#but if you mean angst as in a fan made it then sure
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].
SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader.
GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo.
WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information.
WORD COUNT. 6.3k.
NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?
IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.
The summary. Right. Yes.
“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”
You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.
“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”
You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.
“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”
And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.
“She’s zoned out.”
The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.
How the fuck do they know your name?
“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”
Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.
“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.
You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.
“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”
But still—
“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”
Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.
How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!
“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.
“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.
You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”
Now, hold the fucking phone.
“Is everything alright?”
You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”
“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”
Your face scrunches up.
“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”
Just what did you get yourself into?
“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.
There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats.
He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.
“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”
“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”
“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”
Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.
“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”
He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.
“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”
But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
What.
What the fuck?
“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.”
“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”
You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss.
Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”
With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.
“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of.
Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?”
Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.
“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”
Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”
Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.
“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”
Taehyun has to give you his water again.
“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”
“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”
“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”
“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”
“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”
Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.
“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.
Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”
You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.
“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”
Number. Hold on a fucking second.
“The comments are going crazy.”
You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.
“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”
You quickly get up from your seat.
“Yo, where are you going this time?”
“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out.
“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”
Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.
Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.
“Who’s this?”
“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”
Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.
*
It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting.
The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack.
“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”
When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream).
“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.
“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?”
“You can stay inside, it’s alright.”
He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”
You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.
The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you.
They stand up. They call out your name in unison.
Holy shit.
And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.
Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation.
“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”
Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.
“Please enjoy.”
With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.
God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all.
To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?
“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”
Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.
“But why are these two crashing our date?”
And that’s when things also start to get messy.
“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”
Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”
You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.
“You’re holding her hand too!”
“Why can’t I?!”
“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”
Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.
“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”
Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”
They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.
“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”
It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.
“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”
They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.
“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”
The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.
And your face starts burning.
“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”
Maybe you asked the wrong question.
Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.
It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”
Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”
Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut. “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame.
What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!
“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”
“Great!”
Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in.
“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”
There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.
“Hey.”
Your hands are clamped together.
“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”
Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.
“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”
Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.
But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”
The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.
“And you?”
“I’ve lo—”
“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”
You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”
“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”
“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”
Now, what the fuck?
Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”
There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”
Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.
“What about you?”
Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.
“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”
And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”
They all look offended.
“No!”
Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.
They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.
The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old.
You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.
“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”
You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”
There’s a tense pause in the air.
“What do you mean…?”
You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you.
“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”
It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”
Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”
Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
You could hear your heart in your eardrums.
It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”
Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.
“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”
Oh.
Oh, god.
Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.
It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.
“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.
“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”
The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.
“You— you mean it?”
To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.
You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.
“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”
You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.
“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”
There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.
“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”
STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE.
© hannie-dul-set, 2024.
#tomorrow x together x reader#txt x reader#choi yeonjun x reader#choi soobin x reader#choi beomgyu x reader#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together scenarios#txt x you#tomorror x together x you#soobin x reader#yeonjun x reader#beomgyu x reader#txt fanfic#choi soobin x you#choi beomgyu x you#choi yeonjun x you
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11. up from the dust, inconceivable love
Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Chapter Summary: Ellie learns the truth. Your family gains a member.
Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.
Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, self worth issues, canon violence, anger, child birth, spoilers for TLOU 2 (we’re entering the timeline that starts to burrow things for part 2 of the game)
Notes: huge thank you to my constants, my rocks @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and scream and break their hearts.
If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!
Words: 5352
Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist
“What do you think of Peace?” You ask, propped up in bed, hand over your swollen stomach. You’ve gained more weight this time, probably because you’re not in the throes of grief.
“I mean, I’m a fan. I hope everyone is.” Joel says, trimming his facial hair with the bathroom door wide open.
You bite your lip, admiring the expanse of his bare back. If getting out of bed wasn’t an event, you would be behind him right now, kissing his shoulders.
“No, as a name for a girl,” you say. Joel turns around looking at you like he’s contemplating checking you into a psychiatric ward if those still existed. “A middle name, not a first name.”
Joel sets his trimmers down, leaning in the doorway shirtless. “And what would her first name be?”
“Willow.”
Joel furrows his brow stepping into your bedroom, your shared bedroom. “Darlin, I know we live in a commune, but we’re not hippies.”
“You bring me wildflowers and we walk barefoot through the fields. I wouldn’t be so sure.” You can’t help but laugh. Joel cracks a smile. “Do you have suggestions then?”
“Thought about naming Sarah- Katherine.”
You make a face. You know one too many Kates and Katies even in Jackson.
“It’s not a bad name,” Joel chuckles.
“Neither is Willow.”
“Is this your way of telling me you’re a hippie?”
“Would you leave if I said yes?”
Joel shrugs “I don’t know, but I knocked you up so I guess I have to stay.” He crawls into the bed. His head is level with your stomach as he watches for movement.
You roll your eyes. “How romantic.”
He grins up at you and then his eyes are back on your belly. He rests a hand at the top, staring, waiting in wonderment. Neither of you can believe this is all real. Your baby moves around all the time, kicking your bladder and lungs, signifying life. A life you did not think would make it.
You thread your fingers through Joel’s soft brown hair. The outline of a foot appears and then disappears. Joel’s eyes sparkle and he kisses the same spot. He’s soft and gentle. In these moments, all your anxieties are carried away like leaves on an autumn breeze. This is your peace.
“What other names did you have picked out for Carter?”
You bite your lip. “We didn’t have any other boys' names.”
“And if he’d been a girl?” He’s still enthralled with your stomach as if there’s been an enchantment cast over it.
“Sarah.”
His head snaps up.
“Tommy and I talked about her a lot when I was pregnant. She was on my mind… being a part of Sarah’s life made me realize I wanted a family… even in this world where I had no right to do so.”
You keep playing with his hair. His eyes go glassy making you wonder what memory is playing behind his eyes. You stay like that until Joel is ready to talk. Eventually, he sits up, clearing his throat. His lips touch yours.
“What about Willa?”
You tilt your head to the side. You don’t really see how it’s any different than Willow, but you’re not going to bring that up. “I like it.”
“And Miles for a boy.” His smile returns. He doesn’t tell you that he’s positive you’re having a girl.
“Miles is an old man's name!”
“Good, then he’ll grow to be an old man.”
You take in a sharp breath. It’s just an offhand comment, but it carries so much weight. It’s a stark reminder of the heaviness of the world, and the twinge of guilt you feel bringing another child into it.
Joel takes your hand, kissing your palm. You see it in his eyes too. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve-”
“It’s okay.” Your fingers comb through his hair. He leans into your touch. His grays are more noticeable than they were a year ago, but the brown still outnumbers them.
“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” he asks.
“I don’t know… I- I haven’t really let myself think about it until today.” It's true. The fact of the matter is you’re within a month of your due date. You and Joel are so close to welcoming this baby into the world and are wildly unprepared.
“We’re getting close… We need a crib.”
“The one I used for Carter is in the attic.”
“I can bring it down in the morning.”
“I need to get some baby clothes. I traded all of Carter’s.”
“Looks like we have a bunch of work to do, Mama,” Joel smiles, kissing your forehead. He still hasn't told you about the swaddles and onesies tucked in the back of his drawer, but it seems you’re finally ready for them.
You cock your head to the side, contemplating the nickname. There’s a mix of emotions with it. You’re already a mother. Joel is a father, but this is a life you’re bringing in together. It’s uncharted territory for both of you. Sarah’s mom was out the door before she was six months old. Neither of you have done this part with a partner before.
A sharp knock on the front door pulls your mind from its wandering. Joel’s brow furrows, rolling out of the bed. People don’t knock on your door often. They usually barrel right in, unless it’s bad. Your stomach drops.
Joel is out of the bedroom, shrugging on a shirt. Dina’s voice calls through your home. “Hello?” She sounds worried, desperate.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed. It takes more time to stand these days. If you try too quickly, your head rushes making you feel dizzy.
“Dina? What’s wrong?” Joel’s at the bottom of the stairs now, but his voice carries. You have to stop at the top of the stairs to catch your breath.
“Ellie is gone.”
You freeze, grabbing the railing for stability. “What?”
Joel turns around, worry etched in his face. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. She mentioned something about the Fireflies and a hospital, but she wouldn’t talk to me.” You make out the flicker of hurt in Dina’s face. Those two tell each other everything, or most things. You’re not sure Ellie has told her about her immunity. You all keep that one pretty close to your chests.
“Shit,” Joel mumbles. He glances between you at his back and the front door in front of him. You see the push and pull. He needs to go after her. He needs to be here for you.
His eyes settle on you. Your hand settles on top of your swollen belly. He’s looking for permission. You want to give it, but what if he’s needed here before he gets back.
“She’s been off lately. I don’t know why. She won’t talk to me.” Dina seems to sense the silent conversation going on. “I can go after her, but-“
“No, I need to go.” Joel swings back toward the teenager, both hands placed on his hips. You try to bite back the panic rising inside you. He’ll be fine. They’ll both be fine. “Do you know when she left?”
“Probably sometime before the sun came up. Shimmer isn’t in the stable.”
Joel lets out a ragged sigh, hands running over his face. You try to keep the tears away, your hormones making it difficult.
“Will you let Maria know I’m going after her? I need to pack.”
Dina nods, her eyes flickering up to you before she’s gone in a flash of dark curls. Joel turns around, hand resting on the banister at the bottom of the stairs. You swallow and walk back into the bedroom.
It’s silent at first, nothing but the sounds of draws opening and closing and the soft slaps of his leather saddle bags. You sit in silence at the edge of your bed, chewing on your lip as you watch him. Ellie needs him. It echoes on repeat in your brain.
“I can probably catch her. We’ll be back in two weeks if I don’t.”
You stare down at your ever growing belly. You could easily be pregnant when he returns, but what if you’re not? You’re fairly certain you’ll have this baby sooner rather than later, but Ellie needs him too.
“Why does she want to go back to Salt Lake?”
Joel freezes for a second, like he’s contemplating his answer. It sets an uneasy feeling in your bones. “I don’t know. Maybe she thinks some of the Fireflies are still there? That this whole cure business is still an option?”
You nod, thoughts drifting to her face when you looked at her blood a couple months ago. She looked desperate. You hadn’t seen her like that before. It was almost unnerving, like the need to be needed by humanity had returned tenfold. It made you wonder if you’d been there for her enough these past few months.
“I have to go after her.”
There’s a desperation you don’t quite recognize in Joel’s eyes, sending a thread of dread through your body. Is he leaving something out? Not telling you something? You nod, biting your lip. “I know.”
He lays his hand on your bump, fingers stretching out over it. “We’ve got time.”
You nod. “Hurry back, and be safe, okay?”
Joel kisses your forehead. “Always.”
He rides out thirty minutes later.
You try to stay busy while they’re gone, cleaning the clinic and the house thrice over as the nesting and anxiety sets in. You ask Tommy to get the crib out of the attic as you prep the corner of your bedroom for the baby, wiping it free from the dust and cobwebs.
Maria hosts a small get together for you pulling together some semblance of a baby shower, something you hadn’t had with Carter. It's nice, but you feel like they skirt around the questions nagging in their brains. Where did Ellie and Joel go? Will they be back in time? You don’t have answers. You have the same fucking question. Will they be back?
The braxton hicks kick up, so much so you think you’re in labor ten days after Joel rides out. The fear that courses through your body is so paralyzing that you just lay in bed. Your body tenses with the memory’s of Carter’s labor. It’s not the physical pain of it, but the emotional rollercoaster you went through, alone. You’re not supposed to do this alone this time.
Then, the contractions stop with no explanation and you fall into a restless sleep. You miss Joel, his warmth and comfort. His unspoken love that fills the room. You’re becoming more comfortable with the idea of it.
You miss Ellie too, worried about what she’s going through. Providing it’s still vacant, Salt Lake won’t hold any answer for her. What lengths will she go to? How many miles will she travel in search of answers you believe don’t exist? How will she handle reality?
You see the differences in Carter too. In his mind, Ellie and Joel have always been here. Two weeks without them feels like a lifetime to him, and to you.
On day twelve, your front door flies open as you come down the stairs. Ellie bursts through looking frantic and frazzled. Her short cropped hair sticks up in certain places. Dirt smudges her forehead. You’re too relieved to see her to worry about her appearance. If anything, it’s expected after two weeks of travel, but your relief is short lived.
“Did you know?” She yells. The door stays wide open behind her, rage flaming in her eyes.
“What?”
“Did you know?”
“Know what?” You step toward her, reaching out, but she backs away like a wild animal.
“He killed them! All of them!”
“Killed who? Ellie, take a deep breath.”
“Joel! He killed the fireflies! They had a cure!”
Your breath catches. It’s not that Joel has killed people. You know about the years he spent as a raider. You know the cost of surviving in this world, but this isn’t the story you have been told about Salt Lake. When you asked him why she would go back, he lied. He knew. Knew the story hadn’t lined up in Ellie’s mind.
“So he lied to you too!”
“Ellie!” Joel is stern as his frame fills your doorway.
She spins around, the week of silence she spent next to him on the road back, wrath bubbling over and focused on him. “Tell her! Tell her, Joel!” She steps toward him. “Tell her what you did!” She shoves against his shoulders.
“Ellie…” He repeats her name, softer this time.
“Don’t do that!” She turns back to you, tears streaming down her cheeks. “They were going to make a cure from me, and you stopped them! You slaughtered them!”
“They were going to kill you!”
Your eyes widen, and it makes sense. Why Joel hasn’t talked about it. Why he needed to go after her. Why Ellie feels so useless. She’d been promised the cure. He’d taken that from her with a facade of an excuse.
“You should have let them!” Ellie screams until she pushes past him, rushing out of your house.
Joel lets out a sigh, defeat evident across his features. You can’t even enjoy their homecoming, their safety, your head spinning too much.
Joel shuts the door behind him, stepping closer like he’s expecting an embrace, but you step back, a mother’s anger building in your bones. He looks surprised. “Sweetheart…”
“You lied to her.”
“I protected her.” Joel’s eyes narrow. He’s tired and irritable. Neither of you expected a fight to ensue the moment he got home. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“You’ve watched her struggle with this for years!”
“They were going to kill her!”
“Have you listened to anything she’s said?”
You almost don’t recognize the Joel in front of you. He looks like a shell of the assured, warm man you know. You wonder if this is the version of Joel Tommy used to speak of. The one Joel has told you about during those late night chats when you spilled the depths of yourselves to each other, or you thought you had. The one who floated through his days, barely living.
“I couldn’t lose her!”
“Except you did!”
Joel straightens, shoulders setting in denial. “She’s alive! That’s what matters.”
“You’re missing the point!”
“You’re saying I should have let them go ahead with it! Let them cut open her head for a cure you don’t believe is possible!”
Fire blazes in Joel's eyes. You see it. There’s no rationalizing with him about this. In his eyes, there were no choices to be made. He did the only thing. It doesn’t matter what else he has to sacrifice, she’s alive and that’s all that matters. “That’s not-”
He scoffs, cutting you off. You see the pain and hurt ripple through his body, causing him to step back from you. “Sure sounds like it.”
“Joel!”
“Don’t.” He yanks the front door open. “I can’t be here right now.”
He disappears across the threshold in the blink of an eye leaving you with a mountain to process and a growing tension across your stomach.
Joel knows he’s in the wrong. He knows he shouldn’t have lied to Ellie, held the truth from you. He’s a grown man, of course he knows what’s right and wrong, but that admittance doesn’t do anything to calm him. He needs to get out. Out of the house. Out of the walls into the open. It doesn’t matter that he just came from two weeks out there.
He sneaks over the wall with more ease than he should be able. Instantly, he feels the tightening in his chest begin to ease. He paces the outside of the wall like a caged animal, the series of events reeling through his mind. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been pushing it back since they left Salt Lake. Her words, her pleas, over and over. She’d given him every opportunity to tell her the truth and he kept the lie going.
There was no cure. The words he’d utter to her after they found that couple, one dead the other infected while out on patrol.
He’d almost told her, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her. Couldn’t risk it.
His pacing becomes more frantic as he remembers the fear he felt at the thought of losing Ellie, the fear that pushed him into wiping away every firefly that crossed his path. The same fear that put lies in his mouth before he had time to think, that kept him from telling her the truth. He knew this would happen one day, but hadn’t been enough. He’d kept it from everyone, including you.
Tell me, she had pleaded with him, begged him and he still felt the pull to replace his lie with another.
She’d had to poke and prod to get the words from his mouth. Had to threaten to leave before she got the truth. That hurt almost as much as the fallout. Everyone thought he was a better man than he actually was. Ellie, you, himself, but when it came down to it. He failed that test. Good men don’t make someone threaten to leave to get the truth.
I’ll go back, but we’re done.
Joel wears a path in the fresh grass beneath his feet, letting the spring chill take over when the sun sets, leaving him in darkness. Ellie had kept her word. He’d never heard her stay quiet for so long. The loss had begun to settle in with her riding next to him.
Joel’s muscles ache from two weeks out on the road. He misses you and Carter. He hasn’t even touched you yet. Will you let him?
Getting over the wall from the outside proves more difficult than it had the first time. Which is a good thing, but had Joel feeling every one of his 59 years. Embarrassment creeps over his cheeks with each step toward your home. The one he shares with you, but he feels like a guest as he climbs the steps. He doesn’t catch a glimpse of you or Carter or anyone else through the windows.
The house is silent when he enters, no signs of life except for the faint buzzing of light bulbs. His brow furrows. You wouldn’t have left the lights on if you weren’t home. Then a faint sound comes from upstairs, movement at the very least. He follows it, placing his hand on the closed bedroom door before cracking it open.
Soft groans come from behind the cracked bathroom door followed by a whispered curse. Maria's voice follows. Joel’s throat drops into his stomach. His boots echo off the wood floor as he crosses the room. “Sweetheart?” he calls, staying on his side of the door. “Is everything alright?”
“Joel? Get in here,” you groan out.
It sends some reassurance through him to hear you so clearly before he swings the door open. His eyes go wide at the sight of you in the tub, sweat staining your skin as Maria kneels next to you. “Shit, are you?”
“Make yourself useful and hold my hand.”
He nods, kneeling beside you. Maria stands, grabbing a few instruments from the bathroom sink, she gives Joel a look that lets him know you’re near the end of labor. Your baby will be here in minutes. It sends a rush through him. “I’m sorry, Darlin.”
You grab onto his hand tightly. It’s wet from the bathwater sloshing around you as you fight to get comfortable. It’s a useless pursuit, but it doesn’t keep you from trying. “Can we do the apologizing later? I’m kinda busy at the moment.”
“Yes,” Joel takes a deep breath, his heart pounding in his ears. He squares his shoulders next to you, giving an air of assurance you know he doesn’t have. “I’m here for whatever you need.”
“I think you missed most of it.”
“Not that you’ve had much to miss,” Maria says, stern. She pissed at him, which is more than fair given everything. You’d had some time to explain what happened. “We tried to find you. Her labor progressed pretty quick.”
“Speaking of which-” You let out a gasp, face twisting in pain. “I think the baby is crowning.”
“She must be in a hurry,” Joel says.
“She?”
“Just a hunch.” Joel smiles, kissing your head.
For the next few minutes, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Your fight never happened because there’s only one thing on your minds, bringing your baby into the world. The world goes silent again, but not in a bad way. A way that makes you feel at peace, Joel’s warm hand in yours. It doesn’t take long until she announces her arrival with a fiery scream once Maria pulls her out of the water.
You hold her close, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. Joel leans in, his forehead pressed to your temple, arms wrapping around you and your daughter as she pulls air into her lungs.
“You did great, Sweetheart.” He whispers into your hair as he kisses your cheek, cupping your daughter’s head. “She’s beautiful.”
Your eyes flicker between him and your newborn. It’s the moment you’ve been envisioning for months, the one you thought you’d get with Gabe when Carter was born. A little piece of you mends. Your child soothes against your skin.
After you’re both cleaned up, Joel helps you into bed, then settles beside you. She sleeps in your arms, tiny fist clenched around one of Joel’s fingers still curled up in your softest bath towel. You brush her cheek softly.
“I believe we decided on Willa Peace?”
“Did we?” You tilt your head to the side, a grin verging on your lips. “I thought we weren’t hippies.”
Joel shrugs, tracing your shoulders. “I had a lot of time to think about it the past couple of weeks.”
“Joel…”
Dirt still traces over his face. He hasn’t had time to clean off since he got back. You catch the faint smell of sweat on his clothes and skin. “I know.”
“I would have done the same thing to save her. You know what I think about cures.” You keep your gaze on your child. It only reminds you what you brought her into. “You lied to her over and over when she needed the truth.”
“I was trying to protect her.”
“I wish you would’ve told me.”
“I know.”
“This only works if we’re open with each other.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are.” You bite your lip. “I’m going to need some time with this one.”
Joel nods, arm wrapping around you. “I know.”
You lean into him, enjoying the quietness that surrounds the three of you.
“Willa Peace Miller,” You smile. “Has a nice ring to it.”
“Yeah.” Joel hums beside you. “Can’t believe she’s actually here.”
“And we’re both okay.”
He nods, and neither of you can tear your eyes away from the precious little being in your arms. You hang on every rise and fall of her chest, everything micro movements, the soft flutter of her eyes that never quite open. It all feels so fragile, so sacred.
You remember similar moments with Carter. When the grief and the world got too loud, you would lay on the floor or bed with him on your chest asleep. The weight of his small body was a tether that kept you from flying away.
Even in this moment, as your heart inexplicitly expands, you feel that thread of fear winding itself through your body. Another person to love and protect. Another person to keep from the jaws of the world. Another person you can’t bear to lose.
“You know,” you say, pulling Joel’s attention. “If you were ever gonna pull those baby clothes and blankets out of your drawer, now would be the time.”
His brow furrows and then eases with realization. “How long have you known they were there?”
You let out a soft chuckle. “I washed them the next time you went out on patrol. I wasn’t going to leave those filthy things in your drawer.”
“You were going through my things, I see.”
“Next time don’t try to hide something in your drawer from the person who washes your clothes.”
Joel laughs, easing out of the bed to fetch the items from the drawer. “Got it, I’ll be sneakier next time.”
“Can you get the onesie with the yellow flowers?” You bite back a smile. He doesn’t know how you often pulled the drawer open and just gazed upon the items. It helped you visualize it all even when the fear threatened to take over. Another child, and here she was. You’d been most drawn to the little yellow flowers.
Joel laughs, grabbing the onsie and the swaddle with little yellow flowers to match. You’re gentle with her as you work the small article of clothing over her tiny body. It’s a bit baggy, but you can’t complain. It just means she can wear it for longer. She sleeps through all the jostling as if she’s fully absorbed her middle name.
She’s settled back into your arms when a soft tap echoes on your door. “Mommy?” Carter’s voice comes through muffled.
“You can come in.”
The door flies open as your son bursts through the door, grin spread wide on his face. Ellie stands behind him, looking like the space might envelope her.
“Aunt Maria said I have a baby sister.”
“You want to meet her?” you ask.
Carter nods eagerly, dashing toward your bed. Joel catches him before he can jump onto the bed beside you and potentially on you.
“Daddy!” Carter’s eyes go wide. He hasn’t seen Joel in almost two weeks.
Joel laughs, arms tightening around the boy. “Hey, bud.”
Your eyes meet Ellie’s. Her eyes are red, bags deep underneath. You motion her next to you. She hesitates before sliding onto the bed beside you. She’s timid, keeping to the edge, eyes flicking over you and Willa.
“You can get closer.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I never got to hug you earlier.”
She looks down, eyes scanning over your comforter like she’s reliving her homecoming. Once she’s close enough, your arm slips around her shoulders, tugging her close. She nuzzles into your side like a child seeking comfort. “You’re alright?” she asks.
“Yeah… we both are.” You say, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“But I’m still sorry you’re going through this.”
Ellie seems to sink into your further, eyes pinned to Willa. She doesn’t answer you. She doesn’t look at Joel as he sinks next to you with Carter, but you feel her tense when he does.
“What’s her name?” Ellie asks.
“Willa,” you reply.
“Baby Willa.” Carter grins proudly.
And the five of you sit there together in silence. You try to push it out of your head that it’s the last time you all might be together for a while. Even now, you feel the underlying anger rolling through Ellie’s body. This is a wound that’s been festering. It’s going to take time to heal.
Eventually, Ellie slips from your side without a word to leave. She’s barely out the door when Joel goes after her.
“Ellie,” Joel says, catching her on the front porch.
Her head whips around, expression set in stone. “I’m here for them, not you.” She keeps her voice low to not be overheard by nosy neighbors. “They’re my family. Do you understand?”
Joel’s apology catches in his throat. He’s been apologizing the whole way back from Salt Lake. He knows there’s nothing he can say to rush this process. He made a decision, and these are his consequences. “Yeah… I got it.”
“Good.”
She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else.
The bed is empty next to you, the sheets cool to the touch. Your eyes blink open. Cool moonlight shines through the window. You glance at the bathroom door. No light shines through the crease. Joel’s name is on your lips, interrupted by his voice.
“Do you like the butterflies?”
You turn to your side. Joel sits next to the crib, talking to Willa. She’s awake, moonlight reflecting off her big eyes. She’s content and still.
“Your big sister liked butterflies. When they come out in the summertime, I feel her around me.”
She stares at Joel, mesmerized by his voice. Your eyes float upward to the mobile Joel made. He hadn’t explained it to you, but you already knew. Sarah had pinned them all throughout their Austin home. You keep one stuck to the window above the kitchen sink. There’s one tucked in his nightstand drawer.
“I think she sent you to me.” He lets it sit there, contemplating the weight and depth of what he said. “I think she sent you to me, your momma, Ellie, I suppose she’s your big sister too, Carter. All of you.
“Her name was Sarah. She would have loved you.” He chuckles. “She used to ask me for a baby brother or sister. I didn’t know your momma yet… Well, I guess I did, but that’s a whole ‘nother story.”
You stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Joel’s eyes lock on yours. He smiles, shooting you a wink. He looks younger under the moonlight, more at ease. The creases in his skin are less apparent.
“Your momma, she’s quite a bit younger than me.” The smile stays pinned to his face. “It’s not so creepy now- least that’s what she tells me- but it would’ve been then, and I was a decent fella back before the world went to shit. Besides, between you and me.” He leans closer to Willa’s ear, but his eyes are still on you. “Your momma had a pretty big crush on me back then.”
You groan, heat flushing your cheeks. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, but it is. You chuck his pillow at him. Joel catches it, laughing. It’s the kind that sits deep in one’s chest and bubbles up with the purest kind of joy. You can’t help but smile.
He slowly stands, grunting as he does. You hear the familiar pop of his joints. He leans into the crib. You notice Willa’s eyes have fallen shut. “I love you, my little wildflower.” He kisses her cheek before falling back into bed next to you.
His arm wraps around your waist. Pulling you close, he steals a kiss on your forehead. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.”
“You’re getting too old to have a newborn, yet here we are.” Your fingers run through his hair.
“Still can’t believe she’s here… you’re both healthy.”
“Neither can I.” You glance back at the crib. She’s just a few days old and already, you can’t imagine life without her.
Tears well at the corner of your eyes. Your heart has grown so much. You thought you couldn’t open it to more people, yet here you are. The you of 4 years ago would be too terrified of losing this life to give it a chance, the price of pain too high. Yet here you are, embracing it, taking that risk, because this is living, and the love and belonging far outweigh the potential for pain even as it grows with every passing day. You fell into the trap,and it’s a crowded one, but it’s a happy one.
Joel kisses your cheek. “You should get some sleep before she wakes up hungry.”
“Mmm,” you hum as his hands move soothingly over your back. “Someone not named Willa woke me up.”
Joel chuckles. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”
But even now you feel your eyelids getting heavier.
“Did you mean what you said?”
“About?”
You let your eyes fall shut as Joel massages out a knot in your back. You lean into it. “About Sarah sending us to you.”
“I did.” He kisses your forehead.
Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites
@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller
@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa
#woman (joel miller)#joel miller#joel miller x reader#tlou#the last of us#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#the last of us hbo#tlou fanfiction#pedrostories#pedro stories#ppcu fanfiction#em's fics
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How would you react if they miraculously made sam angst?
Bruh Chris and Icey aren't coming back for wdy lmao
#and to be honest for at least Chris I'm glad he doesn't come back#his was of drawing female bodies was just. atrocious#I don't mean it in a bad sense. i mean i do but it's just. he always gave them the most basic feminine poses#there was nothing special going on#and it didn't matter if you were a teen or a grown ass adult if you were female you were getting big round waists#but anywyas#iceypie def won't do anything with the creepy/pasta he's so damn tired of it lmao#but if you mean angst as in a fan made it then sure#I'd prob check it out#ask#laurasdeposit
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lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals
note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.
important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)
type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.
pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem
warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw
۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.
۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.
۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.
۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.
۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.
۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.
۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.
۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.
۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.
۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others
f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?
view comments…
user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok
user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit
user77: isn’t she friends with kika??
user25: yes!
user3: he doesn’t look happy….
user90: meh
user41: looks forced
user2: my mannnnn
user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.
۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.
۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.
۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?
۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.
۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.
۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.
۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.
۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:
lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.
magui: oh…ok?
lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?
magui: i’ll ask kika
magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry
lando: ???
magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful
lando: she is
*lando has blocked this number*
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others
landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️
view comments…
*only certain profiles can reply to this post*
y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss
landonorris: smack me??
y/n.user: you posted my TOES
oscarpiastri: double dates?
landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling
y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes
lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞
danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it
carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!
charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!
savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!
landonorris: i will, don’t fret
olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.
۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.
۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.
۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.
۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.
۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
#lando norris#f1#formula 1#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris angst#lando norris blurb#lando norris hc#lando norris headcannons#lando norris headcannon#ln4#ln4 smau#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x reader#lando norris fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot#ln4 angst#smau#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 fluff
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📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞
𝐀/𝐍: So I got bored at work and done this. Some of these head cannons might contradict to the current fics I’ve written but who cares, this is fan FICTION. I did try to add both genitals here… but I’m used to writing fem reader when I write for Miguel so there’s heavy emphasis on AFAB reader.
𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
📄 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I see a lot of people writing him as very attentive and soft when it comes to stuff like aftercare which is totally okay. But I like to put a little bit of angst in my writing and personally, I think these tender moments won't come naturally from him. Not yet.
This man has a lot of baggage and is fully aware of it. He lost his daughter and is living a post-tragedy. It’ll take some time to get used to being emotionally vulnerable with someone again, including giving aftercare.
The first few times you did it together, he’s still clueless about how to take care of things. At most, he'll probably hand you his shirt to keep you warm and give you some wet wipes to clean yourself up. You’re going to have to be patient with him since he is a little rusty and trying to relearn these intimate gestures. If you communicate your needs, he’ll do his best to fulfill them.
Tell him you want to shower together and clean each other off, cuddle with him, tell him to stay with you because he makes you feel safe. Sooner than you might expect, he'll be all over you when it comes to you and being attentive to your needs and desires.
📄 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Miguel really loves his arms and how big they are. Pretty sure I can recall him carrying an anomaly with one hand before dashing it through the portal. I could be wrong… Of course he’ll take advantage of his strength and that means picking your up with ease whether it’s over his shoulders to spank you, or bridal style to bed if he’s feeling extra romantic.
I see him as a thigh guy when it comes to his partner. He just loves feeling your thighs, whether he’s kissing you passionately with you laid beneath him, or would grasp onto them while going down on you and feeling how your legs tense around him as you fall apart.
If you’re a woman, he will delve into your breasts the second you take your top off for him. Whether you're small or heavy chested, he’ll adore it all the same. Especially when you’re lactating…especially when you’re lactating. Be prepared for him to gently suck on them, maybe even leave some bite marks.
📄 𝐂𝐮𝐦.𝐝𝐨𝐜
A man with his size, he comes a lot, and that's just from one orgasm. That being said, you can imagine how intense it can be when you suck him off and he comes inside of your mouth. It can get messy, very messy, and he can fill your mouth faster than you can anticipate so be prepared.
He likes to watch his cum leaking from your hole after stuffing you with his load. It gives him a sense of pride knowing that he’s capable of doing that to you. He’ll even give you kisses and praise you for taking all of him so well in the end.
On occasion, he does like to spray his cum over your chest and stomach. Though he’d prefer to do it inside so it’s less of a mess to clean up after.
Also might I add, I saw someone had a head cannon that his cum comes out as cobwebs/has a cobweb texture. That might spark some inspiration for future fics… we’ll see.
📄 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭��� 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I don’t know what it is, but I have a feeling he’d probably jerk off to you pre-relationship. He didn’t know at the time what made you so enticing that he pleasured himself while thinking of you. Maybe it was the way you moved, the way you carried yourself and how smooth you were with everything.
It makes him feel absolutely filthy even thinking back to it, that he allowed himself to think of you in that way. But after a while, he just couldn’t get his mind off of you and reluctantly, he found himself doing it again.
He’s never admitted it to you though and would probably take it to his grave. He doesn’t want to creep you out or think of him as a perv, even after doing it with you several times.
He secretly wants you to use a butt plug on him too or call him a good boy but his pride will never let him admit to it.
📄 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Given the fact that Miguel is canonically a cheater, I think it’s safe to say that he has had his fair share of experiences lmao.
I haven’t read the comics but I can see him as the type to fuck around in his late teen years since he was a little rebellious according to the wiki page and supposedly cocky in bed too.
Most of them were probably nothing serious anyways.
If you have no experience and he’s your first, he’ll be as slow and gentle as he can, constantly reassuring you that you’re doing well ect.
📄 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Missionary: The classic I’d call it. I think it is obvious that this is one of his favourite positions to do with you: he can see your face and most importantly eye contact. It’s easier to feel your body too, gripping onto your waist and maybe steal a quick kiss in between before he continues to fuck you senseless.
Mating press: Same reasons as doing missionary but he can push himself deeper inside of you with your legs resting on his shoulders with better leverage. He likes to see your legs go limp on his shoulders after he comes inside of you and pulls out.
Doggy style: He loves giving you back shots. What more is there to say? He loves the feeling of your ass against his crotch and he has easier access to your hair to tug from time to time.
Prone bone: Same as doggy style in addition to seeing you bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. It’s more comfortable laying down on the bed on both of your parts too.
Lotus: On occasions when the mood is more sensual and romantic than usual and he wants to feel more connected with you, he’d stick to the lotus position. He might just want to do it after a rough day, and feeling your embrace without being on top of you will definitely lift his mood.
📄 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
You’re probably going to have to initiate anything remotely unserious during sex if I’m going to be honest. Just like the intimate gestures, it won’t come naturally to him.
Not saying that this man is stone cold, we’ve all seen how he smiled with his daughter and how she was smearing her ice cream on his face in the movie. I think he does have a funny bone deep in his body somewhere under the stoic demeanour. It’ll only take the right person to bring it out. And bear in mind, he doesn’t trust openly.
Maybe chuckling softly before he dips himself to kiss your neck and hearing you whine for more. He might throw a lighthearted witty remark to throw you off. Your reaction amuses him. A lot. Shock, what has he done to you? Definitely see him as a tease but we’ll get to that in a bit.
📄 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜
He chooses to keep himself trimmed but with his heroic duties and leading the Spider Society, it’s hard to keep up with his shaving routine
Though, you did mention how you liked his hair brush against your ass when he’s fucking you from behind, so there’s that…
📄 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Something that will take time as mentioned earlier. After the loss of his daughter and monitoring the multiverse, he’s had a hard time emotionally connecting with people. Most of the time it’s cause of him shutting everyone out.
Once his emotional barriers have cleared with you, he’ll become more open with his affection especially in bed. He’ll praise you and mumble a few ‘te amo mucho’ while kissing you everywhere and learning every crevice of your body.
📄 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Not as often now that he has you other than watching tapes of you. We’ll get to that in a bit.
But even before you got together, he never had the time to pleasure himself.
Whenever he does come around to do it, it’ll be from the stress and pressure he faces everyday. But he hates the mess he’ll have to clean up after, and there is a lot of mess.
📄 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Breeding kink: I think the majority of Miguel fans agree that he has a breeding kink. Whether you can carry a child or not, he will stuff you as he climaxes. If you do get knocked up and you start to show, he’ll be all over you, reliving the moment of the baby’s conception again and again while kissing all over your swollen stomach. Yes, he misses his fatherhood days and wants to try again with you.
Lactation kink: Just as we discussed earlier, he loves seeing you lactate. It’s one of the things he admires about how your body changes as you carry and grow his child. Catch him suckling on your breast midway as he kisses all over your body.
Bondage (with his webbing): It comes to no surprise that Miguel will use his enhanced abilities and powers to his advantage in bed. That being said, he will use his webbing to limit your ability to move. He might start off with webbing your hands together or maybe tying both wrists to the bedpost, depending on where you do it. It’s amusing to him watching you squirm from his touches while being tied up.
Sensory deprivation: According to cannon, he has enhanced vision and can see in complete darkness, since he doesn’t have Spider Senses, and he will be using that in bed with you. Maybe when you least expect it. He likes fucking you in the dark and watching your reaction while you, on the other hand, lay still in anticipation and react to his different touches. This also might awaken his interest in fear play with you but he won’t discuss that with you unless you're 100% comfortable.
📄 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Your shared bedroom is his safe place where he can let loose and lose himself in his desires with you.
He likes doing it in the kitchen. He doesn’t know why it excites him, but seeing you in the middle of either cleaning or cooking and watching how your hips sway with each movement, he can’t help but grab your waist and pull you closer so you can feel his hard on from behind.
On occasions when it is just the two of you in HQ, he’ll probably sneak in a quick fuck with you before a anyone comes in after their mission task and report to him, and he’ll act like nothing just happened between the two of you.
📄 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜
One of Miguel’s main motivations is watching you play with Mayday or just handling babies in general. It instantly kicks the breeding kink and baby fever on overdrive and he will take you to bed the minute you arrive home.
Another motivation, as mentioned earlier, is watching the way your body sways gracefully as you complete your domestic tasks. It’s even more enticing when you’re completely oblivious to how sensual you are in his eyes. You’ll be the death of him and you don’t even know it.
📄 𝐍𝐎.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Being called ‘master’ in bed. Though he does like being in control and taking the lead, being called that, especially by his romantic partner, is uncomfortable for him. Having said that, he wouldn’t mind being called ‘sir’ from time to time, especially if you were to use that sultry voice on him. It makes him weak in the knees everytime.
Collars and leashes are a big no too, it hurts his pride being used on him, and seeing it on his partner is…unsettling.
He refrains from using his venom on you too. It was you who initiated the idea but he refused. Physically, the furthest he’ll go is tying you up.
He tries to avoid shower sex, but if you coax him and rile him up enough, he might give in. Just try not to over do it otherwise he’ll stop doing it all together.
📄 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Miguel is fully aware how big he is so he wouldn’t expect his you to suck him off if you can’t handle it. But when you do, he’ll be driven up the walls. He loves watching his cock disappear inch by inch and fully engulfed into your pretty mouth.
He watches how your perky lips wrap around his length before you start moving. He’d have to hold back, using every fibre in effort to not grab your hair and start fucking your throat straight. The last thing he wants is for you to gag or chock midway.
He loves giving it to you though. He can’t get enough of how your legs enclose around him as he delves into your sex. He finds it amusing how you would buck your hips up for more friction especially when you whine for more, only for him to grip your sides and hold you down.
📄 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Depending on the mood. He’ll be slow and sensual if you want to take your time especially after a long, rough day at HQ and all he wants to do is unwind and make love with you and just pour all of his affection and appreciation in one night.
If you’ve teased him, giving him hints and the ‘fuck me’ eyes throughout the whole day, be prepared because he will not hold back. Since he does have a high stamina, not just in combat but in bed, he’ll rut for hours— and in different positions too.
I mean, you brought this upon yourself so you have to deal with the consequences. Should’ve seen it coming querida, hm?
Sometimes there’s room for both if you have more time together.
📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Definitely would want quick fucks in the morning before he starts his day, especially knowing that the fate of the whole multiverse is dependent on him as he always says to you.
He will be away from you the whole day and expect to be under a lot of pressure and withhold that responsibility, so a quick release inside of you will boost his morning before he has to get out of bed.
📄 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜
He’s usually pretty sensible when it comes to having sex in a private space like your bedroom but for some reason, being with you awoken something in him. Maybe it was the way you were a tease.
He never thought he’d be fucking you in the middle of the day while on duty. He reluctantly let you suck him off while he was overseeing the multiverse once. He was stressing out and you insisted on assisting him relief some of that pent up frustration.
📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I don’t think I need to go into full detail here. We all know this man has superhuman stamina. His body releases less fatigue toxins than an ordinary human so he will use that in bed with you.
If you don’t have the same level of energy as him, he wouldn’t mind either taking a break or stopping all together. He’s aware that his high stamina is because of his DNA that not everyone can keep up with.
📄 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Other than the butt plug I mentioned earlier, Miguel doesn’t seem to see the use in toys. He’d rather do the work with his hands and his dick. Furthermore, he can always use his powers and enhanced abilities in bed too.
He does use a vibrator with you from time to time just to edge you a little.
📄 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜
In time, when Miguel gets in the swing of things he will tease you, especially knowing how bad you want him (and vice versa). Whether it’s hearing you beg him to touch you or to reach your orgasm, Miguel will tease you when he’s in the right mood for it (or when you’re being punished).
Orgasm denial will happen often so don’t think he’ll let you come that easily. He secretly wants you to do the same to him too but, again, his pride will never let him admit to it. Give it time. Trust me.
It’s been a while since he had a connection like this with anyone and having someone want him this much will do things to him.
If he is planning on getting you knocked up, all the teasing goes out the window. He will please you all he can and prepare you before he spills his seeds in you, in hopes of you getting pregnant.
📄 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜
I can’t imagine him being the type to be loud in bed but I can definitely see him being vocal, especially when it comes to praising you or coaxing you to come. Sometimes you just can’t control your mouth in the spur of the moment.
He might groan and grunt from time to time when he’s focusing on reaching his climax or when he’s trying to hold back.
And those who want to hear him whimper….maybe try and top him and see how that’ll end up.
📄 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Been waiting to get to this! He gets off watching holograms sex tapes of you either pleasing yourself or squirting/ejaculating.
He’s able to watch from every angle and will rewatch it again and again until he’s finally alone with you and can see you come in person from his touches.
📄 𝐗-𝐫𝐚𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜
We’ve all seen the fandom talking about Miguel fingers being 11 inches. Someone said that his hand is bigger than an A4 piece of paper (Don’t take my word for it lmao)
So it’ll only make sense if he’s dick is big too, same size as his fingers I’d say, maybe an inch or two smaller, because holy fuck he’d split you in half with just his dick!
Pretty girthy too so he’ll rub on every crevice of your silky walls, giving the best friction.
📄 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜
It makes sense that Miguel has a high sex drive especially with his pent up stress. He would take it out on you in bed after a long day and grin as you beg for more.
He wouldn’t initiate anything for a while until he’s properly settled with you and once he’s comfortable enough, he’ll pull you towards him in the most unexpected moments.
📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜
Miguel’s suffering from insomnia is one of my head cannons, so don’t expect him to drift off immediately after sex anytime soon. He battles haunting nightmares of the multiverse collapsing one day and sometimes his brain replays the image of his daughter fading away in his arms over and over again.
But eventually they do begin to relent. Listening to your steady breathing as you sleep, nestling in his arms or on his chest really helps calm his nerves.
Cum.doc please 😭
#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara imagine#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman atsv#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#spiderman 2099 x reader smut#atsv smut#♦︎— spicy#★— ayrus writes
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Everything I Wanted II.
LESTAPPEN X READER (PART 2)
Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.
Word count: 8.9k
Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read
Relationships: Lestappen x Reader
Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader
Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader
Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is very angsty and none of it is an attack at the drivers nor their fans and personalities, please.
I know I KNOW, this got out of hand, AGAIN. I promise next part (and hopefully last) is more focused on the romance, and the happy ending reader deserves.
Find me on Twitter!
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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You spent Christmas with your mom, sharing a lot of presents and watching a bunch of stupid Christmas movies. New Year’s was now a tradition to spend with the Raikkonen Family, joined with the closest friends for a little get together. It was a good opportunity to reconnect with Kimi’s kids who missed you a lot during the season.
Charles never contacted you during winter break, which you were sure was the best after that mistake. You hated each other too much and the only thing that could come out of that was toxicity from the both of you. You refused to even acknowledge what had happened and its implications, that wouldn’t and couldn’t mean anything.
During the pre-season testing in Bahrain, you and Charles were back to whatever your relationship was before that one lapse in judgment months before.
Nobody noticed anything.
One day, Fernando pulled you aside for a little chat. You two sat side by side on big moving boxes, sipping on energy drinks.
“There’s something I have been wanting to talk to you about since last year,” he started, seemingly pensive, distant.
“Is everything ok?”
“Yeah, yeah. Remember after we first met when you asked me if I had advice for you regarding your career?” Fernando said, and you remembered.
Right after you had gotten close, you asked him for advice, you always did, especially about racing. But one day, you were chatting about his career, and you asked if had any lessons you should never forget. He had laughed joking about read all your contracts then asking if you were calling him old, but he said if he ever had any advice, he would tell you.
“Yes, have you got my answer yet?”
“Sí, Nena,” he paused, looking deep into your eyes, “enjoy.”
You frowned and he saw the confusion on your face.
“I see much of my younger self in you, you know? The same passion, this fiery desire to win, your goal for the championship, to conquer the world…” Fernando paused, looking up to the clear sky, the sunset coming around, “And I did. But I wish I had enjoyed it more. I should’ve gone to parties, I should’ve visited the countries we went to and tried the food, I should’ve made more friends, I should’ve had more lovers… I was so focused on winning, on getting my hands on that trophy of champion of the world, that I missed out on a lot.”
You felt your eyes tear up, and you wiped it before the tears came down. Putting your hand on his shoulder, you smiled at him.
“It’s such an honor race with you. And an even greater honor to have you as a friend, Nano” you whispered to him, you two laughed as his eyes watered too, and slapping his shoulder you laughed, “don’t make me cry, you old softie!”
You took his advice to your heart.
You went to the parties, you met new people, and that’s how after two entire seasons, you managed to befriend Lando, your teammate. You two had to open your hearts a little bit and meet in the middle. Which proved to be great, the whole team loved the change in your dynamic. You still weren’t besties, but you were close colleagues, and that was great. Everyone noticed the change and it reflected on how you started racing as a team instead of individually.
The car was even better than the year before, and the first race of the season you got a promising win.
That win, Lando’s pestering, and Fernando’s advice was how you ended up in a party after the Bahrain GP. Wearing a skimpy mini dress and 5 tequila shots deep, swaying your hips to the sound of Rihanna. You were dancing and singing with Lando and a few of his friends, loudly screaming the lyrics.
When it was way too hot for you, you grabbed a water bottle and beelined your way out of the crowded dance floor. You found a corner of the VIP section where the AC seemed to be working better, and as you stumbled inside the small space, you ran chest first into someone.
“Sorry,” you said, taking a step back and pressing your back against the cold wall.
“Enjoying your win?” Your head snapped up as you recognised Max’s voice. You had run into him.
Lando had mentioned inviting Max to the party, he had gotten a P2 in the race but you doubted he would go to a party he knew you would attend. You were obviously wrong.
“You know I am,” the victory was so good that nothing could ruin your mood.
“Well, then enjoy it. I’m coming for the win, again.” He warned you but his voice was devoid of anything, just sounded like he was casually telling you about the weather. But you knew that he was implying his championship the year before, rubbing it in your face.
“Don’t be so confident, Max,” you finished your water, smirking at him, “Enjoy the view of my rear!”
You flipped your hair, feeling his eyes on you the whole walk back to the dance floor.
And yet-
Somehow-
You ended up back at that small corner, dancing with your body pressed between Verstappen’s and the wall, his hand holding your jaw firmly, you rolled your hips against him, feeling the way his body responded to yours.
“We can’t-” he said to you, still, his eyes hadn’t left your lips, like he was so oh so tempted.
You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Sober you would never do that, but then, that was a problem for later. Checking to see if anyone was looking at you, you hooked a finger around his waistband and pulled him towards the bathroom.
As soon as the two of you were inside, you locked the door and Max pressed your back against the door, latching his lips to yours in a very desperate open mouthed kiss. You hugged his shoulders, opening your lips to him, his hands went down your sides and he grabbed your ass, pulling you into him. But that wasn’t enough, so he held your thighs and pulled up, carrying you. You locked your legs around his waist, and he stopped the kiss to walk, sitting you on the marble side of the sink, still between your legs, forcing his bulge against your panties, and eliciting a moan from you.
He took a half step back to hike your dress up, palming your cunt over your panties feeling the dampness of it, he tried to press his hand under your panties, but the lacy fabric didn’t leave much space, so he simply tore the bottom of them, exposing you to him. He just ran a finger over your slit, collecting your wetness for a brief moment before pushing a finger into you. Max watched your face with concentration, studying your body’s responses. Your hips shaking at the movement of his finger, and when the second one joined, you got louder. He curled his fingers up, his thumb pressing your clit, and you had to use both hands to hold onto him, your head lolling back against the mirror.
“Take it and shut the fuck up,” he grunted between clenched teeth.
He was pressing your insides so good, the slick sound of his fingers going in and out, his heavy breathing, the loud music outside and his laser focused fingers had you coming against his fingers in minutes. When he noticed you close, cunt spasming against his fingers, he pressed the other hand against your mouth, covering your moans when your toes curled and you orgasmed on his hand.
Max barely let you recover as he opened his jeans and stroked himself twice before pushing his cock into you in one swift move, making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.
“That’s what you wanted, right? Fucking teasing me all night,” He pushed particularly hard, hitting your g-spot, making you see stars, “you’re a fucking menace, y’know that? Fucking insufferable,” then his words became a mumbling of something dutch you couldn’t quite catch anymore with the way his hips snapped against yours, taking all your focus away and turning you into a mess of moaning.
Max fucked like he raced, focused and relentless, brutal. He hugged you with one arm around your waist to keep you in place and the other held you face, tilting your head so he could kiss you, or whatever that mess of saliva, tongues and teeth was. Your orgasm crashed through you unexpectedly, and you only hugged him tighter, pressing your face against his chest, biting into his skin through the fabric of his T-shirt to silence yourself, your teeth sinking into him was enough to send him also over the edge, coming with moans against your ear.
That night, you went home with shaking legs and an incoming headache, as Max left with the scraps of your panties in his pocket and your lipstick stain on his shirt, above his chest.
It was the seventh race of the year, Monaco, and you absolutely hated that specific track since your years of F2. During your two first years in F1 you had awful experiences, the rookie year you DNF and the year prior you had barely managed a P7. You were trying to keep your head up, be hopeful that you could at least try for top 5.
But since you couldn’t catch a fucking break, an old video of your teenage years resurfaced.
You were walking to your first round of interviews when Amanda, your PR manager, started walking by your side.
“There’s something. An old video of a karting competition resurfaced, where Max and Charles pretty much call you stupid,” Amanda was always direct, you could give it to her.
“Let me see the video” you asked, offering your hand for her phone.
“We don’t have time, but everyone will ask you about it. I need you to be the bigger person and act like it isn’t important, yes? They will try to taunt you and get a bad reaction from you, I need you to dismiss everything they throw at you. Agreed?”
You sighed. You knew the stuff from your teens were pretty bad, you rarely badmouthed Max or Charles, but they always felt threatened by you, so there were lots of instances they attacked you. Honestly, you just didn’t want to come out of this victimized. So as you entered the first round of interviews, you decided you were going to downplay anything they asked you.
“Y/N, have you seen the footage of you, Max and Charles from your teenage years that resurfaced recently?”
“No, uh, I haven’t.”
Someone pushed an iPad in your hands because of course, they wanted a live reaction from you. You pressed play, reading the subtitles someone put on the video. It was an amateur recording like a post race interview made by another teenage guy. First as Max walked out of the track, the guy asked what he thought of your win.
“It was luck, she’s not bright enough to think of a strategy,” Max said, walking away, clearly pissed having lost to you.
There was a cut and the camera was turned on again when Charles walked toward the guy asking the question. He repeated exactly the same question he had asked Max.
“Y/N, I don’t worry about her long term. She’s not going very far in this sport anyway,” Charles shrugged, seemingly unbothered.
As the video cut again, it showed your face, you remembered when that was. You were 14, and your dad had dropped you a few months earlier, so you were working your ass off balancing school, work and karting.
“Hey, Y/N. What do you think of your result today?”
“Uh, I tried a new strategy I learned earlier this week, thankfully it worked in my favor,” teen-You dried your forehead with your coat’s sleeve.
“What are your plans for this competition?”
“Well, I hope to be good enough to get into F4 next year, and work my way up into Formula 1,” you smiled softly and walked away after a quick bye.
The video ended and you still spent a few seconds staring at the black screen of the iPad. This interview didn’t come to your mind in more than a decade, but it was nice seeing how you made your 14-year-old dream come true.
“So, what do you say?” The reporter extended his mic to you.
“I guess I proved them wrong, right?” You giggled a little, “don’t take it to heart, really. We were all hormonal teenagers, I’m sure if someone digs, they will find a video of me saying the same stuff about them,” you shrugged, despite that being a lie, sounded dismissive enough.
“So it doesn’t upset you?” The reporter insisted, and you knew he wanted a scandal you weren’t willing to give.
“Of course not. I’ve always known my worth, and I’m P1 in the driver’s championship as of right now. So I don’t really care.”
The interviewers soon let the video go, when they realized you didn’t care about it. You weren’t sure if anyone would also approach Charles or Max with questions about the same video, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to avoid drama for the time being so you could focus on the championship instead of this bullshit.
On the morning of qualifying, you were in your room, trying to meditate and clear your mind, when a knock interrupted you.
“Guys, I asked for twenty minutes so I could-” you stop yourself when you realize it isn’t anyone from your team, but it’s Max and Charles, “what are you doing here?”
“We came to apologize about the video,” Max started.
“Did your PR teams send you here?” You looked around, trying to catch a camera or even a phone recording.
“No uh, we realized we were very immature with you, and this video is just proof of how silly that was,” Charles sighed, seemingly embarrassed.
“You don’t need to apologize, I mean- the two of you really had it out for me, you called me dumb a lot,” you pointed to Max, then Charles, “and you called me ugly countless times. I don’t know why it would make any difference now.”
You were just so used to being defensive, to protect yourself from hatred you found it hard to believe them, to give them a chance to apologize because you couldn’t believe it to be genuine.
“Even if you don’t take it, or believe it, I would like to apologize for that behavior. I was just a stupid kid.” Max looked deep into your eyes, which could’ve made you uncomfortable if he didn’t seem so honest.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N. It was too idiotic to be like that to you, growing up. You were just a kid too.” Charles added.
You understood where that apology came from, it was stupid and embarrassing for all three of you this teenage rivalry when you all were barely mid racers back in the day. Sighing, you looked around, dropping your façade for a second, allowing yourself to display the same honesty they showed you.
It was hard and required some sort of deprogramming because you could only see them as rivals, like your dad had whispered in your brain so many times before, like their actions towards you had cemented dad’s words. They had said things that were on your mind for so long, that had made you defensive and deflective.
“Look, don’t worry about it. Whatever happened back then, it’s water under the bridge,” You shifted on your feet. As they started walking away, you added “this doesn’t mean we’re friends.”
They only nodded before leaving. Your routine went back to the same, and as the next scandal went on, people forgot about the silly video, but a very specific part of the fans started shipping you and both your rivals.
The rivalry never died down though.
Then, out of nowhere, Sebastian pulled you and Lewis aside to a conversation. Then he told you that he was going to retire by the end of the season. It was the first time the two of them saw you cry, and Sebastian hugged you tight, shushing your crying softly.
“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, petting your head.
“No, don’t apologize,” you let him go, drying your face, “I have listened to you talking countless times about how you missed the kids. Don’t apologize for choosing to be a great dad. I know Hanna and the kiddos will be ecstatic.”
“You two are my closest friends here, that’s why I wanted to tell you first, before my announcement.”
“Thank you, Seb,” you said, eyes still watering, “I’m going to miss having you around.”
“Thank you for telling us beforehand,” Lewis said, also visibly emotional.
The season was writing itself to be just as close as the year prior, but now you were slightly better at keeping the lead most.
That is until Zandvoort. This GP was always a nightmare to you, because it was full of Max’s fans, and they absolutely hated you for being his rival. You had been booed when you were on the podium the year before, so now, you and Amanda decided it was best to keep your head down during the whole week. Not out of shame, but more of a matter of safety, you didn’t know how far the crowd could go in antagonizing you. When you were booed the other year, Max had said it was part of the sport and dismissed the conversation.
The morning of free practice, you went into the paddock very low-key and kept to yourself. You arrived with a little cup of coffee and got mentally ready for a hostile environment the whole weekend. That, until you spotted a small group of people dressed with your color and wearing your number, waving wildly to you.
In a spur of the moment decision, you went there, getting close to the barrier to sign a few caps and take a few selfies. In retrospect, you knew you shouldn’t have done that, especially with only two bodyguards accompanying you.
You were finishing chatting with your fans when you felt something heavy hit the side of your head and the impact made you stumble backwards, you were confused as you heard the screams and felt one of the bodyguards pull you back, as the other jumped the barrier and started running. You patted your temple and something wet and sticky was dripping down the side of your face. You stared at the small group of fans who were looking at you horrified. Staring at the hand, you saw the red staining your fingers, and as the bodyguard kept pulling you away to somewhere safer, the thing flowed even more and got into your left eye.
You wondered if it was blood as you touched your temple but felt nothing, not a gash nor small cut. You covered your left eye as it started to sting from what you supposed smelt like paint.
“Hey, hey, what happened? You’re bleeding!” Max jogged up to you.
“Not blood, just paint” you muttered, trying to use your coat to clean your face.
“Someone threw a paint ball at her,” the bodyguard said.
“Fuck, it’s burning!” You exclaimed, feeling tears in your left eye.
“Come here, the RB hospitality is close,” Max said, holding your wrist, he stopped shortly pointing to your bodyguard, “and you, sort this and find the person who did it.”
You let yourself be taken by Max into the RB territory, the burning so annoying that you rather take whatever solution he was thinking of. He held your waist and placed you sitting on a sink, and then you felt water streaming down your face.
“Stay still,” Max commanded, holding a hose over your head, pouring water down your face, “now blink slowly, let the water wash it,” his voice soft as you did what he told you to. Slowly but surely, it washed the paint away, relieving your left eye from the stinging. Max held the hose up and held your chin, tilting your head up so he could check your eye, still letting the water stream down your face.
You took a few minutes, breathing and regulating your heartbeat from that scare, trying to come back to normal and understand fully what was going on. From what you gathered, you were chatting with fans when someone else came and threw something with paint at you.
“How does it feel?”
“It’s better, already stopped burning,” you told him, feeling your heart miss a beat at the close proximity you found yourself to him. You were sitting on a sink, Max standing between your legs pretty much like you two had done months before for entirely different reasons.
“Open your eye, let me see,” he asked, and you tried to blink it open, “can you see?”
“It’s a little blurry but I believe it will get better,” you explained, and he didn’t let go of your chin. Suddenly, he covered your right eye with the other hand, leaving you only with your left eye sight.
“How many fingers am I putting up?” He showed it to your left eye. The vision was a bit blurry but you still could make out the shapes very clearly.
“Four, Max. It’s just a little bit blurry, probably will get better in a few minutes” you sounded annoyed, you tried to move but he pressed a hand against your waist, keeping you in place.
“Now, what happened?” He asked finally. You ignored the proximity, and the hand still on your body.
“We’re in Zandvoort, that’s what happened,” you shrugged, really annoyed about it.
“What do you mean?” He was visibly confused. You scoffed because you knew it wasn’t something he didn’t know, since the year before he has dismissed the importance of how hostile people were to you.
“We’re massively surrounded by your fans, Max.”
“I don’t understand.”
“They hate me because you hate me, and they think because you hate me they’re justified in their hostility towards me,” You explained, with a sigh, you pushed away from Max, “this GP has been like this for me ever since Rookie year.”
“I don’t hate you,” he said, brows furrowed.
“You do. And they do too,” you pointed down at the paint that had also stained your shirt as proof.
“I don’t,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes, jumping off the sink, but he didn’t give you space, which made you stand chest to chest with him, “I promise.”
You stared at him, breathless. That wasn’t part of the game you played, being kind, sounding worried and making promises. None of that was part of this whole rivalry. Pushing his chest, you tried getting away but he caged you against the sink, body flush against yours.
“Do you believe me?” He asked and your eyes fell to his lips, and you allowed yourself to remember the desperate and chaotic kisses you had shared in a dimly lit bathroom, “I don’t support any of this behavior.”
You heard voices and steps approaching, which made you finally push him away, walking towards the door. Whatever little magic had been happening between those walls was undone the moment you remembered none of that would’ve happened if he had politely put a stop to it earlier.
“It’s part of the sport and I have to deal with it, right?” You returned the very same words he had said about you when you were booed by the crowd the year prior.
As you opened the door, you were faced with Sebastian. He stopped, taking you in and then pulling you in a hug.
“Are you ok? We just heard what happened!” He murmured, guiding you out of the bathroom. He held your shoulders and looked at your face, checking how your left eye was still a little red, “we should take you to see a doctor, come on.”
Lewis soon arrived at the entrance of the RBR station, he warned about the reporters crowding outside, waiting for a glimpse of you after the attack. The British man gave you a Mercedes coat so you put it over your head and avoid the cameras waiting outside. With the bodyguards and both Lewis and Sebastian leading you away, you ended up at the medical center, and after a quick examination, the doctor gave you eye drops to put throughout the day.
Your Principal suggested you sit the FP1 out, letting the reserve driver take your place while you recovered. By the middle of FP1, your eyesight was 100% and you went to get ready for FP2. The whole day you felt like everyone was being extra careful, tiptoeing around you. You hated feeling like you were being pitied, so when the inevitable round of interviews came, you knew what you had to do.
“We heard about your incident earlier today, how are you feeling about it?” Someone asked.
“I’m pretty upset, to be honest. Formula 1 is a sport loved around the whole world, and the paddock overall is supposed to be a safe place not only for the fans, but also the workers and drivers. What happened today is unacceptable and could’ve been much worse. I’m voicing my dissatisfaction and I intend to, through legal means, take this complaint to the FIA.”
Later that night, as you laid awake on your bed, scrolling through the repercussions of the day, you stopped when you saw a snippet of Max's interview.
“What happened today was dangerous and unacceptable, I don’t support this behavior and I stand with Y/N,” that was all he said, but Max usually was a man of few words, always knowing when it was enough.
You knew he should’ve voiced that much earlier in your career, specifically after the booing the year before, but still- He also could have opted to not say anything at all, and he didn’t.
Amanda also sent you the news that the fan who had attacked you was found and banned for life from Formula 1.
After calling Sebastian, you managed to get ahold of Max’s phone number and texted him a simple message.
Thank you. Twice. - Lioness
The text went to read almost immediately, and the three dots appeared from his side of the screen. You wait, and wait, and wait. And then the dots disappeared, and an answer never came.
After a solid P2 that weekend in Zandvoort, you went home for the summer break. You and your mom had planned to go to Monaco for a little while since you were planning on buying a place there. From there, you and your mom would go all around the French Riviera to enjoy the sea and spend a few days in a spa resort. Then, you would go back home and relax before going to Ibiza for a weekend to meet Lando and his friends to enjoy some partying.
Everything went according to plan, but one day when you came back home after the trip to the French Riviera, you found your mom passed out on the living room floor.
You called an ambulance, quickly taking her into the hospital. Everything was a blur, the tests and scans, your mom still unconscious on a hospital bed, and the results. The results that pulled the floor from under your feet.
Your brain couldn’t fully compute what was said. Cancer Stage 4. Surgery. Palliative care.
The world was muted around you as you sat on a chair in the waiting room, hands shaking when you tried to understand what was happening. You somehow ended up calling the one other person you trust.
“Y/N? What happened?”
“I don’t understand- she just- she just passed out and I thought- but- but they said- palliative care” you try to come up with words.
“Talk to me. Are you sick?” Kimi’s voice is so focused and a little soothing.
“It’s mom”
“Send your location, I’m going there,” that’s all he said.
Waiting for Kimi gave you some sense of purpose, because it’s Kimi. He could fix anything. He fixed your life when you were 14, he can do it again. He would get there and find a way to help. Your mind got so clouded when the word cancer was thrown in the conversation, that you probably missed the part about treatments and- and surgery and stuff.
In your mother’s room there was a comfortable couch where you tried to settle to sleep, but you only spent countless hours awake. You hoped to see the doctor again to try and get him to explain everything for a second time.
You wished you were smart and quick, but no, you just sat there holding onto the hope that Kimi had a way to fix this.
Kimi arrived early the next morning, knocking on the door before entering. You stood up, hugging him tight.
“What happened?”
“It’s pancreatic cancer, they said. We need to see more about surgery and- and treatments.”
You and Kimi found the doctor, who explained again, and in that moment you finally understood what he meant the first time around. She was in a late stage of pancreatic cancer, which was usually a very difficult illness to find before it is too late, due to the placement of the organ in the body and late symptoms. The only options were either to try a very risky surgery and chemo so she could extend her life for around 8 months to a year. Or she could go home to live her last few months the way she wanted.
You begged and cried and bribed and offered every single solution your brain could muster to try and save her. Kimi held you when you fell to the floor, sobbing.
When your mom woke up and you and Kimi told her the diagnosis, she cried too, sobbing in your arms as you tried to hold it together for her sake. It took a couple of days for her to choose to go home. The two of you spent the last days of summer break traveling around the world a bit more, visiting temples and statues, and seeing nature and everything good the world had to offer, going to places motorsport hadn’t taken you to.
Your mom went to every race week from there on, even when she felt especially weak, even when you had to hire a full time medical team for her.
Your focus on the season was solely on the moment between entering the car and leaving the car. You still managed to race like you’ve done before, calm and controlled, with the help of your engineers and team, you still could put the car where you wanted it, paving your way for a solid world championship that year. It was like your brain was seeing racing as the one thing in your life you had full control over, so sometimes you even felt like you and the car were one.
You didn’t tell anyone about her. Though every driver noticed how distant you were, even Charles and Max and the ones that weren’t very close to you noticed how you were only fulfilling your obligations and leaving, you weren’t even celebrating your wins, leaving the fastest you could after a race.
The Singapore GP was tough for you, having to leave your mom home alone with the medical staff and a couple of friends from her book club, since she wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore. Your attention was failing all throughout media day and free practices. Qualifying was shit compared to your performance the rest of the season.
In Q3 you did a reasonable sector 1 and 2 but you messed up sector 3 completely. It was a complete accident when you got in the way of a Ferrari when he was doing his fast lap, and you ended up messing his qualy too. Jace let you know it was none other than Charles Leclerc, who was setting the pace for a pole position. Out of 19 drivers, you had to ruin his lap. In the end, Max got pole, Charles qualified P3 and you qualified P5.
You went through the motions during the post qualifying press. You were about to leave after debriefing, when Charles Leclerc found you on the way to the parking lot. You pulled your coat tighter around yourself protectively as he walked up to you. You were hoping to escape his fury at least until after the race the next day. Before he could even get a word in, you started.
“Look, I know I messed up your pole. I know you won’t believe me, but it wasn’t intentional. I really thought there was no one doing fast laps on the track, I thought everyone was either still doing out laps or in the pits, so when you-”
“Calm down, breathe,” he interrupted you, “I’m not here to fight.”
“No?” You frowned, confused with the kindness in his eyes.
“We know you’re going through something, and I’m sure I’m the last person you want to hear this from, but you’re not alone. And you should really consider talking with someone on the grid. They’re all- we’re all worried about you.”
The words felt alien coming from his mouth, but the gentleness was so comforting you felt a lump in your throat.
“Why do you think I’m not ok?” You muttered trying to sound confident, but your voice failed, betraying you.
“You’re skinny and you look sleep deprived for a few weeks now,” Charles said directly.
“Damn, thanks.”
“I don’t mean it like that, you know it,” he paused, putting both hands on his pockets, “have you been eating?” Your lack of response made him press further, “have you eaten today?”
You pressed your lips together, not wanting to answer that.
“Let’s go, I’ll drive you to the hotel, we’ll stop on the way to grab some food,” Charles gestured to his car, a few meters away. You stood there, shocked as he started walking away, then he stopped looking over his shoulder, “come on, I don’t have all the time in the world.”
As you sat in his Ferrari, Charles put music on and you didn’t do much talking, but it was tranquil. He called the restaurant to order take out on the way, and 30 minutes later he dropped you off at the hotel with a bag full of food.
“Thank you, Charles.” You whispered before leaving the car.
You ate the food while on a video call with your mom.
You recovered well during the race, finishing P2, behind Max and ahead of Charles.
Your mom passed away a few days after the Japanese Grand Prix, the one you had won and dedicated it to her from the top step of the podium, even if she wasn’t there, just watching from home. You went home and stayed with her, holding her hands and hugging her as much as you could.
Some part of you knew she was somehow fighting, because she had promised you the year before she would be there when you became world champion. You could see she was hoping to make it to the end of the season, but you also knew she wouldn’t, and you rather she didn’t have to endure any more pain just for your sake.
“You don’t need to fight anymore, ma,” you whispered before she went to sleep, “you raised a strong woman, too. I will see you on the other side, ok? You can rest now, I love you.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey. I love you to the moon and back.”
You made it through her small funeral, following what she had written down before passing. An intimate funeral, full of flowers and a toast to her life. You cried the whole time, with Kimi and Minttu taking turns at comforting you as they could. Coming back to an empty home smelling of cleaning products made you almost lose your mind, and the sight of you in such despair was enough for Kimi to convince you to stay with them until you had to travel for the next race, in almost seven days.
The days passed in a crying blur, you let part of your team know about your mom’s passing. Only Amanda, Jace and your Principal. Jace tried to convince you to take a break and not go to the next race in Austin, but you quickly shut it off. Not only because racing was the one thing keeping you sane amidst the chaos, but because you were so close to the championship, and it was still close competition with Max and Charles, so you couldn’t afford to lose a race and the points that could come with it.
You had to honor your mom in some way.
That’s how you ended up on a plane to Austin with Kimi and Amanda. You knew Kimi had convinced you to let him go because he was sure you’d have a mental breakdown anytime along the weekend, but deep down you appreciated the company. Arriving there, Jace was the first to hug you and whisper his condolences, as well as your TP too.
You survived the entire weekend without breaking down crying in public, but that was your worst race in a few months, the first time out of a podium since Spa. You ended up P5, which luckily wasn’t too bad because Max finished P4 which you were grateful for as he was the one who was P2 in the driver’s championship close behind you.
After that week, you packed your stuff and moved to the new condo in Monaco you had bought during summer break. Despite loving your mom to pieces, you couldn’t manage to live alone in the house you bought for her a couple of years before, it was lonely and it hit you with overwhelming waves of sadness all the time. You distracted yourself a lot with buying furniture and decorations for the new place, and discovering Monte Carlo in a whole new way. The one comfort in all that, was knowing your mom wasn’t suffering anymore.
Then you went straight to Mexico for the next Grand Prix, this time, Kimi left you because he had to come home to Minttu and the kids. Amanda had been such a support for you, that you knew you had to give her something special for the holidays, out of gratitude.
Everything was going as expected until the press conference. You were there with Charles, Max, Sebastian and Lando. You suspected they were putting you always in the same group as Max and Charles because, as the season nearing the end, only three races left, they were your close competition.
While someone asked something of Charles, you were whispering with Sebastian, chatting about Mexican foods you wanted to try after the race. Then, something bizarre happened, and phones started to ping all around the room, between reporters, cameras and everyone else started checking their phones. It seemed like something out of a black mirror nightmare.
You reached for your phone but then remembered you left it to charge in your room.
“This question is for Y/N,” a reporter asked, reading something from his phone, “there’s a new article that just came out saying your mom passed away a couple of weeks ago, is that true?”
Your blood ran cold, and every sound felt like it was muted inside the room. Wide eyed, you searched for Amanda, who was somewhere on the opposite side of the room, and when you found her, she was pale. Then, there was a cacophony of voices and cameras and questions, that made you suddenly overwhelmed.
Swallowing, trying to reassess, you found Sebastian already standing, holding your shoulders. Looking around you noticed how the other three drivers had stood up, making some sort of shield around you, protecting you from the cameras and reporters swarming around.
“We can go, ok? Come on,” Sebastian was saying when Amanda caught up to you, leaning beside Sebastian.
“We can leave, right now,” she said, holding your hand.
Still a little confused, you nodded and let them both guide you back to your room.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Sebastian hugged you, running his hands on your back for comfort.
“How- how did they find out?” You ask Amanda.
“An article came out, I’m not sure. Someone was probably digging into your life, but don’t worry, I put the team on it already.”
“How do- how we diffuse this? How do we proceed? We need to address this, right?” You started blabbering, trying to wrap your head around everything.
“That was very disrespectful of them to ask like that!” Sebastian exclaimed, making you two jolt.
“We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Do you want me to release a note asking for privacy?” Amanda suggested.
“Can I write something and then run it by you?” You asked, she only nodded.
After a moment, both Amanda and Seb left you alone as you typed a note on your phone. You rewrote and deleted a few times before settling on something heartfelt and respectful but also, calling out the invasion of privacy.
My mom passed away a few days ago after battling with cancer for the past few months.
She had requested of me to keep it a secret until after the season was over, so I could mourn her without the weight of racing over my shoulders.
But obviously someone went digging and disrespected not only one of her last wishes but also disrespected my grief and my right to privacy. I love my mom but I’ll not be answering any more questions about her illness or death, please respect me and respect her memory.
All the love, Y/N
Nobody asked anything over the weekend, but again, it felt like everyone was tiptoeing around you. As soon as you first saw Nano the next day, he held you tight for almost a minute whispering his condolences, and it made you almost cry again. Lewis also spared you a hug, saying if you ever needed anything, to contact him.
You survived that weekend, and decided to go straight to Brazil for the next GP instead of going back to Monaco. In São Paulo you mostly slept your worries and fears away. You had promised yourself to try and focus on the season only, to make your dream come true, to fulfill your mom’s promise in some way.
With Ferrari’s bad strategy in Mexico, they had ruined Charles’ chance at the championship. Now your only competition was Max and the Red Bull rocketship.
You rewatched the race a couple of times as you usually did, to try and catch any mistakes you or your team may have made, to fix it for the next one. But also to try and notice any weaknesses of your rivals, if it was something you could use in your own favor.
You noticed right away in the FP1 that your car wasn’t adhering to the track, you were losing balance and needed more force than usual to keep yourself in place. By FP2, you managed to control your car better, but that caused your tyres to wear off way more quickly.
Quali was one of the shittiest you’ve ever done in your career, taking you out in Q2 for the first time that year, placing you for a start at P12.
“Listen, we’ll do better tomorrow, ok?” Jace told you as soon as you entered the garage, seeing Max still out with a shot at pole position.
“Give me a few minutes to unwind, please,” you asked, dropping your helmet, balaclava and gloves at a nearby table.
You went straight to your room, searching for your phone. Immediately calling Kimi, you waited for him to pick up.
“I watched it,” he said first and foremost.
“If I do bad in the race tomorrow, and Max does well, then I’m gonna lose the championship, Kimi,” saying that out loud made you shiver in horror, “FUCK!” You screamed, kicking a chair.
“First of all, even if you did bad tomorrow, you’d still have a chance to fight for the championship in Abu Dhabi. You know that,” Kimi warned you as if he was scolding a little kid, “second of all, I never taught you this loser mindset. You’ll have to find a way to work around the problems in your car tomorrow.”
“Shit, I’m so fucked! How? How could I even-”
“Remember when I first met you? Your kart was with almost this same problem, yeah? Remember you got P2? You went ahead and fixed it. That’s what I need you to do tomorrow, don’t focus on what you can’t do, only focus on what you can do.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“No trying. Do it.”
After spending the entire night crafting plan A, B, C and Z with you strategists and engineers, you barely got any sleep, but you forced yourself to rest. In the morning, you went to the track early to meet with your team again, to run your strategies one more time, when you had an idea. You’d still follow the plans you had carefully crafted with the team, but you decided to make a Plan Star, as you had called. Interlagos didn’t have any safety car in the last two years, so it was dangerous to fully count on one. But your plan star consisted in the case of a safety car in this one specific window of laps, you’d go to the pits for hards, counting on everyone else being on old softs or mediums at that specific point in the race. But for it to work, you had to be the first of the front field to go in.
As the lights went out and you accelerated, you got already three positions up, landing in P9, and luckily, the points zone. Jace was worried in your ears, talking about the car and the tyres management. With controlled calm and Kimi’s voice in your head, you managed a few more positions in the first 14 laps, landing P7. You lost a bit of time there, since Nando was P6 and everyone knew how tough it always is to overtake him. But you eventually managed to get the position. Unfortunately, it was the moment you had to go to your first pitstop. Due to the problems in your car wearing off your tyres, you would have to go for a two-stop, which ended up costing you three positions again. But you were patient and you were rewarded when the other cars had to pit, which gave you back the four places you had lost.
The race you went on and you barely moved up or down from your P5, but you managed to concentrate.
Jace, on the other hand was sounding more and more worried about your second pit stop, about the difficulty in get closer to P4, about the P6 trying to enter DRS zone behind you, with your tyres wearing off, with the-
“Jace, I love you but please shut the fuck up, I know what to do,” you were praying for a miracle when suddenly, there was a yellow flag, and the safety car went out during the perfect window of laps, “fuck, Jace, this is plan star.”
“Copy,” he paused, his voice sounding secure, “Box, box.”
You changed into hards, no one else went to the pits, and the race restarted after three more laps. The safety car had closed the gap between you and the P4, which made you overtake him easily.
Jace was still keeping quiet to help your concentration, he only interrupted to warn you about overheating your tyres, and your velocity per lap compared to the next position. You started overtaking like a madwoman as much as your tyres allowed.
“That’s P1, Lioness,” Jace told you.
“Copy that.” You said with your voice shaken.
As you managed your P1, you went back to be aware of your surroundings, seeing a Red Bull right behind you, trying to overtake but you managed to hold position.
When you took the checkered flag, you sighed with relief, Kimi was right.
“Congratulations, Y/N! That’s a brilliant, brilliant win!” Jace’s voice was sounding shaken too.
“You’re crying, Jace?” You laughed softly.
“It’s an honor to tell you that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a Formula 1 world champion!” Jace shouts, and behind him you can hear more people screaming.
“What? Jace you’re fucking with me!”
“No, Lioness, you’re the 2022 champion of the world!”
“But- but how? There’s one race left? And Max was right behind me!”
“No, Verstappen DNFed during that one yellow flag. Behind you was Perez.”
You made the calculations quickly in your head. Max was P2 in the championship, but this DNF meant no points, and even if he managed to win the last race in Abu Dhabi, he wouldn’t be able to equal you in points. So-
“OH MY GOD, oh my god!” You screamed your lungs out, feeling the tears streaming down into your balaclava, “Fuck yes! I’m Formula 1 World Champion! Thank you, thank you so much guys! Jace, holy shit, I’m the champion!”
“You’re the champion!” Jace confirmed.
You felt joy in a way you hadn’t felt in a long, long time, as you stopped your car on the number one spot. Still a little dizzy from the thrill, you left the car, going straight to your team, heavily waiting for you. They all hugged you, hitting your helmet, saying congratulations and everything. You took a moment to hug Jace and Amanda, who had been of great support throughout the year.
After getting weighted and being congratulated by the other two on the podium, Perez and Hamilton, the latter hugging you tight as he took you off the floor, you drank water as you waited for the post race interview with Nico Rosberg.
You were giddy, barely holding yourself together with how happy you were feeling, how you wanted to hold the trophy, how grateful you were and more importantly, how you felt a great weight being lifted off your shoulders.
“Y/N, congratulations on becoming a World Champion! I have to say, as a girl dad, it is great to see you become the first woman ever to win this title. How do you feel? What do you want to say?” Nico offered, with a kind smile.
“To be honest, I can barely contain myself. It’s such an honor to be here and be the world champion. I look at the past and see my younger self who never thought would make it to Formula 1. It’s such a dream come true, after this year’s hardships, I’m glad to achieve the greatest dream of them all!” You said, kinda quickly, rambling as you tried to put into words all the emotions mixed with the happiness, “I’m sorry, I know I’m taking up all your time, I just want to dedicated this win, and this championship to three people who saved my life: Kimi, thank you for being the salvation of my career when we first met; And my mom, who’s not here anymore, thank you for being the light in my darkest days. And lastly, I want to thank myself for working my ass off and never giving up.”
You muttered a thank you as Nico only laughed at your rambling. Before you moved to the cooldown, you grabbed the mic back again.
“May I add one last thing?” You asked for Nico, who only nodded, pointing to the camera again, “This is to my father: I made it, you asshole.”
You wanted to send the middle finger too, but you knew you couldn’t because of the FIA’s guidelines, and you were already risking a penalty for cursing on live TV. In the cooldown room, you sat beside Lewis, watching a few highlights of the race on the screen. It showed a couple of your overtakes.
“Damn, you overtook like crazy,” Lewis muttered, seemingly amazed.
“I pulled a Lewis Hamilton in Interlagos last year,” you joked, and he laughed.
That podium felt like the culmination of everything you had worked for your whole life, felt like recovering your love for the sport for what it was, for the fast cars and the adrenaline. Being on that podium in Brazil as a World Champion shifted something inside you forever. During your anthem, you laughed, and when you got the trophy, you cried, pointing the trophy to the sunny sky with a silent prayer to your mom. You barely noticed, but you felt the champagne raining on you, and opened your arms to shower in it. Putting the trophy down, you splashed the other bottle, laughing and wetting everyone that was close to you, Lewis, Checo, Jace, who had gone up representing the team.
When the celebration ended, you stayed behind a little more, watching the crowd from the podium, and they started chanting. It took you a few seconds to realize they were chanting your name.
You raised your trophy at them, and they cheered even louder. Then you pointed it to the sky again.
“Look, ma, I made it” you whispered to yourself, feeling the tears streaming down your face.
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THINK I FORGOT, HOW TO BE HAPPY.
⤷ what was I made for? | something i’m made for
જ⁀➴ synopsis: after hanging out with Suguru's friends, you head home and can't wait to bury it down like you always do. But when your boyfriend insists on knowing what upset you, the night takes a turn for the worst.
જ⁀➴ word count: 2,8k
જ⁀➴ content warning: fem!reader, hurt/no comofrt, angst, fights, suguru is a little mean and says mean shit but reader isn’t any better.
જ⁀➴ note: sorry for the long wait, i'm struggling to work on many things at once. but a huge thank you for showing the first part so much love! it was truly unexpected.
ʚ⁺˖ ⤷ tag list: @error404-tryagain @fiannee @anarosextodo @ayeputita (couldn't tag everyone for some reason, my bad!)
⤷ comments and reblogs are much appreciated!
Suguru remembers when he first fell in love with you, how his face felt warm when you wrapped your arms around him and told him to have a safe trip, the little bag of goodies you had prepared for him sitting atop of his suitcase. He remembers pulling you into a deep kiss in the middle of a crowded airport, and he wasn’t a huge fan of PDA, has never been—but something about you caring for him, preparing food for his flight and showing up as he was about to board made his heart leap out of his chest.
Your first I love you to each other was shared when you realized you couldn’t handle being away from each other for longer than a day. You move in together shortly after he returns from his travel.
You don’t remember when you started to feel out of place, but it makes its way up and towards the back of your head like a parasite—your emotions were always too much for anyone to handle. You recently had a breakdown over messing up at work, and you’ve never seen Suguru look more lost than when he tried to comfort you. His eyebrows are furrowed in concern, he looks defeated when you refuse to let him touch or hug you. You were a mess, and he couldn’t do anything about it.
When you do calm down and are finally able to breathe properly, your brain flashes you little moments from your breakdown like a flashback—almost as though to shame and embarrass you for the way you behaved, all while your perfect boyfriend looks defeated at your lack of cooperation. You’re not sure if it is true, you hope that it’s not—but you see Suguru sit at the edge of the bed and bury his face in his hands and he curses under his breath. He looks tired.
It’s because of me.
When Suguru notices that your breakdowns become less frequent, he is convinced that you are slowly working towards getting better, praises and showers you with compliments. This is the Suguru you always want to see, full of life and love and not the one you saw that night.
And so you decide that from now on, Suguru wasn’t made to see you at your lowest.
--
Dinner ends an hour later and you almost run out of the restaurant and towards the car. Suguru is quick to join you, and from the corner of your eyes, you see Gojo standing near his car and his eyes are staring into your soul. You were grateful that he didn’t tell your boyfriend about the bathroom incident. You confided in the male at such a vulnerable moment and you would’ve been pretty upset if he went against your wishes.
You’re as quiet as ever as Suguru starts the car and drives away. You’re mindful of the way you sit not to face Suguru, and decide on letting him pick the songs to play on the way back. And your boyfriend doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re avoiding him like the plague, after all this wasn’t the first time you were eerily quiet on the way back home. But you were wrong.
Suguru watches you as you walk inside your shared apartment and remove your shoes. You’re not wearing any specific expression indicating that you might be upset. After all, you did have a habit of frowning as a resting face. But it feels different as you quietly greet your cat with a head pat, choosing to head to the kitchen first since you knew Suguru would go to the bathroom for a quick shower.
You were avoiding him.
“Did I do something?” Your boyfriend watches as you halt your movements, the glass of water in your hand long forgotten as you stare at him wide eyed, like a deer caught in headlights.
“Huh?”
“You’re avoiding me, did something happen?” Suguru tries to remember the night you spent outside. He has no clear memory of saying or doing something that you might’ve tipped you over the edge, so what was wrong? You were never this quiet.
“I’m fine, Sugu. You didn’t do anything.” The smile you flash him does anything but reassure him. You ignore the frown that sits on his face and you turn around, your back facing him as you try to busy yourself with something—anything, but facing the man you called your boyfriend.
“Then why are you acting so distant?” So he was able to pick up on it. You hoped that he wouldn’t be able to, maybe breaking up with him would be much easier that way. You are quiet as ever as you turn around and walk toward the fridge.
You were distant because Suguru wasn’t supposed to see you like this, he wasn’t supposed to know how much of an insecure mess you were when he was around, how you were desperately trying to get him to fall out of love. You can barely say I love you to him without feeling guilty about it. Did you truly deserve his love? It felt like he was wasting his time on someone as miserable as you.
“I am not distant, just tired.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, you were tired. You wanted to sleep so badly, wanted to drown the lingering thoughts of never feeling enough as Suguru’s girlfriend, but feeling whole and complete when you are yourself outside of your relationship. This was a you problem, and dragging Suguru down with you felt a little unfair.
“You were crying in the restaurant.” Your heart stills at this. “But you lied and said you were fine.”
“Did Satoru—“
“Satoru doesn’t know you better than I do.” His tone is sharp, and you’re taken aback by the harsh way he chooses to address you. Was this about to escalate into something else? You didn’t want it to, you didn’t have the energy to fight back and tell him to choose his tone carefully. You might’ve been the easy-going, kind girlfriend—but you weren’t going to tolerate disrespect from his part.
“You’re right, he doesn’t.” You sound almost defeated, and you put your glass in the sink before wiping your hands on the towel. Suguru stands near the kitchen island, and watches you with cat-like eyes. You were barely looking his way, the dark circles under your eyes prominent despite your effort at covering them up with make-up. When did Suguru start paying less attention to you? Or did you simply never allow him to see you like this, vulnerable and exhausted. His heart aches in his chest.
“So you won’t tell me?” You’re about to walk away when he decides to speak, and you heave out a long sigh when you realize that the night was taking a turn for the worst.
“Tell you what?” You mumble under your breath, and you refuse to meet Suguru’s cold eyes. You can feel them on your skin, they’re intense and trying to read you like a book. Perhaps if you don’t look his way, his stare would feel less intimidating.
“Would you please just stop?” Suguru rests his elbows on his the surface of the kitchen island, burying his face in his hands. “I’m really trying to figure out what’s wrong, and you’re not helping.”
“Maybe because I don’t want to tell you what’s wrong.” Your response comes out almost immediately, and the frustration you’ve been suppressing all night suddenly resurfaces. Months of trying to play it cool, sweeping your insecurities under the rug and hoping that a kiss from Suguru would fix all of your problems, it was all piling up into this huge bubble. And the more persistent your boyfriend was, the harder it was to stay quiet.
“What do you mean you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong?” Suguru’s voice is a little bit louder, and he’s almost in disbelief at your words. You were dating, you slept on the same bed, ate on the same table and cuddled on the same couch. You weren’t a girl he started dating last month, or a person he was testing out the waters with—you weren’t even a potential lifetime partner, but he was almost certain that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
“Because it’s useless to whine to you about shit you don’t need to know. My problems are mine, you don’t have to fix me.” You feel yourself shake a little the more you speak, your heart is beating fast at the realization that this was a conflict—you were creating a conflict and it felt suffocating.
“Fix you—who said I have to fix you?”
“Right, no one did—Suguru, just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But I do.” His tone is sharp, and his hands are curled up in fists. His eyes are staring you down the same way he looks at strangers—threatening, cold and mean. You find yourself tearing up and it makes you feel stupid. You started this, you’re the one who doesn’t feel enough in the relationship—you’re the one being mean, and yet a single look from Suguru has you almost bursting into tears? Pathetic. You felt pathetic and weak, and the longer your boyfriend stared at you, the harder it was to maintain a normal breathing pattern.
“Suguru, I don’t want to talk about it.” You try again, and you hope that your voice doesn’t betray and breaks. Tonight has been exhausting enough, and the thought of having to speak up what has been on your mind for months now makes your chest feel incredibly tight.
“You’re being selfish.”
Selfish? You were being selfish?
You stare at Suguru in disbelief and he immediately realizes how badly he must’ve fucked up because the tears start falling down your cheeks almost instantly. You, who has been pushing her feelings to the side for the sake of his happiness, were selfish? You, who can’t even remember the last time you were truly happy about something, were selfish? This is bullshit.
“I’m selfish?” Your chin quivers pathetically, and Suguru is quick to reach a hand towards you to hold you, but you flinch away from his hold, arms wrapped you to give yourself the comfort Suguru wanted to give you.
“I am selfish, me?!” Your voice is getting louder, but you didn’t care. All the frustration, all the sadness and insecurities were all coming up to the surface because of one single comment.
“Baby, I didn’t—“
“Don’t call me that, don’t you fucking dare touch me!” You move away when he attempts to hold you. “I’m selfish because I don’t wanna tell my perfect boyfriend with his perfect personality about my shitty problems. That’s just fucking great, isn’t it?”
The last time Suguru saw you like this was months ago and he doesn’t even realize it until now. All those times where you would brush off something that would normally set you off, give him a tight lipped smile and tell him not to worry.
“Your problems aren’t shitty, you don’t even want to talk about them!”
“Because every time I tried, it felt like I was robbing you of your fucking happiness, Suguru!” Your voice is loud. “Every time I realized that my mood was ruined, I could only think of how you must be fed up with me.”
“But I’m not? I never even said that I was fed up!” Suguru’s body language completely changes, and suddenly he’s not even trying to comfort you. More so understand where all of this was coming from.
“Your face says it all and fuck--” You groan into your face, your cheeks flushed from frustration.
“Oh so now it’s my face?” You raise your head to stare at him. “One moment you’re saying it’s how I behave, but now it’s all in my face?”
“You’re missing the whole point, Suguru—“
��No, I’m not missing anything! You are the one who created this situation, you’re the one who decided to pull away!” Each word feels like a knife being stabbed into your heart. You stare at the man who usually gives you warm, sweet smiles and all of that is replaced with a cold angry look.
“Suguru—“
“Selfish. Yeah, actually I don’t take it back. You are selfish,”
“Stop.” your lips quivers.
“Because if you actually wanted this to work out, you would tell me what’s wrong instead of finding excuses.”
“You’re being mean, Sugu.”
Your boyfriend groans out of frustration and leans against the kitchen counter. You stand still next to the fridge, tears streaming down your face. You try to stop and wipe them away, but it feels as though you really needed this more than anything.
“I want to take a break.” You say quietly and Suguru’s head snaps up almost immediately.
“What?”
“I want to take a break from this—from you, I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
Instead of giving you a proper reply, Suguru storms out of the kitchen and grabs his jacket and car keys and is out of the house in less than a minute. You are frozen in your spot as you let the words you just uttered out loud sink in, and there’s a sense of guilt. You are pulling away from your relationship, you’re willingly taking a break and not looking back, but does it matter anymore?
This was by far your biggest fight with your boyfriend, and the way he stormed out at the mention of taking a break makes you want to crawl in a hole and die. But not anymore.
You can’t even remember the last time you were happy, and for it to go on for so long was so draining and tiring. You could barely recognize yourself anymore. Your feet take you towards your shared bedroom with Suguru and you start packing some of your stuff. Whether he agrees to the break or not is not important, because you were doing this for yourself. And if Suguru truly cared about you, he would let you do what is best for you.
--
Suguru didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from you and as soon as possible. The roads are empty, and he isn’t driving recklessly. In fact, he’s probably driving so slowly that it would look suspicious to anyone on the outside.
He parks the car on the side of the road and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. When did it turn into this? When did he become so absorbed in his personal life that he stopped including you or care for you? Suguru doesn’t want to blame himself, but it’s a little difficult. He thought he was living this picture perfect life with you, under one roof with a single pet and future plans ahead of you. But to fuck up this badly and call you selfish simply because you were struggling on your own was horrible.
And to make things worse, he stormed out of the house and left you there all alone. He groans into his hands.
“Fuck.” He wants to fix this. He doesn’t want a break, he doesn’t think that it’s necessary. But you looked serious about it, maybe he could talk you out of it.
He grabs his phone and dials your number, and when it takes a while for you to pick up he just knows that you must’ve been contemplating whether or not you wanted to take the call. Eventually, you do answer.
“I’m sorry,” the line on your side is quiet, so he continues. “I fucked up, I don’t think I should’ve said what I said and—“
“It’s not your fault.” Your nose is stuffed, but Suguru can tell from the tone of your voice that you were tired. “But I need some space, Suguru.”
Some space… So you were considering the break.
“We can work it out, we don’t have to take a break or anything, we can go on a date tomorrow morning and—“
“I called a cab, I’m going back to my place.” You cut him off, and Suguru hears you lock the door to his apartment. “I’m doing this for myself and for us,” Suguru closes his eyes when he realizes that there was truly no hope in talking you out of it.
“Okay… can I still text you?”
“No,” you reply quietly. “I don’t wanna think about you for a while.” He tries not to feel hurt but it’s difficult.
“I understand.” The line goes quiet for a while, and Suguru hears a few sniffles from your side and sighs.
“We’ll be okay, yeah?”
“Yeah,” You wipe a few tears. “I have to go now.”
“I love you.” Suguru waits for a response, and when you take too long to answer, his chest tightens a little.
“Take care, Sugu.”
2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.
#moon's works#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen imagine#geto x reader#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen suguru#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#geto x you#jjk angst#geto angst
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Omg please please please write another fic about needy cry baby gf and Toji 😫🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽
thinking abt him not realizing when he’s being mean because he grew up in a house full of boys where insults were a form of affection :( we’ve all got a little bit of crybaby reader in us me finks
content: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff
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a sea of limbs dance and weave around the court with intricacies you won’t even pretend to understand, leaving you more confused with each passing minute.
you remind yourself that you’re here for toji, wanting to spend more time with him regardless of whether you were into the activity.
toji liked it, so you liked it. at least before the game got confusing.
“that was two points, right?” you ask him, trying to make sense of the shot a player had just made.
toji pauses, holding the chilled end of his beer can to the back of his neck.
“three, baby.” he corrects, kicking his work boots off. the older man relaxes into the soft embrace of the couch with a groan, propping his feet up on the ottoman.
“right… right.” you realize, listening as the announcer gives a rundown of what just happened. you look over and gauge his expression, searching for any acknowledgment of what you’d just said.
“sorry, not really a basketball fan.” you joke, hoping to alleviate the awkward air.
“not that smart either, huh?” toji chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.
your stomach drops at the comment. blood rushes to your ears as humiliation takes over, eyes welling up with hot tears.
you knew he was 100% joking. that’s just how toji was around the people he loved.
you were being too sensitive, right?
the two of you had discussed instances like this before, the older man explaining that that was truly just how he spoke to people.
he never meant to upset you, in fact he’d rather hang than ever hurt you on purpose. his words, not yours.
toji has promised you he was working on it, trying to choose his words more carefully around you.
that’s all it was, you tell yourself. a simple slip of the tongue.
or was he truly mad at you this time?
nope. just a joke. you tell yourself, fiddling with a loose thread in your sleeve to distract from the lump in your throat. you try to inhale around the blockage, accidentally releasing a sob that alerts toji right away.
“hey.” he mumbles, setting his drink down to look at you. calloused hands cradle your face as the older man takes a close look at you.
you pull away, trying to compose yourself. just a joke! you remind yourself.
a joke, not serious. just. a. joke.
“nonono, hey it’s okay.” he whispers, eyes blowing wide as he realizes the gravity of the situation.
“i’m sorry sweetheart, i’m sorry.” he pleads, muting the tv to focus on you.
“m’ not stupid.” you whimper, wiping each eye with the back of your hand.
“course not pretty girl.” he whispers, rubbing your back in soft circles. “i’m sorry, you know that’s j—“
“just how you talk.” you mumble, not sure if his explanation actually made it ok.
“but.” he starts, pulling you into his lap with a grunt.
“that’s not an excuse, right?” he asks you, clearly remorseful.
“need to watch my mouth around my girl, huh?” he chuckles, still rubbing small circles up and down your back.
“it’s ok.” you conclude, resting your head on his shoulder as he presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead.
“hate making you upset.” he tells you firmly, nuzzling into the crown of your head.
“you wanna watch something else?” he asks, placing the remote in your hand. “movie, youtube?”
you crawl out of the older man’s lap and onto the couch, pulling up prime to scan the comedy section.
“i fucking hate basketball.” you giggle, the man beside you breaking out in full blown laughter as you press play on the remote.
#adah’s asks#toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen#toji fluff#toji drabbles#toji hcs#toji x reader fluff#toji x reader angst#toji x reader hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort#toji x fem reader#toji x fem reader flufd#jjk#zenin toji#toji zenin#zenin toji x reader
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Jungkook
𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot
"Does he even pay you?"
Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings
Length: 7k+ words
There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.
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"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.
"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.
You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.
Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.
Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.
While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!
The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.
Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.
He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.
"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.
Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.
Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.
He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.
'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'
'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'
'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'
You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.
You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.
He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.
Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.
Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.
Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.
He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.
He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.
"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.
"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"
"I know." You admit quietly.
"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."
"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.
"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.
"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.
You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.
Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.
When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.
It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.
Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.
He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.
He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?
People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.
"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.
He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.
Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.
His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.
"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.
Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.
He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.
You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?
Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.
He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.
He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.
"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.
"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.
What is your job, really?
Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.
It's good money. A hobby you cherish.
Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.
You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?
Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?
You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.
"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.
"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.
"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.
"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.
"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?
"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.
"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.
"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.
You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.
You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-
who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.
"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.
"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.
It will. Sadly.
"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.
No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.
He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.
Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.
When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.
The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.
"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.
"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.
"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.
"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.
So that's the reason?
"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.
"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.
"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.
"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.
"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.
"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."
"How?" You ask baffled.
"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.
"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.
Suddenly, he wants you out the room.
Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?
Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?
"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.
"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.
"Cool." You say.
"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.
"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.
"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.
"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.
"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.
"No." You deny.
"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.
"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."
"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.
"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.
"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.
"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.
"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.
"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.
"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.
"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.
"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.
"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.
"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.
"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.
"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.
"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.
"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.
"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.
"Not really." You deny.
"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.
"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.
"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.
"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.
"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."
"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.
"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.
He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.
"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.
"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.
"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.
"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.
"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."
"..feel how much I love you."
You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.
"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.
"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.
"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."
"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.
"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.
"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.
"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.
"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.
"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.
"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.
"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.
"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.
"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.
"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.
"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.
"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.
"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.
"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.
"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.
"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.
"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.
You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.
And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.
And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-
promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#bts smut#bts jungkook imagine#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#bts jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagines#jungkook imagines
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she's all that [slytherin version]
pairing - theodore nott x fem!reader.
summary - a relationship that started off as a surprise can't mean something good. especially when you're involved with a slytherin.
warnings - angst, grammar and vocabulary mistakes.
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a/n: I AM NOT A HARRY POTTER FAN, but i do like theodore nott, so if i got smth wrong, don't come at me. i wrote this very fast, so it may be rushed :) this idea has been stuck in my mind for days, so i hope you enjoy. i will be not writing part2 and this will be my only fic about the harry potter universe!
theodore's fingers gently brushed up and down y/n's thigh while she was observing the scene in front of her.
teenagers from all the houses dancing. sweat and alcohol filling the air, the beat of the music pounding in the girl's ears. this was unusual for her, for both of them, to attend a crowded party. the couple would rather spend time alone, but they had promised their friends, well, mattheo and draco, since they were so eager to come.
y/n sighed and layed her head on her boyfriend's neck as the girl's fingers played with the hair at the back of his neck.
"you okay?" he whispered.
"mhm."
his lips pressed a kiss on her forehead, which made the smile on y/n's face grow even more.
she continued to lay in silence while theo chatted with mattheo and blaise, who were satted at the same table.
"i think y/n needs to play some beer pong or else she'll fall asleep," mattheo spoke.
"are you so desprete to lose?" the girl gave him a small smile.
"don't be so sure of yourself, y/n/n," the boy grinned.
she opened her mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted, "heyyy guyyyss," a drunk draco appeared in front of the table.
blaise scrunched his nose, "fucking hell, how much did you drink?"
but the question was left hanging as draco pulled out some money from his pocket, "beforew i fodget, hers the money you wonn."
theodore tensed, and his hand stopped on his girlfriend's thigh as he looked at the money. y/n furrowed her eyebrows, "you won a game or something?"
"it's nothing serious."
"c'mon bro," draco smiled, "give yourself some credut, yao got the girl on thhe hook!"
mattheo grumbled, "draco."
the girl turned her head to her boyfriend, "what's he talking about?"
theodore just gave her a small, tight smile, "he's just drunk," he kissed her cheek while slightly squeezing her thigh, "let's just go, you need some rest."
"theo, man, just ttake the money," the blonde boy put it on the table in front of him, "you compuleted the bet, consgrats."
y/n stiffened, when she felt the air tense around, "what bet?" her eyes were still locked on her boyfriend, "theo, what is he talking about?"
"just forget about it, bella."
draco started speaking, "tell her, don't bse a skank," he looked at the girl, "we made a bet, about the-
the boy beneath her tensed, "malfoy."
"theodore sleesping with yoou, we actually never thought that he'd succeeds, but look at our boyey."
y/n's heart stopped. she actually stopped breathing.
theodore nott was known as the player, but when he approached her, she never thought that it was for bad intentions. the girl was shocked, of course, that the famous theodore nott had interest in her, but never in her wildest dreams did she think that he would do such a horrible thing.
when they both arrived at hogwarts, they became good friends, but when he started hanging out with the slytherin group, he just disappeared and forgot about the girl. completely ignoring her. living his new life.
but years later in potions, when he came up to her with the question "do you want to be partners for the project?" with that slight smirk of his and those beautiful eyes, she never thought that he, theodore nott, would do that. y/n was happy that maybe she would get her friend back. at the end of the day she was just a girl who saw the best in others.
sooner or later, that would lead her to be shattered, like right now, when she felt her heart break.
"cara mia," theodore started, but the girl just removed herself from his lap, standing up.
her eyes landed on mattheo, who couldn't look at her, "you knew?"
silence.
after becoming closer with nott she befriended mattheo riddle, but as time went by, he became one of her best friends. but now staring at him, y/n realized it was all a lie.
she felt theodore gaze her arm, "y/n, let me explain," but she pulled it away, starting to walk away.
draco smiled, "heeey, no hard feelingss, it was jusft for fun."
but she ignored him while walking towards the exit.
this happened in films. in books. god, she was so naive. all those looks, all those late night talks, the way he ressured her when she felt low, the way he held her when she felt blue. the touches. kisses. secrets. the "i love you." it was all a show.
tears started to appear in her eyes, but she tried to hold them in. the girl wouldn't cry. not because of her stupidity, not because of him.
she heard the doors behind her slam shut while a voice was trying to get her attention, "y/n, please, let me explain."
he ran closer, "i swear it's not like that, i love you," he reached for her hand, "y/n, i swear it was a mist-"
the girl spun around, "were you involved with other girls while all this was going on?" she looked into his eyes.
"bella-"
"yes or no?"
but he didn't reply and she knew the answer. y/n bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to break in front of him, "you know what hurts the most? knowing that if the bet wasn't made, you would have never talked to me and still kept ignoring me, like the past two years."
"y/n, please-"
"fuck off, nott," and just like that she left him in the hallway. left him with her heart, that, once again, was broken. broken by the boy that made her feel everything. that made her feel pure happiness, who made her feel at home.
but it all was a lie. it all was a fucking bet. and y/n y/l/n was just a game.
#harry potter#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott angst#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fic#theo nott#theo nott x reader#slytherin#mattheo riddle#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#hogwarts#slytherin boys
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i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry.
summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2k
tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please
warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise
author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.
also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Bars weren't really your thing.
If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.
Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.
Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?
Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).
You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.
You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.
"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.
"Hey."
You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.
"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.
As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.
"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."
"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."
"You know that stuff's bad for you."
"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."
"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."
"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"
"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."
"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."
You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."
"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"
"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."
"We aren't strangers either though."
"That doesn't matter. Not friends."
"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."
"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."
"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"
You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.
"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.
You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.
You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.
Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.
You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.
"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."
Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.
"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.
#teenytinyjimin#bangtan#bts fanfic#bts angst#bts fanfiction#bts fic#angst#bts jungkook#bts jk#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook angst#jk angst#jungkook x reader#jk x reader#fanfic#jk fanfic
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NEW YOU, JAKE SIM.
pairing jake sim + afab!reader.
genre fluff, angst, smut.
summary all hell breaks loose when you, the heir to the throne, decides to run away to begin a new life. luckily, you experience a surprise encounter with jake sim, which brings upon freeing adventures and sprouts a taboo relationship between a princess, and a poor criminal.
word count 10.7k (unedited).
warnings i’m sorry for the beomgyu slander 😔, jake refers to reader as princess as much as he can really, suicide mentions, family toxicity, NSFW MINORS DNI!!! (fingering fem!receiving, handjob, oral male!receiving, unprotected sex, light choking), death mentions.
an tis here!! took me awhile but i always prevail. ty for all the support <3
Royalty never lived up to the expectations that outsiders had anticipated. None of the money, gowns and experiences would live up to what those people would always have — complete freedom.
They could travel whenever they desired, do what activities they desired, be with who they desired; ultimately being who they wanted to be. You were stuck on the inside of a kingdom, and despite its tremendous size, it could never live up to the feeling of adventuring outside of the castle walls.
You had been unsure what you had done wrong to deserve something so terrible, but you had been enforced into a marriage that you would never agree to. In fact, they were so enthralled by this marriage, that you were not allowed to leave the premises so you couldn't meet anyone else until you had fallen in love.
Though, you don't think anyone could fall in love with Choi Beomgyu. He was idiotic, vain, rude and every other possible negative adjective you could think of. Even those who matched his asininity would barely be able to cope in his presence.
However, you sense you're the only one who doesn't fall for his 'charms' since everyone else seems to fawn over him whenever he appeared. Of course, you had to be the one who would in be betrothed to him in the end.
You had simply had enough.
As it was, you weren't a fan of your life before the marriage had been finalised. You weren't suited to the position of a queen nor did you want to follow that lifestyle. All that you wanted was the opportunity to be free.
What could be any better than making a plan to run away?
This was probably the fifth ball you had attended this month; you weren't sure why they had them so much, because they all had the same step-by-step procedure as if it was some form of experiment.
You would watch as your parents made their way around, greeting the same people, the same way, as if they hadn't seen each other a week ago. It was comedy-worthy how absolutely fake every single person here had been.
Within minutes of being there, you had already made your way over to the buffet table where your only friend, Julia, had been encouraged (practically scolded by your mother) to stand.
Her mother had been your babysitter as a child since it was rare your parents would find the time to actually spend any moments with you. Julia was the same age, so had grew up alongside you. It was interesting how opposite both of your lives had turned out to be despite being brought up by the same person, just with different blood.
"God, this is just as boring as I'd imagine it to be. Look at them all, it's like a food chain. I'm shocked nobody had cracked yet." You stand next to her, avoiding the gaze of everybody else in the room as you usually would.
"You shouldn't speak that way, you never know who is listening in." Julia had always been nervous when it came to your public conversation, considering she'd likely receive more of a punishment then you would, however, she leans into you more, "I would have to agree though. I could not point out a singular person who genuinely looks interested in their conversation."
"I mean, look at that herd of girls over there. They've been squawking with each other all evening, but I definitely saw Emily pointing fingers at Destiny last week." You nod your head towards the group that stood near the entrance, all chatting with one another as if they wouldn't talk behind each other's backs any other time of day.
Your eyes shift along, expecting to find another group of people to roll your eyes at, instead encountering quite a surprise. There's a servant that you don't quite recognise; brown shaggy hair, the same familiar white uniform that appears to be loose fitting, but seems to still look just right.
Surely, you think, you would have remembered someone like him.
"Julia, do you recognise him? I'm not quite sure he's ever been here before." You ask, she looks in your direction with furrowed brows as she takes in the man that you're looking at. She squints her eyes, thinking, then shakes her head.
He hadn't done anything to imply he was up to something suspicious, but you had a strange feeling about him. Feeling entranced by him, you try to think of a normal excuse so that you could speak with him — but your parents get to you first.
"Darling! Where have you been? We have been looking for you everywhere!" She beams at you, rather fabricated considering her eyes seem to be filled with annoyance since you had been staying distant from her the entire ball.
Unfortunately for you, Beomgyu slides into the conversation with his horrifically flirtatious smile that only forms disgust in your mind. He takes your hand, placing a kiss on it; Julia stifles a laugh when you side-eye her.
"It's nice to see you again, my love." He smirks at you, your mother almost clapping her hands in excitement as she watches, "Care to dance?"
Your mind searches for any excuse to refuse his offer, but your mother's fiery gaze barely gives you the option to think. You hate to be like everyone else in the room, but you give your best smile and place your hand into his.
Considering this would be your last time making your mother happy, you may as well allow it to happen.
The moment you reach your bedroom, you fall into your bed with a long groan. To be expected, the dress and makeup had taken at least an hour to remove, reaching almost one AM by the time you were in your chamber.
Minutes later, Julia wanders in her room for her 'nightly duties' — gossiping with you after a exhausting day. She conforms to you, jumping on your bed as you had.
"You look worn out- well, I'm not surprised after that." When she says that, you know she's referring to the excruciating dance that you had the dishonour (to yourself) of taking part in, "How was that enchanting dance?"
"I'm not sure if he was nervous or it was just natural, but his hands were incredibly sweaty! Normally I wouldn't judge, but surely you wouldn't hold someone's hand for that long when they're practically slipping off." Julia bursts into laughter at your response, tears spilling from her eyes.
You're going to miss Julia. In honesty, she was the only person that could keep you here and you wish you could take her with you. It would be too dangerous and risky, so you would have to give her the best.
"Julia... I was hoping you could help me with something." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and she looks at you expectingly, eyes boring into yours, "I'm really not sure how you will take this thought of mine, but it's truly what I think will be the best. I want to leave, and go far way."
Her mouth opens, no words to be spoken but it is clear she has many things to say.
"I know I should have mentioned my feelings to you earlier, and I am sorry for my selfishness. This is something I need, and I want your help, if you could." You look at her with hope, praying that there was something that she could do for you.
She sighs.
"I know a way that you'll be able to leave, quite easily." She states, she watches as your eyes light up and you become more absorbed in the conversation, "I know that they don't allow you to go into the basement of the castle. It's because there's a passageway through and door that leads through to the outside. It hasn't been used in many years."
In your mind, you recall every time someone had tensed up or began stuttering over their words whenever you got too close to that basement door. It was as if they knew that you had been planning to do something drastic, such as running away.
"How on earth would I get there if they're so cautious about me going in? It doesn't sound too wise." You sit up from your previous position, walking over to your wooden desk to take a seat. Allowing your head to fall into your hands, you question whether this was possible.
"Well... At particular times of the day, the guards leave their stations. Usually during your late dinners, actually- and around 4AM in the morning when they begin preparing for you to awake. If you can get out of the diner tonight, I'll show you." She whispers under her breath at you, just in case anyone had been deciding to listen in at the wrong time.
You have never hugged someone as tightly as you had with Julia. Within minutes, you had gone from having zero idea of how to get to your own paradise to having a knight in shining armour that so happened to be your best friend.
The dinners with your family were the worst part of being a royal; you had to spend an extended amount of time with them. Despite being your blood, they never felt like they were. Realistically, they likely didn't care for you that much, you were created for an alliance.
Even if it hadn't been explicitly stated, there was no doubts that it was the reality.
If you had to admit anything, the dining hall was gorgeous. The walls are as tall as can be, painted portraits and landscapes scattering every wall. Candles are sporadically placed around the room, as well as in the large hanging chandelier.
However, the gigantic table in the centre just made the dinners much more awkward.
"I see you talked with Prince Beomgyu at the last ball. I'm glad the two of you are getting along well." Your father speaks up for the first time during your dinner and to no surprise, it's involving mentions of your 'future' marriage partner.
"Barely..." You mumble under your breath, just loud enough for them to be able to hear, but low enough that they were unable to tell it was intentional.
You needed a reason to be able to leave, since they would never allow you to go to your room when you wanted to. On many occasions, you remember how whenever you argued or became upset, they would just let you to leave so they would't have to acknowledge the needed confrontation.
"Why can't you just be kind to him? He has done nothing but treat you right and you have hardly said one word to him." Your mother places her cutlery down and glares at you, as if you were someone she had become enemies with.
Just one more day.
"Me and all the other women he has been trying to court. I'm going to bed, I'm not hungry anymore." You retort back, standing up and storming your way out of the room. As expected, they don't follow you or say a word.
Quickly, you walk back to your room to see Julia already waiting inside for you, "We have to move fast. We have enough time but I'd rather we get in and out so we don't get caught, if all goes well, you could get out tonight." Julia grins with mixed emotion; ecstatic you're finally getting what you deserve, upset that she'll likely never see you again.
"I don't think I could ever thank you enough, I love you, Julia." You want to give her another tight hug, but there is not enough time in the day. Instead, she pulls you along to take you to the sacred basement floor.
Your heart thumps harshly in your chest as you stand in front of the door. Julia pushes it open slowly to avoid loud creaks and squeaks.
As slow as you can, you walk down the stone stairs that lead down to the basement. It is barely lit, just bright enough to be able to see where you are placing your feet on the stairs. Eventually, you reach a dingy room that is filled with miscellaneous items.
"I... don't see a door anywhere." Your eyebrows furrow as you walk around the room, squinting through the darkness in order to try and find this supposed door. In fact, you don't think you can see any other way out of the basement apart from the door you had entered from.
"It's hidden for a reason, look here." Julia remarks, you turn around to look at where she is standing. She taps her foot onto a particular area of the floor, which appears to sound more hollow than the rest of it.
The floor isn't easy to see, so you get onto your knees in order to touch around, feeling how the stone flooring feels like wood instead. With a large grin, you stand up and hug Julia one last time.
"You go back to your room now so that they don't see you down here, I can think of an excuse for myself if anything happens. It's already unlocked and goes straight out." She pulls back, her hand resting on your cheek, "If this is the last I see of you, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're my closest friend and I hope I'll get to see you again in the future, much happier than you are now."
When your eyes begin to fill with water, you make your way back up the stairs and towards your bedroom and attempting to look as innocent as possible. Patiently, you watch the hours on the clock go by.
You begin to feel like the moment isn't real; not when it reaches 3AM and your hands are shaking against your door handle. The large door feels more intimidating than usual, as if it had started to grow along with your draining anxiety throughout the waiting process.
Hastily, you move through the many corridors without giving another thought because you may just second guess yourself and decide this was not your smartest idea.
As Julia has reassured you, you didn't bump into any of the royal guards — you realise they aren't the greatest, since they appeared to be nowhere in sight. You likely could have done this months ago when you began considering the idea.
This is the quietest you had ever heard the expanse of the castle to be, if it had been this way all the time, you would have liked it more. Instead, you were stuck with the family talking your ears off every second like nails on a chalk board.
You reach the basement, feeling around on the floor until you find the door again. A proud smile appears on your face when you feel the handle, though as you're pulling it up, someone or something on the other side seems to be opening it too.
"Huh?" You gasp out, almost flinging backwards when the door opens at lightening speed, revealing a very familiar face, "It's you!"
You remember him perfectly, his face was hard to forget. Opposed to his clean appearance when you had seen him at the ball, he looks muckier and he definitely wasn't wearing royal attire this time.
"Who the hell are you?" His expression displays confusion and his voice is almost aggressive, as if he isn't the one coming in from the outside; despite the tone, the thick accent that is diversely different from your own sticks out to you clearly. No one in the area sounded as he did.
"Me? Why on earth are you sneaking into the castle? Do you have a death wish?" You whisper-shout at him, mirroring his distress towards you. He doesn't respond, looking just as baffled as you are, "How long have you been doing this for? God, the security here is dreadful."
Suspecting you had been too loud because the man before you interrupted the original plan, as you had likely done to him, the sound of feet thundering above you caused your stomach to drop and your body to freeze up.
"Shit, shit, shit!" His eyes widen and he examines the room, biting his bottom lip when he can't think of anything. He sighs and puts his attention back on you, "Whatever you're doing, make your decision now or you're dead meat. You're lucky I'm in a good mood today."
He holds his hand out towards you, urging you to take it so he can help you down into the pathways below you. After a mere thought of going back and the sound of banging on the basement door, you close your eyes and take his hand into yours.
The path becomes a blur the faster he pulls you through, but you feel a weight lift of your shoulders the further you are away from that door. Finally, you feel the cold breeze of the outside, a simple experience that you had not truly felt in many months.
You don't think you could explain to another human how incredible you felt in the moment, and with the adrenaline pumping through your body you couldn't feel any better.
Eventually, your running comes to a halt when you're dragged into a run-down cottage hidden behind moss, grown out leaves and grass. It's nothing, minuscule, compared to your old home, but you like it.
Funnily, you had almost forgotten about the man who had saved your skin, now panting with his hands on his knees. He stands straight after a minute or so, looking you in your eyes that are as wide as a deers in front of headlights.
"This, uh, this isn't where I live. I just come here when I finish up my business, which you impolitely interrupted. You want to tell me what you were doing? You seemed pretty desperate to get out of there." He walks over to a desk next to the bed, which was on the verge of falling apart, and pulls out a handkerchief from the open draw.
Even though his own face was covered in dirt and sweat, he makes his way over to you and dabs away at whatever had made its way onto yours. Then, he shoves it into his back pocket before stepping back from you.
"I'd much rather know your name first. You know, you don't make yourself appear very trustworthy being so sneaky." You fold your arms over each other, giving him an accusatory look. In return, he just laughs and you look away so you wouldn't feel hypnotised by his smile.
"You're very feisty. I'm Jake, Jaeyun, whatever you want to call me. Now, you." Now knowing his name, you think that it fits him flawlessly; you wouldn't attach any other name to his pretty face. There is a chair next to the desk which he pulls out to take a seat on, pointing his hand out towards the bed.
You noticed he had a habit of using gestures instead of his words.
"Well Jake, it's nice to meet you." The bed isn't comfy at all, but you know you should appreciate there is even one in front of you in the first place, "I needed to leave, my parents didn't really put me in the best situation, so I took it upon myself to get out of it before it was too late."
"Well, shit. You're the princess aren't you? You're worth a lot of money, you know." When you don't laugh, eyes somehow becoming even wider than they were previously, he shakes his head while he stands to place a hand on your shoulder, "I'm joking, don't look so terrified. The bed won't be up to your standards, but you're free to sleep and we'll figure something out for you in the morning."
"What about you? Mustn't you sleep?" You question, you still feel uncomfortable sitting on the bed, not wanting to attempt to sleep while he is wide awake near you. Not that you didn't trust him, but it only made you feel more awkward.
"I'll be okay. Don't worry, I'm not going to chuck you out while you're sleeping, you can breathe. And don't be so tense, you can trust me, princess." He grins at you, the light from the lantern made him look ethereal, though your heart still beats fast with conflicted feelings.
The conversation ends there, he turns the chair around the face the desk which was opposite the bed. You aren't sure what he is doing, but you feel better with him looking away. Hesitatingly, you find yourself falling into a light sleep, being awoken by the slightest noise.
You don't sleep very well that night.
The pain in your back is hard to ignore, you aren't so used to having such a springy and old bed. For a second, you expect to see Julia opening up the door to your chamber, but you are instead met with Jake walking back through the rusty door.
"Good morning, princess. I brought you some new clothing back, I imagine that cute nightgown of yours isn't so comfortable for the day." Jake holds up some clothing, what your parents would refer to as 'peasant attire'. You can feel your cheeks heat up since you had forgotten you had left wearing your nightgown in a rush.
"Thank you... for the- for the fresh clothing. I appreciate your kindness." Happily, you take the clothing from his hands. They're warm, as if they had been laid in front of a fireplace for a few hours. The new feeling of warmth after having to be used to the cruel, cold cottage brings you joy.
"No worries, sweetheart. I have a proposition for you when you're ready." You reply silently to him, with a nod of the head, then leave to go into what appears to be a bathroom.
In the mirror, you see what the last day had done to you. There's only specs of dirt left on your face, you imagine it had been significantly worse before Jake had cleared it away. Bags under your eyes show clear, causing you to let out a long sigh.
Having to get used to no longer being pampered and cared for anymore was looking harder than you anticipated. You had barely considered the cons of your actions. After a few moments of processing the past day and making yourself appear more presentable, you leave the bathroom to see Jake waiting for you, reading a book.
"I can take you somewhere that's alot safer than here. It's probably not what you want at the moment, but it's probably the best you're going to get for now." Jake places the book down and diverts his eyes to you. His eyes rack over your body, not in a sexual manner, just to examine the fitting of the clothing.
"Could you tell me what you meant by 'business'? I haven't associated myself with those people for a long time, so I won't get you into any trouble. I don't mean to intrude, but you practically know my story." Anxiously, your hands clasp in front of you and you can't bring yourself to look at him in the eyes yet.
"Well, I guess I'll trust you. Me and my family aren't very well off, if you couldn't tell. It's not east to get jobs, and even the boys who do have jobs barely get a penny." He sighs, you begin to feel bad for asking, "Surprisingly, assigned waiters and waitresses get paid enough for us to afford what we need and I'm nimble enough to get in there and fake the job. I wouldn't have done it without Julia."
Your brain short-circuits and your head shoots up to look at Jake. Confused, he looks between you and the wall at the sudden change in body language, waiting for you to speak.
"Julia? You know Julia? We were close and she never mentioned you, she even acted like she didn't know you when I asked. Did she not trust me?" Your eyebrows furrow as you start to question yourself, and everything that you had experienced.
Jake only grins at your concern and shakes his head in disagreement.
"She was always so cautious, I did tell her not to bring this up, I'm sure she was worried of others listening. She helped me- alot. Wouldn't have done any of this without her.” He reassures you, the two of you decide to end this particular conversation there.
Thinking back to his proposition, you collect whatever you have left of your belongings and place them into a straw bag which had been placed next to the bed. Jake nods towards the door with a barely noticeable smile.
The door opens and you wince at the sun burning into your eyes. It radiates through your skin when you take your first step outside. Your hands grip harder onto the bag as you follow behind Jake to your next stop in your journey.
Neither of you take it upon yourself to start conversations. You don't have a problem with him and he has no issues with you, but it's obvious that there was a silent agreement that you would try and help each other and part ways.
At least that was how you had taken the last few hours. This was a new, blooming path for you, and you couldn't allow anyone to hold you back. No matter how much you may start to enjoy Jake's company, he had a family he cared deeply for and you had places you wanted to go.
After an hour or two, stopping off for the occasional rest, you encounter another cottage. Larger than the last, and taken care of. Flowers grow all around in bright colours, the brick the cottage is made out of being painted a gorgeous beige and darkened smoke peering out of the chimney.
After being at awe at how beautiful you found the cottage to be, you then see two younger boys tending to a garden filled with various fruits and vegetables. They look up, confused by your presence, but their faces light up once they see Jake.
"Jae, You're back! We were starting to get a little worried about you." They both come running towards Jake, diving into his arms as he hugs them closely to his body. You can't help but smile at the love for each other that beams from them — you almost begin to feel jealous.
"I have a come back rate of 100%, I'm invincible at this point, Won." Jake places light kisses on the top of their heads, and then their attention lands on the elephant in the room, you, "Yeah, uh, this is a recent friend of mine."
Once you give your name to his brothers, they seem to put the puzzle pieces together. The taller ones jaw drops while the other's eyebrows fall into anger.
"Sim Jaeyun what the hell have you gotten yourself into! Heeseung is going to be furious!"
Heeseung was in fact furious.
The eldest had spent about twenty minutes stalking around the cottage's main room rebuking Jake for doing something so impulsive, like allowing the runaway princess to take refuge in their home without speaking with the rest of them.
You almost stood up to leave them alone due to feeling rude and awkward, but Jake and his brother’s Jongseong and Riki were adamant on letting you stay since you had nowhere else to go. Somehow, they convinced the rest of them.
Over the month you had been living with the seven boys, something in your mind had switched. In such a short amount of time, all of them had become prominent figures in your life and it felt like you had been there forever.
One thing that you couldn't push through was the different between how you felt about Jake compared to the rest of his brothers. The touches between you both always lingered longer and you would always notice the way he would watch you while Jungwon taught you how to correctly tend to the garden.
It was a quiet day, most of the boys were tired and taking the hours to rest, most of them sleeping apart from Sunoo who silently read a book at the dining table, and you who had been sowing away to a shirt Sunghoon had accidentally ripped.
The constant silence, apart from the sound of pages turning and the fire crackling, was broken by a loud yawn as Jake opens his bedroom door. Sunoo doesn't spare him a glance, but you look up from your needle and thread to give the man a sweet smile.
"Good morning- well, afternoon, princess." He beams, making his way over to you. Both of his hands lay on either side of your shoulders and it takes everything in you not to tense up at the sudden touch.
"What did I say about calling me princess, Jaeyun?" You murmur, still trying to concentrate on the shirt in front of you. Jake's head is now placed upon yours, and you wonder if he's trying to or is blissfully unaware that he's flustering you to the highest degree.
"That I should stop calling you princess- but it suits you so well! And I think you should keep calling me Jaeyun, I like it." He replies, you roll your eyes and give up with your task. Jake moves away from you, so you turn around in your chair to face him.
"I'll think about it." You smirk at him, he opts to sit next to you and lay his head onto the table as if he had still been tired, "I thought you would be sleeping all day."
"Well... I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride in our sailing boat. I could teach you how to use it. It's too warm for me to sleep." He responds, his head being hidden in his arms consequently leaves you unable to see the pink shade that spreads across his cheeks.
"That would be nice, I've always wanted go ride in a boat- my parents never let me do anything." Finishing up, you finally stand from the chair to stretch your legs, cracking your fingers due to the ache in them.
"You can do anything that you want now. They'll always be looking for you, but we can get you far enough that they won't be able to find you." Jake purses his lips, looking away from you before continuing, "Though you’re always welcome to stay here."
"You know that I can't." You hadn't meant to sound so cold.
Jake becomes more and more despondent every time you reject his offer of staying with him. The others boys had grown fond of you, just as he had, you were safe and free from the sickening hold of your biological family.
Alas, you wanted excitement over tranquility.
The lake behind the house could have been the most perfect sight. Somehow, the water had stayed as clean as it could be, you could see the bottom of the shallow areas. What you liked the most was the natural decoration of trees and flowers, moments like this could convince you to stay.
As expected, the boat is still attached to the pier. It was rare they ever used it, often just fishing from the pier itself, but the warm day warranted a little change.
You and Jake walk side by side in a comfortable silence, something the two of you had grew to enjoy. Over years, you had gotten used to constantly being surrounded by noise that the serenity of the cottage on rest days felt strange — you never got rest days.
At first, any kind of silence was uncomfortable, though you hardly realised it had become pleasant.
Jake gets into the boat, holding out his hand to carefully help you in. He leans over to reach for the oars, and you take a seat across from him, "How am I supposed to teach you from all the way over there?"
"Where else am I supposed to go?" You raise an eyebrow at him. He shows off a flirtatious smirk and pats the little area that is left in front of him.
Jake did a brilliant job at making you frantic; you'd never experienced a relationship such as this, apart from Beomgyu, who you would rather never hear of again.
Slowly, you take your seat in front of him, back pressed snugly against his warm chest.
"Hold tight, I'll hold my hands over yours and show you how to do it properly." The two of you seem to be holding hands a lot lately. He tries to hold your hands as daintily as he could to ensure his tight grip wouldn't hurt you, and begins to row, "You're a natural."
"I guess I'm simply just good at everything." You joke, and you finally let the stiffness in your body go, moving with your thoughts to distract yourself, "I wonder how Julia is doing... I feel awful for having to leave her."
You had worried for Julia every single day. There had been no news, at least not that the boys had heard of yet; by now, you expected a large-scale search where guards and soldier would be loitering around every corner, but not one had been seen in the area. You wondered if she was safe.
"You had no choice. I'll always wish her the best, she really did everything she could for me, for us. We had a real hard time last year." He replies, staring off into the distance as he continues to row the boat, you're barely putting in any effort.
"If you don't mind me asking, what happened? Whenever it seems to come in to conversation, everyone gets quiet and moves on." You ask, almost hesitantly.
Parts of you disliked that you allowed your curiosity to get the best of you. It wasn't your business, and a topic they had been evading conversation about since it happened. Though you cared about them, and want to take care of them.
"We were really struggling, the worst it had been. It was like everything that could go wrong, was going wrong. We had no food and we were freezing. There was a lot of pressure on all of us, and I guess Hoon just couldn't take it anymore. I had to jump in to pull him out of the water and I can still remember how hard he had sobbed in my arms."
"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry. None of you deserved that kind of life, you're all so loving and kind. I'm glad you all had each other, I can't imagine what you've been through." At some point, you had moved to turn your body around to face him. You had never been so close to his face before, yet it felt so familiar.
"Without Julia I'm not sure we'd still be here, so fucking up the system was our best choice. I guess I would never have met you either if I never went through with it- and I sure would have regretted that." He grins, and you can't help but return it.
"All of you are so strong, you're amazing, Jaeyun." You remind him, and hope this will be something he and his brothers will always know.
There are continuous shifts in the air whenever you are left together, as if every moment brings you so much closer, but formed a theory that there wasn't a moment where you hadn't known Jake Sim, like he was everlasting in your life.
It’s cut short when Riki comes running down from the cottage, almost tripping over his own feet. His face isn't entirely visible from the length away, but your stomach drops as you sense something is wrong. Just minutes ago, he was fast asleep.
As fast as possible, Jake rows himself back to the pier where Riki is stood, taking deep breaths. He appears bothered by something, and his concerned attention seems to be on you the whole time.
"You guys- you're going to end up in big trouble. Jesus, some guards just turned up at the door, pretty much just as you reached the pier. They didn't recognise you from so far away, we told them that you were going far out and couldn't come back, but they said they'll come back later to talk to you."
You are so, so scared; you can feel your body begin to shake as what you had been anticipating finally happens. It had been so long, that you had started to consider the idea that they swiftly moved on from you. Unfortunately, it could never be so easy.
It didn't take long for you to start sobbing, the original feeling of shock and fear subsiding into anxiety and sadness. Jay has you wrapped in his arms as you shake, everyone has seated themselves down apart from Jake, who aggressively wanders around the room.
"Jaeyun, stand still. You're just making her feel even worse shuffling around the room like that." Heeseung glares at his younger brother, standing up from his seat to walk towards him.
"Yeah? Well what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what the fuck to do!" Jake shouts, not so loud, yet it still makes you jump enough that Jay holds you ever so slightly tighter. Looking over, Jake and Heeseung are standing face to face.
"Stop shouting at me and get your goddamn act together, she needs us, she needs you. You want to help her? Then we need to talk and figure out where we go from here." Heeseung snarls at Jake, who lets out a frustrated groan and nods his head.
This was the first time you had seen them truly upset with each other. It's due to one of your own problems too, which makes you feel entirely responsible even if you hadn't intended to.
"I have to leave."
All of their eyes divert to your direction, even Jay draws back from you a little. They all share the same expression, one you can't quite read in detail, but they are shocked by your statement.
"What? No, no, where on earth would you go? We can figure this out. Don't go until you're ready to move on." Sunghoon states, his thick eyebrows beginning to furrow in concern.
"If I'm not gone by the time they get back, I'm not sure what they would do to you all if they knew I was here. I could never put you all at risky like that- and I would dread to think about the things they would do to me too."
"Are you sure?" Jungwon mumbles begrudgingly, frowning at the thought of you leaving them all. He had grown closest to you, other than Jake, and even though he would never admit it to anyone, he had grown rather attached to your presence.
Simply, you nod your head and hold your bottom lip between your teeth to attempt to avoid any more tears. Sunghoon was right to make a comment on you being ready, because you were far from so.
"I'll come with you." Jake's voice causes you to look at him again, eyes wide and lost. He appears so sure of himself, "I'll get you somewhere far enough that's safe. I can't stay with you, but I can offer as much help as possible. None of us want you out alone."
After a serious talk, heartbreaking goodbyes and reassurance that you will always have a place to be, you and Jake are on your way. He reminds you of another cottage not so long away that the two of you can stop at for the night, similarly to when you had first met.
Jake had been carrying a leather, worn-down rucksack that was filled with miscellaneous items that would keep you going and had been profusely refusing your offers to carry it for a little to give him a break.
There's a constant guilt riding through your body with every moment, and Jake is able to tell, he seems to know you well enough now. He spends his time telling you stories of his youth, his current years, his brothers; beautiful moments to tell you that this is momentary, and all will be well soon enough.
An hour or two walk leads you to the cottage, and it's far from pretty. In fact, you think some of the roof is missing and some of the windows are smashed up. Not the ideal place to stay, but it'll work for now.
"Here, take this, you're freezing." He offers up his jacket, more so forcing it into your hands. He's cold too, but he'd rather be the one to get sick.
"Why are there so many abandoned cottages around here? It's such a waste..." You question after sitting down at a wooden desk chair, your legs recovering from the long walk.
"People like to move around, they'll just up and leave, go to the next town or whatever it is they're doing. Their old homes just get forgotten about, I guess." He shrugs, he's used to them being around, while you were thinking about how lovely it would be to renovate.
It wasn't difficult for you to fall asleep, so exhausted that all it took was closing your eyes.
You never had nightmares; not until tonight.
Everyone you had come to know was there, complaining about how you were an awful friend, daughter, partner, princess. Hearing sharp words from your family was something you had become desensitised to, but Julia and Jake broke your heart.
Jake sees you shuffling in your sleep, making small noises, a concerned expression across your face. He pouts from where he sits, gathering that you were having a bad dream.
Quietly, he makes his way over to you and sits on the opposite side of the bed. He finds himself studying your sleepy face, you were always bright and ignoring a few minor occasions, he never really saw you upset.
He leans forward and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, he ponders whether he should wake you up, but you're faster than him, shooting up as you frantically look around the room.
"Hey, woah! Breathe princess, you're okay, you're safe." Jake speaks so softly that the tension in your body dissipates immediately, your hand wraps around his for additional comfort and you look him in the eyes.
It feels right.
Jake's free hand moved upwards to rest on your cheek, you nuzzle into his hand happily and close your eyes. A few seconds pass, you decide to look back at Jake, who you hope is feeling just as you do.
When his thumb faintly rubs against your bottom lip, it was as if the subconscious block that had been holding you back snaps. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but it didn't matter.
His lips slot perfectly on yours; just like his hands, his arms, every fibre of his being. You feel slightly hesitant due to your lack in experience, though the softness of how Jake holds you tells you everything will be just fine.
He caresses your waist line as his tongue slips into your mouth, and you're sure you could kiss Jake's lips forever. In comparison, you’re gripping onto Jake for dear life, taking an awfully deep breath when you part from each other.
“I’m always going to keep you safe, you and the boys, you are my life. I’ll protect you even if it kills me.” He whispers against your lips, and a stray tear slips down your cheek as you both stay with each other, forgetting about your problems just for a moment.
You hadn't been to another town before since you were a small child, being isolated away from others for such a long time. It's so lively and full of happy people, it makes you think about how quiet it had been at your old home as everyone in town had generally kept to themselves.
"Anywhere you want to go?" Jake asks, his hand still gripping yours tightly. Neither of you decided to mention the previous night, but you both have refused to let go of each other since you fell asleep, and Jake was feeling nauseated at the thought of you getting lost.
You had to admit to being anxious; there was always the chance that someone would recognise you even if they hadn't seen you since you were much younger. Not everyone was a good person, you would end up back at square one.
"I think I'd like to go to the lake, the old lady in the bakery really sold it for me." You hold up the bag that was filled with bread and sweet treats (you had to convince Jake not to steal any of them because the lady was so kind and you had enough money), "It's getting a little late, so I wouldn't mind going to the lake for a little while and then going to the inn."
The sky is filled with vibrant variations of pinks, oranges and yellows as the sun begins to set. It shines beautifully onto the lake as you and Jake walk along the path, content as you both munch on bread and laugh with each other.
Time passes so fast that you don't even realise how long you have been wandering around for, the dark skies soon tiring you out. Your eyes feel heavy, so you suggest going to the inn.
"You are a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" The woman behind the counter asks, grinning at your closeness as she takes the money from Jake's hands.
"Our whole lives, miss." Jake says, as if it has been a normal everyday saying. Of course, you become embarrassed and hide behind Jake's arm and the elderly woman coos at you as she passes along the key.
The air feels strange once you and Jake are laid in the bed together. Even though you are so far apart from one another, it's like the heat of his body is still reflecting onto yours. Whatever you feel in your body, you know it is unfamiliar to you.
You bite your bottom lip in hesitance. Taking a deep breath, you turn around to face Jake. To your surprise, he had already been facing you with his eyes open, watching you.
"You can't sleep either?" He asks, his voice becoming raspy from the lack of speaking. Even though the room is so dark, he manages to look just as gorgeous as usual, even with such tired eyes.
"I'm thinking." You reply quietly, Jake nudges further so that he is closer to you.
"What are you thinking about?" He takes his hand, moving a stray hair behind your ear, hand now resting softly on your cheek.
When you don't answer, Jake's hand is quick to travel to the back of your head as he slams his own lips against yours. Your own hand makes its way into his hair, tugging lightly as your body shakes in anticipation when he lets out a low groan against you.
You clamber onto his lap, wanting to feel as close to him as was humanly possible. The emotions and hormones running through your body became so overwhelming that you could only let out whiny whimpers on his mouth.
His hand moves between your thighs, playing with your little clit in excitement, allowing you to grind against his veiny hand. He messes with you through your underwear, soon moving it to the side with a long groan. A long string of saliva links the two of you, Jake's jaw dropping as he looks at you.
"Didn't take you long to get so wet, you wanted me for that long, honey?" His voice drops octaves, his irises filled with a concept you could hardly comprehend; but you have never felt so much pleasure, "Can't believe I waited this long to see how pretty you look withering on top of me."
"Jake!" You grip at his arm, nails practically digging into his skin, hips moving faster and faster as you feel the intense butterflies in your stomach. Tears brim your eyes as you experience the new feeling, almost bursting as your slick covers Jake's hand.
He can barely take in the situation himself. He's hardly done anything and your eyes are already welling up and he just knows drool is going to start dripping from your swollen lips soon enough. Jake pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean.
"Off, too hot. Yours too." You start to pull at Jake's shirt, he rips your nightgown from your body, leaving you with the thin material of your underwear. Before you could think, his arm wrapped around your back to pull you into him, taking your left breast into his mouth.
His other hand reaches to wrap perfectly around the other, harshly nipping to get a squeal out of you, he slots himself comfortably between your legs, pressing you against his hardening cock. The man underneath you bites his lip hard, lifting up his hips into your core.
"Fuck, fuck baby, just like that." His eyes and hands are still concentrated on your chest, completely hypnotised by their feel and appearance. Jake is absolutely enamoured, and you're already cock-drunk before he's even gotten inside of you.
But it still just isn't enough.
When you lift yourself up and reach down to palm his length through his pants, Jake is sure his eyes roll to the back of his head. He could feel
the fire emits from you, from inside you, from every touch you gifted to his body. You're so desperate, and he's ready to give you anything you desire.
"Can I..." You whimper out, reaching over to the low waistband of his pants. Looking at your face, Jake doesn't want to rip his eyes away. Your own eyes are blown out and your pretty skin is begin to sweat, your hair managing to fall flawlessly in place like you weren't jumping his bones.
"You can do anything you want to me, baby. I'm all yours." He whispers into your ear, nibbling slightly at the lobe. Swiftly, you finally pull at his pants and he lifts up so that you can remove them completely.
It stands tall, wet and red, you can't help but wrap your hands around it. However, not wanting to make a mistake, you give him your best doe eyes to ask for help.
"It's okay, princess. Just move your hand up and down, just like that- fuck." You move your hand up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with Jake, whose eyes are beginning to close from the building pleasure, "Such a good girl f’me.”
Suddenly, you're sliding yourself down his body, your face against his chest as your back arches deliciously. Your tongue lands directly on the slit of his tip, Jake moans loudly and grips onto your hair.
He tried his best not to buck his hips upwards, though he gets even more turned on at your inherent skill to take him in your mouth with ease, the tiny tears in your eyes only make him even more feral.
Your smaller hands are moving nicely on his cock along with your gummy mouth and just the sight of you has him on the edge; a lethal combination. Not wanting to let go just yet, he gently lifts you from him with a dazed smile at your sudden concerned face.
"It's okay, baby- you're doing so, so well for me. Just want us to be able to cum at the same time, hm?" He's quick to model you into the position he wants, you on your back facing him, legs over his shoulders so he can see your fucked out, cute face, “Tell me when you want me to move, okay?”
Then, he pushes himself into you.
You expected it to sting at first, your nails digging and scratching against Jake who just takes it. He waits, albeit the ache he feels in his stomach, until you give him the green light to start moving.
"Go, please." You squeak out, and he does as his lady requests. Still hurting ever so slightly, but with every move comes a larger wave of pleasure. He's almost sure he'll have to slap a hand over your mouth or kiss you so you don't get kicked out, "Oh my god!"
"So fucking tight. My pretty girl, all this for me." Jake stutters out against your neck, sucking at it while your hand rummage around his body, his hair, dragging your nails against his back as he ravages you.
Embarrassment fills you as Jake examines your face and body below him. You try to turn your head, but he immediately raises his hand to grab you by the chin and force you to look back, then his hand makes its way right around your throat in a light choke, "Look at me, honey."
It’s such an intimate moment, both of you finally together as one, only seeing each other and nothing else in the world. He’s holding your cheek while his other hand wraps around your throat and you’re all other the place.
You reach your peak, convulsing so hard and desperate. Jake’s eyebrows furrow harder, hips faltering as he climaxes too, you feel the spurts fill you to the brim, close to bringing another orgasm out of you.
Ears ringing, he lies on top of you though trying his best not to put all of his weight down on your current fragile body. He strokes the top of your head, and you ask him to stay inside of you until you fall asleep.
The alarm of the bright sun shining through the sheer white curtains has you waking up as soon as it hits your skin. You grab the sheets and hike them up your body, still naked after immediately passing out last night. However, it seems like Jake had cleaned you up before you awoke, no longer covered in sweat and cum.
Eyes closing again, you turn your body around and feel onto the other side of the bed for your lover, but only gripping onto empty sheets. You furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips, sitting up and looking around the room.
There is light sparkling from the gap under the bathroom door, you make the assumption he mist be in there, "Jaeyun? Are you in the bathroom?"
After a second or two, the door opens and there stands a half naked Jake, his lean torso and shoulders on full display for you. He grins as his eyes scan down your bare body, spending significantly more time on your tits.
"Now what a lovely sight this is first thing in the morning." He laughs, pressing soft kisses along the dark splotches on your neck. You roll your eyes with a smile, pushing him away a little so you could pick up your day clothing to get changed, "You could just stay like that for a few more hours, I'm not complaining."
"You're suddenly so perverted, have you been hiding this from me the whole time?" You ask jokingly, leaning against the doorway in all your naked glory. He looks at you like he has never seen anything as perfect, how he just can’t look away from you; the glint in them somehow tells you that it isn’t just lust in his eyes.
He doesn’t answer, shaking his head with a bite of his lip. Closing the bathroom door, you look at yourself in the mirror while you change, noticing the new glow in your skin — you’re sure there is a myriad of reasons why.
There’s a knock on the door to the room. strange, you think, but you imagine it may be someone complaining about the loud noises and squeaks throughout the night, so you finish putting your shirt on.
As your hand lands on the handle, Jake shouts.
“Get your fucking hands off me! She isn’t in here you, assholes! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” He’s angry at whoever was at the door, the mention of a she makes you shake and back away from the door.
You search for a window, anywhere that could get you out — but the thought of leaving Jake out there broke your heart and you would rather get hurt helping him than leaving all alone.
Before you can even come down to a decision between your two options, the bathroom door bursts open, wooden panels and metal flying around the room. You could recognise the clanky soldier attire of your family anywhere, them staring you down with violent glares.
Having nowhere to go, Jake nowhere in sight, your only option is to follow their instructions.
Standing before your parents, hands handcuffed behind your back, may have been the strangest occurrence you had the glory of experiencing in your life. Their angry faces dawned on you that you had royally fucked up and should have thought about being more sneaky instead of trying to live out your romance dreams.
"You are a disgrace to this family." Your mother spits at you, staring right into your eyes with pure disgust, no remorse for what she had done to you your whole life.
"I'm the disgrace? You tried to force your only daughter into a whole marriage with a man she couldn't stand to be around. You never cared about me, I'm only here to carry on your shitty legacy." You watch as your father's lips press into a thin line at your words, his hands rub at the bridge of his nose.
"You're completely delusional. The marriage will go on and that awful man you had stuck yourself to will be hanged for his crimes." His words are like poison venom, your knees bucking in shock.
Jake would be hanged because you had feelings for him, those were the crimes in your family's mind; their biggest fear as they locked you into a marriage destined to be because it was uncontaminated by a non-royal.
"What- no, no, no! Please, please let him go. I'll marry Beomgyu, I'll do anything, just please don't hurt him. He has a family, he did nothing wrong." You beg hard, almost wanting to drop to your knees with praying hands so they would listen to your requests just this singular time.
"We can't let a man of his kind go, they'll simply have to suffer." She dusts off her hands, standing up from her undeserved throne, "Don't think we forgot about how Julia betrayed us too."
"You're all fucking sick, you're sick in the head!" You scream at the top of your lungs, throat burning and your vision becoming unclear as you are dragged away back to your bedroom.
You spend your next few days with puffy eyes, overthinking every moment. It had been the day of your marriage, a day that you would remember forever but for the wrong reasons. Julia and Jake had still been alive since your torturous parents thought it would be a splendid idea for them to watch.
"You look gorgeous, I'm sorry that this day is not going as you desire, I wish this could be much different." Julia's mother had been the woman to adjust your dress. It was easy to see the sadness and distress in her eyes and you could barely imagine how she must be feeling in the moment.
"Thank you. I'm sorry about Julia." You wince as she tightens the corset.
"There isn't much I can do about that anymore. I tried my best, and it only seemed to make things worse." She comes around to your front, smiling so bittersweetly that it hurts you.
No matter how beautiful the reception is, it just appears revolting to you. Especially when you see Beomgyu waiting at the alter for you, everyone smiling at you like you should be happy and Jake and Julia sat right at the front, handcuffed up with guards on either side of them.
Your father holds on to your arm as you walk down the aisle and it makes you want to throw up on the expensive carpet. When you reach the front, you're practically pushed into Beomgyu's arms and the audience, since it's for show, laughs.
You look at Jake and Julia, them both sharing the same facial expression as you had. Seeing Jake in this light broke your heart and if you weren't in such an awful predicament, you would have ran to him.
"Any objections?" The priests asks before he begins and you have to peel your eyes away from Jake who looks like he hasn't slept in days and is on the verge of tears.
"I object!" Everyone's head turns in awe at the disturbance. You have to rub your eyes to make sure you're seeing things correctly because Riki is standing up on top of one of the further back pews, "I think this place has some decoration."
A sizzling sound is heard from the corner of the building; then the whole left side releases a large explosion that causes the building to begin to fall. With no thought, you start to run towards the exit, alerting Jake and Julia to join you, ripping your dress in the process.
Beomgyu latches onto your arm.
"Let go of me. They’re all I have left." You attempt to say sternly, but your voice trembles as you look between him and the exit. This was your last chance and he was trying to take it away from you. You’re struggling to drag yourself away from him- but he just releases you and turns to leave himself.
Jake, Julia and Riki, even Jay who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, follow suit.
"What the fuck! Where the hell did you get explosives from you psychos!" Jake shouts with an energetic laugh, still running with his hands cuffed — you would have to figure out how to get him out of those once you were all safe.
"I don't know! Sunghoon said he knew some people!" Jay responds, chuckling back at his brother.
You're back at your real home in no time, but you know you'll have to do something about the corrupted royals at some point in time. They could have easily recognised Riki and come back for a less peaceful visit.
"How did you know what was happening?" Julia interrogates the boys, rubbing her wrists to relieve them of the pain from being locked in cuffs for so long.
"They have a weird habit of releasing all information to the public. Heeseung had a feeling that something was wrong and made a visit, luckily was the same day they announced you and had Jake hostage.” Sunoo shrugs, “Sunghoon came back with explosives and still won’t tell us where he got them from.”
"Well, what do we do now?" Jake asks, his arms still holding you protectively. Everyone stays silent, but you know you’ll figure it out together.
Years pass and they never bother you again and you would all laugh that Sunghoon’s mystery explosives must have really made them jump.
Most of the boys had moved on with their lives; Jake found Heeseung and Julia making out in the kitchen one day after a hidden relationship, then the two of them moved out into a new town a little while later to start a family. Jay and Sunghoon found well-paying jobs on travels and would come to visit every moment they could.
The three younger boys stayed back, while you and Jake built up the cottage where you revealed your love for one another to live your own lives.
You smile widely as you examine your growing belly with the new life growing inside of it, Jake watches you lovingly from his desk chair where he writes up his notes for work.
His baby, his pretty girl; you who once stood as royalty lived a simply happy life and Jake finding what he was looking for in the end.
I’d say that deserves a happily ever after.
taglist ; @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whiskrv @mixtapejimin @zyvlxqht @saintriots @yohanabanana @jentlecoeur @belowbun @meujaeyun @capri-cuntz @greyminyoon1 @river-demon-slayer
#enhypen x reader#enha x reader#jake x reader#jake sim x reader#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#jake sim smut#enhypen fanfic#enha fanfic#jake fanfic#jake sim fanfic#enhypen oneshot#enha oneshot#jake oneshot#jake sim oneshot#sim jaeyun x reader#sim jaeyun smut#sim jaeyun fanfic#sim jaeyun oneshot#enhypen fluff#jake sim fluff#enhypen angst#jake sim angst
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Warm Blankets Pt. 1
Genre: angst, fluff
Pairing: platonic!skz x 9th member!reader
Warnings: Chan is really mean in the beginning
The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.
Pt.1 || Pt.2 || Pt.3
If I knew you'd act like this, I wouldn't have fought for you to be in the group!
Chan's words still rung in your head as you walked with Hyunjin, looking down to hold back another wave of tears.
You didn't know how the fight even started. One minute you were walking into his studio and the next, you were being pulled out by Hyunjin. His soft reassurances clashed with the cold look in his eyes as he looked at their leader.
Hyung! That was low. Calm down and then talk. We're done for today.
The minute the words left his mouth you were stunned. All fight and fire had left your body, leaving you cold. It wasn't easy for Chan to fight for you. The company had too many factors to consider. You were considered a "risky choice", but day in and day out, Chan fought. He practiced with you, recorded with you, and helped you prepare to be your very best. Even if you were good, you stayed up with him to strive to be better.
And in the end, it all came together. Your fate was left in the hands of public opinion and it seemed you were more liked than you thought. With 97% of the audience voting to keep you in the group, you were officially a part of Stray Kids.
You were always pushing yourself, staying late nights and having early mornings to squeeze in as much practice time as possible. You wanted to prove that you had a spot in the group. Impressing fans was important, but more than anything, you wanted to make the members proud. You wanted to make Chan proud.
You didn't remember how the fight started, but you knew he didn't mean it. Still, the words stung more than any critique or hate comment you've ever gotten. Unable to hold back the next wave of tears, you pulled Hyunjin to the side of the road and turned towards a wall to wipe the tears away. As soon as you turned away though, you felt a presence behind you and a hand on your back.
"It's okay to cry, you know. You don't have to hide it", he reassured, running his hand up and down your back. "What he said was mean, but it was wrong. You have a big part in out group. Without you, we wouldn't be Stray Kids, only Stray."
You couldn't hold back any more and hugged the older boy. He was only a few months older but it was like he took it upon himself to be the 00's eldest; he always took care of his younger members, and never left them alone when they were down.
Hugging you tightly to his chest, Hyunjin gently ran his fingers down your back, occasionally running them through your hair. He made calm shushing sounds as you let go of every tear you'd been holding back since you left the company building. You didn't know how to describe the pain you felt, but being around Hyunjin was making it better. I'm not alone. I'm wanted, you thought as your breathing finally slowed.
"Is there anything you want to do? We basically have the day off," Hyunjin whispered, still holding you to him. It was a gentler hold so you could let go if you wanted to.
You didn't want to.
Thinking it over, you were just tired. You didn't know what to do so you just shook your head. Hyunjin hummed at that, thinking. A few seconds later he said, "how about we go back to the dorms and just eat and watch movies?"
The thought of seeing the other members made your heart lighter so you looked up and nodded before stepping away from him. "Yeah, that'd be nice," you said.
"Cool! Let's get some snacks before heading back?" he asked, pointing to the convenience store not too far from where you were.
"Sure! And some drinks?"
"You got it," he responded before grabbing your hand and walking to the store.
Unknown to you, Hyunjin had sent a quick text to the dorm:
SOS, y/n had a really bad day, extra tlc needed
You lived in a dorm with Felix, Seungmin, Leeknow, and Jeongin since that dorm had five rooms and the other had four. Your dorm was immediately dubbed the "cuties dorm" because it was the maknae line + Minho.
Today wasn’t really a day off but most of your schedules were in the morning so most, if not all, if your dorm mates were home. The moment they got the text, it was like a spell was cast over them. Felix was the first to react, running to all of their rooms and grabbing every pillow and blanket he could get his hands on.
Seungmin and Minho were watching a scary movie together and got up as well. Minho went into the kitchen to start cooking your favorite meal and Seungmin looked for their matching pajama sets. You had bought it on the fay you all moved, but hadn’t had a chance to wear it. Jeongin was out for a walk when he got the text and started running home. On the way though, he spotted a cute bear and bought it quickly before heading back.
At the same time, Hyunjin sent another text to 2/3RACHA:
Leader-hyung is pissed. Casualty=1 Tread carefully
He knew today was a track-day for 3RACHA so he left them to it, but decided they deserved a warning. Chan never hurt them intentionally, but when he was mad, words could be said that he didn’t mean. Hyunjin already had one hurt kid, he didn’t want to add more to the mix. Placing his arms around your shoulders, Hyunjin walked towards the convenience store and hoped the members all pulled through.
Here's Part One of my first mini-series here! I was originally going to make it one long post, but then it got really long so for my first one, I figured it'd be best to have this broken up into three parts.
The next two parts are being written and will be up in the upcoming days! If all goes well, the next part will be up in two days, and then part three will be up two days after the second part!
I want to reiterate the note I put in the beginning, I do not, in any way, think those words would come out of Chan's mouth. This is all purely fiction and in no way represents how I feel about the members. I love them all, but for the fic I needed an angst anchor.
Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!
-Jini
Divider made by: @cafekitsune
#jiniret-writings#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagine#bang chan#bangchan angst#bangchan x you#hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin comfort#hwang hyunjin comfort#hyunjin x you#hyunjin x y/n#platonic stray kids#9th member#stray kids 9th member#au#alternate universe#stray kids au#lee felix fluff#leeknow fluff#jeongin flu#jeongin fluff#seungmin fluff#stray Kids felix#stray kids leeknow#stray kids seungmin#stray kids jeongin
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I Fall In Love Too Fast
Part 2 to ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 6.2k (I fed you guys well!)
warnings: implied age gap, carrot penis reference if you squint, Y/N is a greenhouse girlie, mutual pining, use of y/n, fluff, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, borderline bullying, stalking, attempting break in, violence, angst, description of blood (sort of), consensual cuddling, joel can’t tell his veggies apart (edited sort of)
a/n shaking rn i need to see cocaine bear asap
summary Y/N and Joel have an unlikely meeting in Jackson’s greenhouse.
masterlist
join the tag list
read time: 22 mins 43 seconds
The low hums of the generator filled your ears. The greenhouse could be very peaceful at times. Something you couldn’t explain drew you to the plants. Ever since you were a child, your friends from the old QZ you grew up in would always question why you would rather read the old book about botany you found than play tag.
When you were presented with the opportunity of working in the greenhouse in Jackson, you were more than happy to accept the position. All the vegetation calmed you for some reason. It was a sense of control in this crazy world. It was almost like it was normal inside that tented space.
After a few years of living in Jackson, Maria decided to appoint you as head greenhouse keeper. You had proved your success throughout the years, the vegetation grew by over 35% (according to Maria, stats were never your thing).
It had been a few days since you had seen Joel. It was a quick, longing goodbye early in the morning. He wanted to make sure you were home before Bradley would have to wake up. The thought of your… ex? You weren’t even quite sure yet. But the thought of him made you want to vomit. And the thought of Joel made you feel… well, safe.
The music coming from your walkman began to skip. The old CD player was old in the time cordyceps started, but nevertheless it trudged on through the pandemic. CD’s were rare, but they were often traded in the community. Currently, Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits skipped through your headphones. Ellie’s CD, presumably from Joel. You didn’t take Ellie for a big Sinatra fan. The thought of having something of his with you made the music just a little bit sweeter.
The song “I Fall In Love Too Easily” began to play clearly through the headphones. You had the headphone jack placed in just the right angle. Ignoring everything else in the world, you swayed to the music slowly as you were washing off the carrots in the sink. As the song continued, you began to hum along with the tune. The song was new to you; the lyrics weren’t mastered in your brain yet.
***
Joel trudged down the muddy streets of Jackson. Tommy and Maria were having a get together that night, and he stupidly agreed to help. Maria requested him to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce. After Maria’s pushing and adamancy, Joel finally agreed to go. He was suspicious on why he had to go and why Maria just couldn’t go herself, but he decided to leave the possible argument alone and just do what he was told. He wanted to stay back and help Tommy with the roast anyways. That was his specialty. Back in Texas, Joel would make the best damn barbecue in the neighborhood.
Hell, he had never even had to go to the greenhouse before. He was perfectly content on living off of canned beans and coffee. And it was Sunday; the one day everyone had off. The greenhouse was sure to be abandoned, meaning he would have to forage for the produce himself. Did he know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber? Hell no. Not even when life wasn’t shit he couldn’t figure that out.
Maria smirked as herself and Tommy watched Joel slump down the street. Joel was reading off the slip of paper Maria had written down directions on to the greenhouse. “The only person crazy enough to be workin’ on a Sunday is Y/N, if anyone is there.” Tommy said. “Why do you think I sent him?”
They both gave each other conniving looks.
“You saw the way he acted at the Tipsy Bison earlier this week,” Maria said, sucking her teeth and turning around to tend to her stew. “Don’t you want him to be happy?” She called back to Tommy. He shook his head at his wife’s antics and returned to the roast.
***
Joel let out a scoff as he realized he knew exactly where he was going. The big, white tent that sat on the edge of Jackson. Embarrassingly, he made his way towards the big landmark he mistakenly used to take for a medical ward. To his surprise, the lights were on.
Joel gave the door a few knocks before he opened it, not to freak out the possible worker who could have been behind the door. He quietly slipped in. He brushed some of the mud off his boots as he opened the second door.
A rush of heat hit his face. His eyes scoured the large facility in look for a person. And right then is why he realized Maria was so damn adamant about him going to the greenhouse. 
Your hair was tied up like it was the night you stayed at his house. He recognized the flannel you had on as his own. Your jeans and boots were a classic look that almost every woman had around town. What he didn’t expect was the headphones and walkman clipped to your jeans.
Soft humms came from you. Joel was feeling conflicted; his ego couldn’t allow him to feel this way about you. But the way you do gracefully moved your hips and cleaned those carrots drove him nuts. The thought of you in his kitchen, the two of you cooking together brought warmth to the bitter man’s heart.
Bringing himself back to reality, he looked at the list Maria had scratched down for him. Maybe you could help him find a… butternut squash? He didn’t know there was more than one type of squash.
He stood in the entrance and waited for you to notice him; but you never did. You were so invested in that little sink that you never bothered to look his way. Joel took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to get your attention.
The fearless man began to tremble with anxiety. He cautiously walked over stray hoses and tried to keep his footsteps on the louder side, so you could maybe hear he was coming.
You yelped as he tapped your shoulder. The carrot you were holding in your hand fell into the sink.
“I’m sorry I-”
“Oh thank god, it’s just you.” you said out of breathe, holding your hand to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me,”
The music played through the headphones as you wrapped the cord loosely around your neck. It played long enough for Joel to recognize the song.
“Sinatra?” he asked, your music taste peaking his interest. You clipped the walkman to your belt, it now rested against the black shirt you had his flannel loosely on top of. “Ellie loaned it to me,” you said, grabbing a towel and drying your hands.
“Must be mine then,” Joel tittered, nervously playing with the piece of paper in his grip. Your eyebrows raised in question, ignoring the confirmation of your previous theory. “I loaned it to her a few months back, thought she must’ve lost it but… I guess not.”
“Do you want it back? Here, you can…” you nervously said, struggling to get the walkman out of your belt loop. “Keep it, really. You seem to like it more than me.” he said, again. “Oh, I have this-” you said, beginning to strip the oversized flannel off your body. “Here,” you said, balling up the flannel and reaching it out to Joel. “Nah, it looks better on you than me. Trust me,” he said, awkwardly refusing the gift of his own belongings.
He could imagine drunk you saying “He said it looked better on me,” as you did a few nights ago in his bed when he called you ‘pretty girl’.
Why was he giving his things to you?
You wrapped the flannel around your waist. “What can I help you with?”
He outstretched the paper to you.
“Maria’s cookin’?” you asked, walking past Joel with the confidence that you knew where you were going. Obediently, he followed you.
“Some stew or something, she says it’s good but…” Joel said, sucking in air sharply. “Not so good?” you smirked, reaching a planter and looking up at him. He shook his head no but then said “It’s delicious,” in a forced, sarcastic tone.
You pulled out the first vegetable and handed it to Joel. Moving along, you moved to the next planter.
“Is that what your doin’ tonight?” you asked him, going through the pea pods trying to pick out the best ones. “Yup.”
He stood for a second in silence as he felt like something was missing. “Would you like to come?” he asked, praying Tommy wouldn’t kill him and Maria’s stew would taste better than it did last time.
Your heart sank because you already had plans. “I’m so sorry,” you began. Joel’s face turned bright red.
He was right. He was too old for all of this. You were just interested in being friends, maybe not even friends. He was so embarrassed, he was ready to go back in his house and never come out again.
“I promised Ellie and Dina I would come over tonight. Have a little sleepover, if you could call it that. Definitely need a rain check though, I would love to some other time.”
That damn kid stole his date.
“Oh, yeah. No worries.” he said, the rejection ruining his confidence.
“I mean it though, rain check.” you said, piling more veggies into his grasp. That built back some of his shattered rizz.
You made your way to the front of the greenhouse, getting ready for the last produce. Potatoes.
You chuckled as you looked behind you. Joel’s presence seemed to fall back. He was struggling to keep all the produce in his hands.
“Would you like a bag?” you asked, slowly moving towards the woven bags hanging on the wall. “Would be nice,” he awkwardly chuckled, grabbing a falling bunch of broccoli from his hands.
“Here,” you said, opening the bag in front of him as he layed everything in. “Shit,” he mumbled as a stray carrot stalk fell. You both bent down to retrieve it.
His hand accidentally layed on yours for a brief second. It should have been a minuscule moment, but time seemed to freeze. You looked up into his gaze as you both stood up, still both holding the carrot. You never wanted this moment to end.
“Potatoes?” Joel asked. Trapped in his gaze, you answered “Huh?”
“Don’t I need a few potatoes?”
You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back into reality. “Uh, yeah. Follow me.” you said, trying to calm your heavy breathing. You could almost feel your heartbeat pumping out of your chest.
The green tops of the potatoes reached out of the grass. Inspecting each top, you slowly and carefully made your decision. “You sure know what your doin’,” Joel commented as you looked up at him from the leaves. “Botany is my passion,”
“By the way your looking at those potato stems, I believe you.” “Maria’s stew has to be good this time. I can tell this one is a good one because of how thick the leaves are. The bugs haven’t gotten to it yet because it’s in the middle, you see. They are full grown, these are the ones planted around the spring. There full grown and…”
You looked up at Joel and found him with a sly smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“I like ramblin’. Could listen to it all day.”
He wanted to say he could listen to you all day; Even if all you talked about was potatoes.
“At least someone enjoys my rambling.”
Memories of Bradley point blank telling you to shut up because you were explaining how herbs could be used in medicine once plagued your mind. Then, the memory of his face bloodied scurrying on the bar floor replaced those. And you felt that warm feeling again, safe with Joel in the greenhouse.
Selecting the perfect one from the middle row, you began to pull. And pull some more. “God dammit,” you muttered to yourself. Giving up, you moved some of the dirt around the root.
“Can you help?” you asked kindly, as pulling on it one more time was unsuccessful. Joel placed the bag of produce down and moved to a different angle.
You expected them to pull out easily when he went for them, but he was struggling too. “What you do to ‘em?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Locked in or something,”
You angrily decided to try pulling again.
“Let me,” he said. To your surprise, his hands came to your shoulders to ease the suspense of touch. Then, he moved forward bringing you into his embrace. His hands rested below yours. Your shoulders matched up almost perfectly with his broad chest.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. You could tell how warm he was, even with the heat of the greenhouse making the both of you sweat. His arms flexed on yours as he began to pull the potatoes up along with your grip. He pushed back and you followed his grip. Within a few seconds, the potatoes freed from the dirt and sent the two of you flying backwards.
You two landed back first on the dirt ground. The feeling of his arms were still around you, he was still holding you on the ground. He had let go of the potatoes and they were thrown down the isle.
The two of you burst out in laughter, staring at the ceiling of the greenhouse. You genuinely didn’t want to leave this moment; and neither did he.
“I totally loosened it for you.” you bragged, sitting up and looking down at him. One hand rested under his head, the other layed comfortably on his stomach. “Sure ya did.”
He took your hand as you helped him up. His knees cracked, and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. The two of you made your way to the washing station at the other end of the greenhouse.
“Potato,” you said in a stern tone. He placed one in your hand. “Brush,” you requested. He handed you the brush. You turned on the water and scrubbed the dirt off the potatoes. “Towel,”
“Yes ma’am.”
The two of you laughed as he played along into your antics. He was standing so close that his hips seemed to connect with yours. “Is that the last one?” he asked, drying off the fifth potato. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.
“Your welcome back any time to wrestle some potatoes again, if you’d like.” you said, following him to grab his original bag of produce. “Why don’t we take on the corn next week?” he asked, not wanting to leave. He just knew Maria would be bombarding him with questions about what took so long.
“It’s a date!” you said, mostly serious but in a joking manner.
Dina froze at the door. Ellie was making homemade pizza for that night and sent Dina to get some tomatoes. She was frozen, peeping through the door she watched. Dina had just gotten a front row viewing of you and Joel struggling with the potatoes, your awkward impromptu cuddle on the ground, and the romantic potato washing.
As Dina saw the two of you finishing your… encounter, she made her way quickly to the side of the building.
Ellie is going to love this.
***
“Ellie, your never going to believe-”
“Where are my tomatoes?” she asked, disappointedly. Dina burst into the kitchen of their small house frantically. “Forget the tomatoes, El. You’ll never guess what I just saw.”
“What, another stray cat? For the last time, no stray cats.”
“Joel and Y/N.” she said astonished. She took a place on one of the barstools next to the counter.
“What about them?”
“No- Ellie. Joel and Y/N, they were cuddling in the greenhouse.”
Ellie looked up from her dough she was making. “Dina, did you breathe in some outhouse gas?”
“No! I promise you. I was going to get the tomatoes, but they were just laying there. Then they got up and washed potatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wash vegetables so… sensually before.”
“I think your bullshitting me. Who cuddles in a greenhouse?” Ellie questioned, turning around and looking through the pantry. “Old stuff is going to have to do,” she sighed, pulling the old can of marinara sauce out from the back of the pantry.
“I wonder…” Dina began. “You remember how I told you about Bradley,”
“You remember how much I want Tommy to banish him?” Ellie reminded Dina. “Joel knocked that dude out!” Dina exclaimed.
“Yeah, but that’s just Joel being Joel. I’m sure he would do it for any one of us.”
“He walked her home!” Dina complained. “Your going to tell me there’s nothing going on there?”
“I think we should wait and ask Y/N. Not make assumptions,” Ellie sighed, giving Dina the side eye.
“They’d be cute, that’s all I’m saying.”
***
The sun was at the end of setting, the sky was a deep purple. You noticed Joel’s boot marks in the mud and how big they were compared to your feet. “Damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping in one of his prints. Another pair of prints seemed to circle around the greenhouse. They were similar in size to your feet and had a different shape then the bottom of your shoes.
Following the odd marks, they moved to the side of the greenhouse. And then made a straight line towards where you were going: Ellie and Dina’s house.
“Oh no,” you sighed, following either Ellie or Dina’s footprints. You prayed one of them didn’t see you with Joel.
You tried to imagine Ellie’s reaction to it. What would there to be mad about? You were just friends with Joel. Even though you had admitted to yourself he was just your passing patrol crush about a year ago, you were taking things slowly with this new found interest.
And he was older than you, there was that. Adults can make adult decisions, you reminded yourself. You and Joel were both adults that had experienced a lot in life, even though yours was a bit shorter than his.
Would Ellie be mad? Her… Joel and her best friend (besides Dina of course). You shoved the idea to the back of your mind as you knocked on their door.
Dinner had an odd vibe to it. Dina had already had a few too many glasses of wine, and you were avoiding the alcohol at all costs. The other night was enough for this week.
“Your not drinking?” Ellie asked, chewing down on her pizza. “Nah,” you said, briefly commenting.
“What, you pregnant?” Dina laughed, filling her wine glass up again. You almost choked on your pizza. “God Dina, no.” you chuckled. “I haven’t fucked Brad in… four months? I think I would know by now.”
“Gross!” Ellie cringed. “I’m trying to eat!”
“Sorry, sorry.” you jokefully apologized. “Anything… new? With you know, Bradley?” Dina asked. Something was up with her.
“Not since Joel kicked him on his ass,” you said.
Dina gave Ellie a strange look. “Yeah, I remember. Did he get you home alright that night?” Dina asked. You swallowed a bit of your pizza. “Mhm,”
You hated lying to your friends. Without the truth, you felt miserable. You wanted to tell them all about Joel and how you have been secretly borderline obsessed with him since that night, but word getting back to Joel might scare him off. And you didn’t want Ellie to freak out.
“Then how come I didn’t see your porch light on when I left with Maria?”
You froze in your seat.
“I’m just fucking with you,” Dina teased, pushing her hand into your arm. “You like him though, don’t you.”
Lying is one thing you were never good at. “He’s a nice man.”
“You like him though, don’t you?”
The lack of response and the quickening of your breathe didn’t help your case. “Dina,” Ellie said, stepping in to Dina’s drunken antics.
“He took you to his house, didn’t he?”
“I…”
The whole town of Jackson seemed more quiet than usual. Ellie looked at your face and could see the panic. Her eyebrows rose as her stare widened, watching you squirm in your seat at Dina’s question.
“Holy fuck! Did you fuck Joel?” Ellie asked, now realizing the reality in Dina’s games. She was right; Dina totally saw you two at the greenhouse.
“No! No.” you defended yourself. That was the truth at least. “I… I didn’t want Bradley coming around and…”
“Oh my god,” Ellie said, standing up from the table. “We’re just friends! He’s a nice man Ellie, you know that.”
“Then why did I see you two cuddling in the greenhouse today?” Dina muttered from behind her wine glass.
You sighed and buried your head in your hands. So the shoe prints belonged to Dina.
“Y/N.” Ellie said sternly, standing at her place at the table and crossing her arms. “Tell me the truth.”
You grabbed Dina’s wine glass and took a large gulp.
“I- I like him, okay? I think he’s handsome, and kind and considerate. Everything Bradley isn’t and everything I deserve.” you said angrily, getting out of your seat and slamming it back in the table.
“Dina, your a dick when your drunk.” you yelled, grabbing your coat and heading for the door as Dina giggled at her spot.
“Y/N,” Ellie said, grabbing your hand. She closed her eyes and took a long breathe. “Your being for real?” Ellie asked, her look turned more sincere.
“As real as a bite,” you sighed.
***
The three of you, now in pajamas, sat in Ellie and Dina’s bed. Dina was braiding your hair as Ellie layed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.
“Y/N Miller,” Ellie said out of the blue. Your head whipped over to where she was sitting, pulling your braid Dina was working on. “Jesus, El. A little too soon for that? I doubt it even,” you giggled. “In this world?” Dina asked. “I can lend you my white dress. With the embroidered flowers?” Dina suggested.
The memory of her embroidering those last summer resurfaced. “It is awful pretty,”
“And I can do your hair, hold on.” Dina said, undoing the braid she had been working on.
You felt her hands begin to work. “I just don’t know if he likes me back…” you sighed.
“Y/N. I know Joel. He wouldn’t just lay on the dirt floor with anybody.” Ellie assured you. “He barely speaks to anyone in Jackson as it is,”
“Would he even say anything? If he liked me?”
“Jesus, Y/N. This isn’t high school. Just tell him.” Ellie teased, sitting up in bed. “I’ll talk to him. Work some of my magic-”
“You better not!” you seethed, giving Ellie a glare. “Don’t embarrass me!”
“Ta da!” Dina announced, finishing putting a pin in your hair. You jumped off the bed and moved to the mirror.
It was in a low bun with a few stray hairs framing your face. It was so effortless and so elegant. “Dina,” you gasped, carefully cupping the bun with your hand. “I can make it ten times better, but just a thought.”
“I love it,” you gasped. “If I ever get married, you two are in charge of the wedding.”
***
Joel ate awkwardly at the table with Maria and Tommy in silence. The only noise in the whole house was the scratching of silverware.
“How was the patrol? Yesterday.” Maria asked both Tommy and Joel. “Alright,” they both said in unison. They definitely were brothers, men of very few words.
“Any news on the power plant improvement?” Tommy asked Maria. “I had some guys there today. So nice, working on their Sunday off.” she added.
“You know who works on Sundays?”
Joel’s fork stopped moving.
“I hear Y/N is running the greenhouse real nice.” Tommy said, already knowing the answer to Maria’s question.
“How was she, Joel?”
Joel looked up at Maria with a side eye. “Fine.”
“They’ve got blueberries now! Damn blueberries, I haven’t had any since before this shit. They were good,” Tommy mused, reminiscing on the delicious fruit.
“She’s a good chef too,” Maria commented. “Made some amazing salad dressing for the winter party a few weeks ago. Did you try her cookies too?”
“I remember,” Tommy added. “She’s gonna make a real nice wife some day.”
Joel’s fist hit the table a little too hard as he set down his glass. Both Tommy and Maria looked at him shocked.
“You alright?” Tommy asked.
“Can we change the subject?” Joel asked bitterly. “Why so angry? What’d she ever do to you?” Tommy pushed. “Goddamit Tommy,” he yelled, shoving his chair in.
“Thanks for the wonderful meal, Maria.” he hissed, lying and abruptly leaving their house. The picture frame on the wall shook a bit as he slammed the door.
“He’s down bad.” Tommy laughed. Maria sighed, her hands rubbing her temples. “Why do the two of you always seem to ruin a good night?”
“Hey, I barely did anything.” Tommy resisted with his hands in a defensive pose. “You know he likes her. The sheer mention of her makes him leave.” Maria commented. “God, I hope those two idiots find each other again. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” Tommy sighed, chewing away at his roast.
It was dark outside now. Joel could hear the whisps of the wind blow in the trees. Creepy if you’d ask him, but Joel wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Almost all the houses were dark; with the exception of a few porch lights.
He turned down the main street and looked at all the lights still on. Maria’s guys must have fixed the power plant, pls business signs were flooding the street with their light. He glanced up at Ellie and Dina’s apartment; it was over one of the textile shops in the downtown department. The lights were out besides the one outside the entrance.
He took a double take when he saw someone standing out there.
Moving closer, he recognized the crouched down figure trying to pick their lock.
Bradley.
He reached the bottom of the old metal staircase before making himself known. He cleared his throat loudly.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Bradley recoiled in fear, dropping the pocketknife on the metal landing. “It’s not what it looks like- I swear it Mr. Miller.”
“Then what does it look like?” he asked, slowly walking up each step. “I-I… Y/N invited me over. You know, lighten up the time with them. T-they had left over food she said.”
Bradley’s cowardly tone made Joel smile. He cracked a few of his fingers, intimidating Bradley farther and farther.
Joel knew Ellie. There was no way she would ever have leftovers; let alone invite anyone besides Dina to share them.
“You got about five seconds to tell me why-”
Joel was older and tougher, but Bradley was sly. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he dropped and swiped at Joel’s face with it.
Joel quickly ducked as fast as he could and kneed him in the gut. Bradley let out a loud oomf as Joel grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back. “Nice try,” he whispered in his ear.
Now behind Bradley, Joel gave him a rough push down the metal stairs and took great pleasure in watching him flail down.
Unfortunately, the front door flung open and he was met with a shot gun to his face. He sighed, waiting for Ellie to realize who it was.
She cautiously lowered the gun as she recognized Joel’s face in the dim light.
“I taught you too well,” Joel sighed, moving the barrel of the gun out of his range.
“What’s wrong?” Dina asked, peeking out from behind the wall. You weren’t far behind her, hopping on your tippy toes to see what the matter was.
“You fucking fuck!” Bradley yelled from the ground. He was rolling around, clutching his leg. “You broke my leg, you asshole!”
Ellie looked at Joel in confusion. “Caught your peepin’ Tom on my way home.”
Emerging from behind Dina, you recognized those two voices from anywhere.
“Joel?”
His eyes met yours.
“Y/N, I dunno if you wanna look.” Joel advised. Ellie stepped out of the way as you poked your head out the door. A small gasp came when you saw your ex laying on the concrete. “Bradley, what the fuck!” you yelled.
“Please, Y/N. Take me back, I promise to treat you better than that old, violent grandpa!” He yelled, still in a ball on the ground. Joel let out a small breath of air from his nose. ‘Grandpa is really the best you got?’ he thought to himself.
“Your fucking pathetic.” you called back down to him. “How did he know I was even here?” you said, turning around to ask Ellie. She shrugged. Your hands began to tremble. “Hey, hey.” Ellie said, recognizing the panic arising in you.
She gestured for Joel to come in. She flicked a lamp on as you sat on the couch. “I can go get Tommy and a few other guys, we can deal with him.” Joel suggested.
Ellie looked at you for confirmation. Your eyes darted from her to Joel and back to her. She knew what you needed in that time. You needed him.
“Let me and Dina go get Tommy. I doubt Brad is going anywhere anytime soon.”
Joel opened his mouth to resist, but then saw you shaking on the couch. He knew Ellie was more than capable of fucking this guy up, and he rather stay with you. Even if the fucking up of Bradley sounded oh, so appealing.
“Alright.” he nodded, watching the two girls pull on their coats.
“May I?” he asked, outstretching his hand referencing to the couch spot next to you. You nodded your head. He sat next to you, not touching you. Joel was unsure of how to approach this.
“Joel?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were glossy. “Yes?”
Without his consent, you moved closer to him on the couch. Your thighs were touching. The need for him to hold you right then was strong.
Joel let out a sigh of relief as he took your invitation of affection. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. You found comfort in his body, cuddling in and moving your arms closer to your body as he held you.
“Everything is alright,” he re assured you, taking his thumb and started slowly running circles into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry about what he said.” you sighed. “What- the grandpa comment? Pfft,” Joel chuckled. Your body moved against his as he laughed. “Doesn’t even phase me.”
“Well, he’s wrong.” you said. Joel looked down at you. “About what?”
“There is no way he could treat me better than you.”
A soft smile rose to Joel’s mouth. He wished he could hold you like this every night. The sweet smell of the rationed out shampoo filled his senses as he took another deep breath.
“Your damn right,” Joel whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your arm stretched along his torso, holding him tightly as the sounds of Bradley’s wails came from below.
***
At least an hour had passed. You had dozed off, leaving Joel alone in Ellie’s apartment. You were still connected to Joel at the hip, but your grip had loosened on his waist.
He looked down at you adoringly. He thought of almost every scenario as he waited for Ellie and Dina to return.
He had to ask you out. He wasn’t quite sure how, he figured Tommy could maybe give him some pointers. Or maybe Ellie, she seems to know what women like. And then dating you. He wanted to take you out to the fields outside of Jackson. A nice picnic maybe, you two could maybe bring some food from the greenhouse. He remembered how when he was a child he used to eat cucumber sandwiches (there better than they sound, trust me).
You could teach him the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber. You could be that balance in his life; something he had been searching for since he was a teenager.
He noticed your hair was in a falling out low messy bun. He imagined a veil coming out from it, and a luxurious white gown on you. Sure, he was getting ahead of himself. Little did he know you were discussing the topic of marriage just hours prior.
The fantasies about a lavish, non infected world wedding were diminished as Ellie and Dina made their way through the door.
“Shh,” Joel said, silencing their conversation.
“Aww,” Dina said, still a little tipsy from the night before.
“You should take her home. Bradley won’t be bothering her anymore.” Ellie said sternly. Joel noticed the bloodied knuckles on Ellie’s hand. Dina placed her baseball bat next to it’s resting place at the door.
“Hey,” Joel whispered, rubbing your shoulder. You groaned, holding him tighter. “Good morning,” you muttered. “Still night time, doll. Let’s get you home.”
You slowly woke up in Joel’s embrace. The scent of him sent you back to the first night you spent in his bed. “You wanna go home?” he asked you again. “No,” you protested.
“I’m sober,”
Joel looked at you in confusion. “Remember? ‘Talk to me when your sober’, or something like that?”
The memory clicked in Joel’s mind.
“I want to stay with you.”
Joel couldn’t resist. He helped you up from the couch. He grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and helped you put your arms through your sleeves.
“Is that a yes?” you asked him as he silently closed Ellie and Dina’s door. He sighed. “Sure,”
Walking hand and hand down the abandoned street, you began to humm the Frank Sinatra song from earlier that day. Joel listened to your sweet tune the whole way home.
As you reached his house, you kept the tune going again and again. Joel led you to his bedroom with his hand in yours. His alarm clock read a little after three.
“Get comfy,” he said, throwing his jacket in the corner. You dropped your jacket, leaving it by the bedroom door with your boots. All that was left was your jeans and your black tank top.
“You don’t care if I slip into something more comfortable, do you?” he asked. “Not at all.”
Joel stared at you awkwardly. “You want me to go to the bathroom or…”
“It’s your house. I don’t mind,” you said, boldly sliding off your jeans and kicking them into your pile. Your gray underwear was left on as you sat on the edge of his bed.
“Alright,” he chuckled, adoring your boldness. His pants came off and hit the ground with a thud. His heavy belt buckle made the noise. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of red flannel pajama pants.
“Look! They match the flannel,” you exclaimed.
He turned around, completely enamored by you. Your excitement, your pep, and everything else about you was just what he was lacking in his life. For the first time in years, Joel felt himself feel genuinely happy. It was scary for him, but he was ready to let go.
“Can I just say…” he said, walking up to you sitting on his bed. His right hand slowly cupped your left cheek. His thumb slowly, softly ran across your cheek. “You really do look better in the flannel in than me.”
He slowly bent down, giving you enough time to resist. To his surprise, you began to rise off the bed and connected your lips with his. Rising off the bed, you continued the kiss as you both took a few steps. His hand reached around your waist, finding a comfy spot on the bottom of your back. Your hands had moved to his hair, slowly playing with the locks in your fingers.
“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you smiled, still in his embrace.
Joel’s body melted into yours. “I… I really…” he struggled to say. “‘I really’ you too,” you said, expressing to him that it was okay to be afraid. But you were there, and was ready for anything at any pace. His soft eyes seemed relieved at the confirmation of the now mutual feelings.
“Let’s get some sleep, hm?” you asked, sitting back down on the bed and breaking from his embrace.
His body held yours. Joel’s arms protectively kept you in his embrace. The four legs intertwined and kept each other warm underneath the blanket. You pushed into his figure, making yourself feel more secure than ever.
As he held you in bed, the tune began to sing again in your head. In a before sleep epiphany, you remembered the lyrics.
“But I still fall in love too easy, I fall in love too fast,” you whispered. Joel’s head burrowed in the nape of your neck. A tiny kiss was placed there in confirmation of what he had just heard.
Happiness consumed the both of you.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @rosie0611 @vivalasv3gan
#peterparkersnose#pedro pascal#joel miller#the last of us#the last of us hbo#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller the last of us#joel miller imagine#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x female reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller series#joel miller headcanon#pedro pascal x female reader#pedro pascal joel miller#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal fan fiction#pedro pascal angst#troy baker#the last of us part two#ellie williams#dina the last of us#tommy miller#maria the last of us#peterparkersnosework
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Pool Party || Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: You have a crush on a certain someone who seems intent on ignoring you. Your teammates decide to do something about the tension between you and Jessie.
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), It's a little smutty?, Grinding/Semi public sexual content?, Mutual pining, maybe a swear word, a smidge of angst if you squint, mostly fluff, no editing so good luck soldiers
Word Count: 3.5k words
A/N: I'm not really sure what this is, but enjoy?
From the second that you’d met Jessie Fleming, you’d been trying to figure out ways to get closer to her. Of course, you found her to be incredibly attractive and had known of her existence ever since you’d faced off against the Canadian midfielder in a friendly. It had been an especially important game for you, as you’d made your senior international debut that very day.
That day, and every day since, the way Jessie played entranced you. Everywhere you stepped, the girl was your shadow, slipping in front of you and intercepting balls that were sent your way, and then zig-zagging around you whenever you tried to take that ball back. The girl had been a pain in your ass in that game, to say the least, but it had been a massive learning experience for you, and it had lit a passionate fire inside of you.
As you’d gone up against her again and again, you found more reasons to like the girl. The way her cheeks reddened as she played, and the physicality she showed in her playing style. However, it became more than that– the respect and kindness with which she approached other players and fans, and the way she interacted with a child in her jersey, lifting them up to take a picture with them and sign their jersey. The more you played with the girl, the more you noticed about her, and the more you wished you knew more.
After a few games of playing against each other, you managed to gather up the courage to ask to swap shirts after the match. Jessie had given you a hug, shyly congratulating you on your performance. You noticed that, under the scent of sweat and grass, the girl smelled of cinnamon, and her embrace was warm.
You were shocked that night when your phone had pinged from your nightstand on your bedside table. You’d leaned over to check, and saw a notification that Jessie had followed you (back) on Instagram. You were nearly over the moon, the grin which split your face open quickly noticed by your teammates around you. You were quickly the butt of many jokes and teasing words, but you didn’t mind as Jessie had followed you back.
Did that mean you were friends? Were you overthinking it? You were totally overthinking it. You contemplated sending Jessie a message, maybe congratulating her for how she’d played, but you never gathered the courage that was required to perform such a daunting task.
You’d always thought that your little crush would be just that, a crush. Admiring the girl from afar, but never getting close enough to get to know her in a way that would turn the crush into something more. You’d accepted that long ago, having almost moved on from Jessie and the childish crush you’d had on her.
However, the announcement that Jessie was coming into the NWSL, to your very team, shocked you to your core. You would have been lying if you’d said you still didn’t have feelings for her, although you managed to push them out of the way to make room for… friendlier feelings. Now that you were, essentially, coworkers, you felt that it would have been inappropriate to harbor the same crush that you’d had over the years, especially as you were certain that it wasn’t returned.
While you knew that Jessie didn’t have the same feelings towards you that you had for her, you were still confused as to why she almost acted as if you didn’t… exist. She brushed off each of your attempts to go out and explore the city together and show her around. She would give you small smiles every time you greeted her each morning for training, but rarely returned your greeting. In the rare occasion that she was paired with you in training, the girl rarely even looked at you, nevermind speak.
You would have believed that Jessie’s attitude was due to her being new to the team, but she was getting along quite well with the rest of your teammates. Fairly enough, she spent much of her time with her fellow Canadians, Christine Sinclair and Janine Beckie.
However, she was often found talking with Sophia Smith or juggling with Olivia. She was rather friendly with quite literally everybody on the team… everybody but you.
Your mind pondered listlessly over what you could have done to upset Jessie. You couldn’t remember having made any reckless tackles on her, or said anything rude to her on the field. Sure, you had a reputation for both… but you hadn’t done either to Jessie. Sure, maybe you’d told one of her teammates (you think it was Cloé Lacasse?) to shove her boot where the sun doesn’t shine after it had clipped your shin as she’d tried to snap the ball away from you. But it wasn’t as if you’d said anything overly criminal to Jessie herself, or even to any of her teammates.
Weeks went by in the same manner, with you quietly pining over Jessie whilst simultaneously trying to figure out what you’d done to upset her. What you didn’t know, however, was that Jessie was having almost a similar internal debate as you.
She’d noticed during the game that you’d debuted for the United States Women’s National Team. She never would have admitted it then, but you’d given her a run for her money despite it being your first time competing internationally. Jessie had had to pull out all of her stops to keep you from slipping past her, and she’d finished the match absolutely exhausted.
Since that match, she’d kept a careful eye on you and your development– both as a player and a person. She watched as you grew out of your shell, into an opponent who was consistently relied upon by your teams. She noted how you gained confidence in the way you played, taking risks that a younger you would have shuddered at and they worked each and every time.
Jessie couldn’t deny that any time one of your highlight reels or edits popped up on her phone, she’d watch the entire thing through.
Sometimes, if the… music… was really good, she’d watch it a few times. Purely to take notes on your tactics, of course, not because she wanted to take in every ounce of your existence that she could on the pixelated phone screen. Totally not because, sometimes, and only sometimes, your eyes made Jessie’s stomach do flips and turns in her stomach, or that your smile made Jessie feel almost… lightheaded.
She actually despised herself for how long it had taken her to follow you back on Instagram, since she rarely used the app and had never seen that you’d followed her in the first place. It had taken a search for your name for your page to come up, and she’d felt almost… giddy, when she saw that you’d already followed her.
Jessie wasn’t stupid, she knew that the way she felt about you was more than purely platonic. When she came to Portland, she knew that she needed to bury those feelings that she had for you, as there was no way that you’d feel the same back.
And so, she tried to remain nonchalant when she interacted with you. She smiled at you, nodding in greeting when you said hello to her each morning, and she made sure that the relationship between the two of you was like one between coworkers.
And so the two of you continued, quietly pining for the other. Your teammates were growing tired, having long ago noticed how you’d stare at Jessie and look away when Jessie looked towards you. Jessie would do the same, zoning out as she looked at you and quickly diverting her gaze whenever you’d turn to look at Jessie. Your teammates felt the tension between the two of you, and it was, admittedly, a little bit awkward for the others.
It was Sophia’s idea to have a team bonding night to see if they could get you two, and the rest of the team, a little bit closer. You weren’t even sure whose house you were at, but you were instructed to bring a swimming suit, as you were having a day out in their pool.
Of course, you forgot a swim suit… and nearly died when you arrived just as Jessie was doing a cannonball into the pool, causing a wave of water to cascade down onto her Canadian teammates, who all looked displeased. Jessie stuck her tongue out at them from inside of the pool before treading water to get to the side.
She used her arms to hoist herself out of the pool, and your mouth grew dry. You actually raised your hand and wiped at your chin to make sure you weren’t salivating. You cleared your throat awkwardly as you caught sight of Jessie’s hard abdomen and muscular arms as she pulled herself free of the water.
Diverting your attention elsewhere, you could feel how heated your cheeks were, and Sophia caught sight of you from across the pool. She smirked, before making her way over to you.
“You made it! I wasn’t sure you were even coming, you sure took your time.” Sophia’s words were light, teasing. You smiled at her, feeling suddenly shy after Jessie’s unintentional… show, you supposed. How did one achieve the arms and abs of a Goddess? You wondered if you should ask Jessie, because there was no way someone could look that good without even trying and, quite honestly, you wondered how her muscles and silky skin would feel beneath your ha-
“If you’re going to pass out on me, give me a heads up so I can record it, please.” Someone snarked, breaking you out of your reverie. You turned to see another of your teammates, Olivia Moultrie, grinning at you.
Behind Olivia, you watched as Jessie did a flip into the pool, the move causing your stomach to do its own flips. Your cheeks managed to redden impossibly further, and you shook your head slowly. Have flips always been so attractive? You never remembered having been so captivated by-
“Not gonna pass out.” You mumbled, and Sophia frowned.
“It’s pretty warm out today, are you sure? Maybe you should hop in the water, just in case.” Sophia said, voice almost… faux in its concern. Your brows furrowed, and you shook your head again.
“No– I’m oka-”
Hands were on your shoulders, pushing you towards the pool. Before you knew what was happening, you were being shoved into the pool. You shouted out as the ground disappeared from beneath your feet, not at all having been ready to take a plunge into the water.
You fumbled around, hands slapping uselessly at the water. That was the other issue that you’d never mentioned– you didn’t know how to swim. Nobody had ever bothered teaching you, and by the time you’d realized that it would have been a useful skill to have learned, you were utterly consumed in soccer and it was too late.
You kicked uselessly at the water, unable to keep your head above the water long enough to catch anything more than a short gasp of air before you were underwater again. Against your will, you were panicking. Your lungs were burning, legs burning and stomach heaving as you fought feebly against gravity and the liquid which was keeping you from air.
Then, strong arms were around your middle, dragging you up. Your head broke the surface of the water, and you coughed out as you were finally able to take a deep breath of fresh air. You tried to kick out, to get out of the water, but the arms around your stomach just held you tighter. You were pulled against a hard body, and someone was breathing harshly in your ear. Over the scent of chlorine, you smelled cinnamon, and as the person spoke you felt yourself relax against them.
“Hey, hey I’ve got you. Calm down. You can touch the ground here. It’s not too deep.” Almost… tentatively, you allowed your feet to reach out and touch the ground. Instantly, you grew embarrassed, having nearly drowned in water that was barely reaching your chest. You’d panicked, and immediately you started apologizing to Jessie, who had just been forced to “rescue” you from four feet of chlorinated water.
What a way to impress your crush. You were a loser.
From above, you saw Sophia appearing a little sheepish, giving you a little smile as she waited to see what your reaction was to being pushed in the water by her. You glared at her, shaking your head.
“A little warning next time would be nice.” You said, and you heard Jessie huff out a short laugh from behind you. You would have done anything to hear that noise again. In fact, you were trying to push all of your attention onto Sophia so that you could avoid thinking about Jessie’s skin on yours, her arms still wrapped firmly around you. You felt safe.
“It’s not like I expected you to drown in four feet of water!” Sophia defended herself, trying arduously to decipher whether you were truly angry or not. You knew that the girl had meant no harm and, after all, it had been a pool party. You had expected to get wet, and you should have had your suit, and it wasn’t as though she knew you couldn’t swim– it wasn’t a fact you bragged about, of course. In that moment, you decided to forgive Sophia, and Jessie swore she fell for you a little more.
You could have, and had every right to, rip Sophia a new one for shoving you into the water, but you’d chosen not to. Instead, you laughed off the event, and Sophia appeared to calm down as well, laughing with you.
Then, Sophia dismissed herself, saying she was going to go grab a towel for you.
The rest of your teammates had forgotten all about you already, consumed in their own antics. Now, it was just you and Jessie. Jessie, whose arms were still wrapped around you.
Before you could lose courage, you turned yourself around so that you were facing the black haired girl. If you wanted to, you could have leaned in just the barest amount and kissed Jessie. Something told you that she wouldn’t have minded, if the way she looked down to your lips as you turned was anything to go by.
Instead, you spoke.
“Thank you– for saving me.” The words were pathetic, causing your cheeks to redden again. Jessie laughed a little, the sound setting off the butterflies in your gut once more, something which you felt was a constant when it came to the Canadian midfielder.
“I’d hardly call that saving. It was like watching a fish drown in water!” You frowned at the analogy, glaring at the girl and catching her eyes. You knew what drowning felt like, having felt like you were drowning only a few minutes before.
Even still, the way you got lost in Jessie’s gaze was an entirely unique way of drowning, and one that you would have happily drowned in any day.
“I thought I was drowning!” You defended yourself, voice rising in pitch as you laughed a little bit. You felt Jessie’s chest rise and fall as she breathed, so close that the two of you were practically breathing the same air. The thought was driving you nearly mad, so close to everything you’d been thinking about since you’d ever met the girl, nearly unable to hold yourself back.
“Clearly! You looked like you were drowning, too.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes nearly teasingly, and when your gaze returned to Jessie, you realized she was back to staring at your lips.
“Is there something on my face?” You asked, and Jessie swallowed, throat bobbing in a way that conveyed intense nervousness at the question you’d posed.
Jessie had spent years pining over you, had swallowed down her feelings and pushed them to the side more times than she would ever be able to count. She’d done it in the name of her career, and in the name of her team.
Now, however, she wanted to do something for herself. She had forgotten about the people who surrounded the pool, her new teammates who weren’t really paying attention to the two people in the pool anyway.
Jessie’s soft hand came up to cup your cheek, and her eyes met yours again.
“Just a really pretty pair of eyes, and a gorgeous face, and really kissable lips. Speaking of– could I-” Jessie was, as always, cursing herself for how incredibly awkward she sounded. She’d wanted to sound suave, and cool, and calm and collected but her heart was beating like a jackhammer in her chest, so loud that she felt you could hear it if you were paying attention.
As it had it, you were busy paying attention to your own heart, which was threatening to beat right out of your chest. You were wondering if you were having a heart attack as you allowed your hands to loop around Jessie’s neck, clasping behind her head and tugging her into you further.
Just before your lips met, you whispered. “Please, do.”
And so Jessie did. Your lips met, and everything in the background seemed to blend into nothingness. You almost felt like you were back underwater with how everything faded but Jessie. All you knew was the feeling of Jessie’s lips against yours, moving fluidly against your lips.
Hers were smooth, and she sucked on your bottom lips gently as her other hand stroked at the skin of your hip, having strayed beneath your t-shirt. The kiss was gentle, and a little bit reserved, and a part of you would later be mortified at how you were making out with a “coworker” in front of your other “coworkers” but another part of you knew that you’d waited so, so long for this moment that you were completely unwilling to live more of your life without experiencing a kiss with Jessie.
It was short, so much shorter than you wanted it to be. However, as you pulled away, Jessie’s cheeks were red and she looked at you almost… shyly.
“Yeah, we’re going to have to do that again,” You decided for the both of you, and Jessie nodded eagerly, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the steps of the pool. “Where are we going?”
Jessie continued to tug you behind her, around the corner of Sophia’s house and towards a shadier area, away from prying eyes. As soon as everyone else’s gazes were off of you, Jessie was tugging you into her, turning so that you were pressed up against the fence.
“We’re doing that again, of course.” Jessie said, before pressing her lips back against yours.
Her lips were firm against yours, taking and taking and taking from you as, once again, she sucked and nipped at your bottom lip. She swallowed a moan that escaped your lips, making sure to keep quiet despite the loud music which boomed from a speaker where the rest of your teammates were.
Pressing up against you, Jessie ran her hands up and down your sides, tongue slipping into your mouth as you parted your lips again. The pleasure that you felt was immeasurable. Everywhere Jessie touched was alit in flames, and you felt like you were on fire.
Jessie’s tongue slid against your own, exploring you in a way that she’d never had the chance to do before, and which she planned to do again and again and again.
Before Jessie could really think, her knee was pressing up against you, between your legs. Her thigh was flexed, meeting the area where you throbbed for her, and another moan burst from your lips.
You rolled your hips against her, the friction rubbing deliciously where you needed it most, and Jessie swallowed yet another moan from your lips. You knew that you couldn't get too carried away, given that your teammates were only a few feet away, separated by a wall. However, you couldn't help it.
Jessie had basically lost all sense of control by now, but as she heard someone ask where the two of you had gone, she was quick to back up. You were panting, but had also heard Sophia ask where you’d gone off to.
Jessie stepped into your personal space again, fixing your wet shirt and pants for you before planting a firm, but quick, kiss against your lips.
“How about we go out for dinner tonight? We can… talk about this.” Jessie, despite having you completely desperate and wanting for her minutes ago, was back to being awkward and uncertain. You nodded slowly, leaning over and planting a kiss to her cheek before the two of you reappeared from behind Sophia’s house.
Sophia glanced at the two of you, before a sly smile grew on her face as she realized that her carefully plotted plan had worked, taking in your reddened cheeks and disheveled states. After handing you a towel to dry off with, Sophia was quick to pull out her phone and text her separate group chat with just a few of your teammates.
Soph: “Operation Pool Party: Success”
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hi!! this is the same anon from earlier and i saw you wanted to write for james potter. and i’m so sorry if you’ve done something similar. so maybe after a quidditch match, win or loss, all james wants to do is lie and bed with reader and hug her. but they’re not dating and he ends up confessing too, still tired, he doesn’t even realize he’s admitted his feelings
thank you again for your time:))
-can i be ‘🎀 anon’? lolol
hi lovely 🎀! thanks for your sweet words and adorable requests 😊 i hope you like it!
pairing: James Potter x reader
tags: fluffy fluff, some angst, gn reader if you want
word count: 1.9k
Cuddles and Confessions
So close. So bloody close. And to bloody Slytherin to top it off? The defeat stung worse than any other James could remember.
As he lumbers back up toward the castle after the match, frustrated and furious, some Slytherin fans jeer at him from across the lawns. It pushes him over an edge, and he turns to — well, he’s not sure to what; berate them? beat them up? — a strong hand grabs his shoulder and turns him back around.
“Easy, mate. They’re idiots but they’re not worth it,” Sirius says easily. Sirius of all people being the voice of reason has James realizing maybe he needs to calm down.
James falling into step with Sirius without a word, the two make their way back up to the castle.
When they get to the common room, it’s packed with mad and sad-looking Gryffindors consoling each other, complaining about bad calls, bad-mouthing the Slytherins: a typical post-match defeat.
“Thank Godric,” Sirius sighs, heading immediately to a small table stacked with firewhisky. He grabs two glasses, but James stops him before he fills the second one.
“No thanks, mate. Don’t really feel like the company,” he says, scanning the room. He admits to himself there is one face that would have made him stay, one person whose company was actually the only thing he wanted right now. But he doesn’t see you. So he stalks off, bounding up the stairs to his currently empty dormitory.
He’s lying on his bed, tossing a ball up and down when he hears a soft knock.
“What?” he yells, the harshness of his voice even surprising him a bit. Surprise shifts to horror when your beautiful, blushing face peeks around the door.
“Hi, Jamie,” you say shyly. “I’m sorry. Sirius said you wanted to be alone. I should’ve listened. I didn’t mean to annoy you. I’ll just —”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he rushes, going over to you and pulling you into his room. “I’m so sorry, love. Please don’t go.”
You smile a bit at this, looking down at your feet before nodding slightly.
“Ugh, I’m a prick. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” His voice is soft now, warm and enveloping as you look into his pleading eyes.
“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I get it. Rough night, huh?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, smiling for the first time all day. You had a way of bringing that out in him.
“Want a hug?” you offer. He nods immediately, internally cringing for being so uncool in front of you.
“Yes please,” he half laughs.
You step close to him, and even this increased proximity has him reeling. He can’t wait to feel your warmth around him, to smell your hair as he nuzzles into you.
He’d been hoping to win tonight’s match for more reasons than one. He hated Slytherin for starters. He loved winning for seconds. But also, he had been hoping a Gryffindor victory party could be the perfect place to finally tell you how he feels about you. Firewhisky flowing, adrenaline pumping, maybe he’d finally have the courage he was supposed to have as a Gryffindor and tell you the truth.
You bring your arms up around his shoulders, pulling him close to you, bringing one hand to his messy hair and scratching comfortingly. James’s large body immediately melts into yours. He hums into the crook of your neck, and you giggle.
“Thanks for coming to check on me,” he whispers into your shoulder, holding you close.
“Why would I want to be downstairs wallowing with everyone else when I could wallow with you?” you tease, pulling back slightly to be face to face again. He hates how much he just wants to pull you back into him.
“Oh, I’m much better company than those wankers,” he plays along.
“Yes, I’m sure. Seems you’re quite chipper from your greeting.”
He cringes and whispers “sorry” again. You shake your head quickly, wanting him to know you’re only teasing.
The silence stretches a bit too long, neither of you knowing what to say. It’s especially awkward because your hands are still on his shoulders, his on your hips.
“So what were you doing?” you ask, coming up with nothing better.
“Just lying in bed, wallowing,” he confesses.
“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. You break apart from him, the tension becoming too much and head over to his bed, plopping down onto it. He laughs and follows, sitting close next to you. “What do you want to do?” you ask, your voice low. “I came to cheer you up, but I think I’m doing a bang up job so far,” you chuckle, scrunching your nose.
Before thinking about it, James brings his hand up to your face, lightly tracing his finger down your nose for you to relax it.
“You’re not,” he says earnestly. “I’m already better, just having you here.” He thinks he feels your face warm where his hand still caresses it but pushes the idea down, not wanting it to be wishful thinking.
“So what do you want to do?” you ask again gently.
“Honestly?” he asks shyly. Nervous was a weird look on him, usually so cocky.
“Of course,” you giggle in your warmest tones, wanting him to be open with you, relishing in the intimacy you seemed to be building.
“I want to keep lying in bed wallowing.”
You stiffen immediately, chiding yourself for misreading his nerves. He wanted you to leave; that’s why he seemed shy.
James sees — and feels — you tense at his words, and luckily for him, he realizes right away what you’re probably thinking. He continues before he can stop himself, dreading your leaving more than dreading saying something stupid.
“With you,” he adds hastily. He feels himself blush, hates it, but pushes on. “I want to lie in bed and wallow… with you,” he repeats more softly.
“Oh,” is all you can think to respond.
“I mean, just hang out, you know. I just… you just… I just like hanging out with you. And even just your hug made me feel better,” he rambles sweetly.
You smile and pull away from him a bit. Before he can be disappointed, though, you’re pulling him with you as you shuffle further back onto the bed, lying down and bringing him horizontal with you by the shoulder.
You’re lying next to each other, both tense, facing the ceiling, your sides grazing but nothing more. You look over at him, and he looks at you, and you both look away like idiots.
You take a deep breath, reminding yourself he literally just told you he wanted to be here with you, clinging to that to give you the courage for what you were about to do. You turn toward him and bring your hand up to his hair. His eyes snap to yours. First they show shock but that quickly melts to adoration. Then they show nothing at all as they close in comforted bliss. You chuckle softly and see the corners of his mouth tug up at the sound.
“Feels nice,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” you whisper too. He just nods.
You shuffle closer to him, and he turns his body towards yours. Your arm is cramped now between your two close bodies, so you do the reasonable thing for comfort, you tell yourself, and wrap your arm under his shoulders. His face coming to the crook of your neck, you miss the huge smile that breaks out on it at the contact.
He’s lying on your shoulder now, the rest of his body flush with yours. Your arm is around him, your hand coming up to continue playing with his hair. James brings his arm over you, hugging you close, and you place your arm on top of his.
It crosses James’s mind that friends don’t cuddle. But he stops his internal monologue in time to savour the moment rather than over-analyse it, which he’s bound to do later.
You just lie there in silence for a bit, the tension having eased considerably.
In your warm, comfortable cocoon, you bring your face closer to the top of his head on your shoulder and nuzzle him a bit. He just hums in response.
“You’re comfy,” he says. It sounds muffled, his mouth squished against your shoulder. You laugh, and it shakes him up and down the slightest bit.
James loves the feeling of your vibrating chest just below him. He can’t help himself and tickles you where his hand rests near your ribcage. You laugh louder. You hold down his arm to stop him and playfully shake him off a bit to protect yourself from more tickling. His grip tightens in response, and he’s almost on top of you by the time he’s done adjusting himself.
“No, no, don’t go,” he chuckles. “I’ll stop.”
Your laughter has mostly subsided, but your voice is raspy as you respond, “Promise?” He nods into your shoulder. “Fine. I’ll stay if you behave.”
He laughs, squeezes you, whispers, “Promise.”
Any tension that had been left has dissipated completely, and you fall into easy chat as you hold each other close. Your hand continues playing with his hair, tugging it when he says something stupid. His arm draped over you occasionally squeezing you more tightly whenever either of you says something nice. You go over the highlights of the match, lamenting the result. Without realizing it, you start talking about any and everything else, and by the time the conversation lulls for the first time, both of you chuckling lightly, James wonder how much time has gone by. Not enough, he thinks to himself, wishing this would go on forever.
The quiet, your hand in his hair, your warmth radiating around his body, it all soothes him into a half slumber. It washes over him how exhausted his body is from the match, how tense it had been from the fury at its result.
“This is nice,” he slurs.
“Mmhmm,” you hum.
“I’m not even mad anymore.” He sounds astounded even in his sleepy tones. You chuckle.
“Good.”
“Mmmm. We’ll prank the Slytherins tomorrow. And I’ll think of another time to tell you how I feel.” Your hand halts its motions. James is still completely relaxed, and you realize he’s pretty much half asleep, not truly realizing what he’s saying.
You don’t want to take advantage of him in this state, but you want to be honest with him too, and he clearly wanted to talk to you about whatever this was.
So, you warmly whisper, “How do you feel, Jamie?”
“I love you,” he mumbles. You’re melting at his words, and you can’t wait till tomorrow to say them back. You shift your weight so you’re more facing James than under him, and this rattles him a bit more awake. His drowsy eyes are heavy initially but then they startle slightly. Before he can worry or regret, you hold his face gently in both your hands, your thumbs caressing his cheeks.
“James…” He just looks deeply into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed, not saying anything. “I love you, too.”
His face shifts as if in slow motion. His eyebrows rise; his lips smile widely; his eyes crinkle.
“You love me?” He sounds equal parts giddy and disbelieving.
“Yeah, I love you, you grump.” He chuckles. “You love me?” you echo.
He takes his time responding. Scanning your features adoringly. Eventually, finally, calmly and assuredly he says again, “I love you,” nodding as he closes the little distance between you.
Your kiss is slightly awkward at first, your lips smiling automatically at his words before realizing they’re being called on to take on new, intoxicating shapes.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter fanfic#marauders#marauder x reader#marauders fanfic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#harry potter fanfic#sirius black
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