off the walls. Daniel is with him, probably getting them into more trouble, but she knows Daniel will look after him. At least until he's trashed and can't get off the floor.
Alex brings her another shot glass. She has no idea what's in it, but Alex is letting loose, and she'll be damned if she doesn't partake.
He raises the shot glass in a toast. "To whatever this party is!" He cheers. They clink their glasses together and down the shots. She gags at whatever was in it.
"The fuck was that, Alex?!" She sputters.
He gives her a blank look. Really thinking hard about what he gave her. "I've got no idea."
The hours seem to tick by. The people are slowly dissipating, leaving the safety of this weird little bubble they've created.
She's lightly buzzed still, having danced off the majority of the shots Alex had her doing. The couch is her new best friend, and Lando had brought her a blanket at some point in the last twenty minutes.
A weight on the other end of the sofa catches her attention. Max, with complete adoration in his blue eyes, is staring at her. "Wow," he slurs. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."
She laughs at his drunken thoughts. "You're not too bad looking yourself, babe."
The smile on his face is almost childish. It's big enough to almost fall off. His cheeks tinged a darker red with the blush adding to the alcohol flush.
"Go on a date with me? Please?" He tries to pout, but it ends up looking awkward mixed with the grin.
She flashes the ring at him. "Sorry, I'm spoken for." Alex and Lando are giggling from where they are watching this interaction unfold.
Max looks like a wounded puppy. Eye's glossing over like her might cry. "He must be such a lucky guy. You're just so perfect!"
"Awe, love, you wanna know a secret?" She leans in to whisper into Max's ear. "You married me."
If Max could hand you the world on a silver platter, he might have tried in this moment. The Dutch is vibrating in pure, unadulterated joy. Like a child who just got the ice-cream they were so desperately craving.
"Holy shit! I'm the lucky guy!"
Max smothers himself against your body. Eventually falling asleep, mumbling about how she's so amazing, and how he loves her so much. It's endearing to here his drunk affections laid bare for everyone to see.
It's the lullaby that calms her to a restful state. Fingers tangling with the softness of his hair. "You're not the only one who's lucky. I guess I'm pretty lucky, too."
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