thinking about bakugo katsuki, who just wants to prove to you more than anything that he'd be an amazing boyfriend.
it begins with little things.
he tells you if there's something on your face, if there's something in between your teeth that hinders your beautiful smile. he tells you if your tie or uniform is out of place but can never hold back a 'be more careful, idiot' as he helps you fix the stray mistake. he looks away when you laugh at his preciseness. he stops your cup of water from falling over, puts his hands over any hazards that will hurt if you bump into them, all those kinds of small things.
he gives you all of his attention when you directly address him. whether it be a comment, a compliment, or a question, bakugo always gives you 100% of himself as long as you're direct with him.
even if you don't specifically speak to him, he always listens too.
you could be talking to mina about a movie you watched and bakugo will be listening, leaning back in his seat, not even looking in your direction yet his ears are ENGAGED, he's taking in every word you say. he even searches the movie up later.
not that he wants to watch it- bakugo has no time to waste on these things. he's saving it for when he can watch it with you.
he always watches your reactions first whenever in a group. whether it be in class and being told about some exciting projects - internships, camps, whatever, bakugo always keens to gauge how you respond. alternatively, it could be bakugo and kirishima's turn to make dinner (bakugo carries), and the second it is served bakugo's watching intently for your reaction.
(he only agreed to making dinner because kirishima bribed him. how? well, he mentioned your name and bakugo got straight to washing the vegetables.)
his little acts then evolve. he saves seats for you at lunch when you can't make it to the cafeteria in time or when he knows you're too busy that you won't make it in time to get a portion of your favourite lunch, so he buys it for you.
you always thank him for his kindness and begin to repay him but bakugo always rejects it, waving you off. 'don't do it again because i'm not doing this for you again', he mutters and you simply smile because you both know there is a next time.
he grabs your hero suitcase for you, going out of his way to do this for no one else but you. he accepts your pleads for help whenever there's something from the classwork you can't understand, smirking triumphantly at deku and momo - the top students of the class, who are confused at bakugo's sudden smugness.
eventually you get comfortable with him, to the point that physical touch is not a big deal anymore. the first time you take the risk was laying your forehead on his shoulder from fatigue and almost everyone around you gawks at the collected expression bakugo wears.
you had muttered a quick 'sorry' as you lifted your head up but the blond grunts in response, not sure how else to say that it's okay and you can lean on him any time.
denki then tries to do so and almost gets half his hair charred off.
it then evolves to the point that bakugo's known you long enough to have memorised your orders at fast food chains, cafes, boba shops, etc. and he often buys your favourite snacks whenever he visits the local 7/11, and when he delivers them, you give him the brightest smile he's ever seen and the explosive blond knows that the slow decrease in funds of his bank account is totally worth it if it means he gets to make you happy. he often masks his feelings with a 'tch' before storming off.
90% of bakugo's language is insults, but he is mindful to never throw them at you. he doesn't want you to doubt yourself for one second, whether it be your strength, smarts, beauty, etc, he's mindful to exempt you from his 'extras' phrase, because you're probably the only special one to him from everyone in the class.
and he knows you're special because one night, you take him outside the dorms and onto the balcony, asking him out on a date and he almost explodes himself into the air with joy. his cheeks fluster up- so uncharacteristic of him, and he tries to keep up a 'cool guy facade' whilst accepting your offer.
"get ready, cause i'm about to take you out on the date of your fuckin' life."
"wh- bakugo, i was the one who asked!"
"and i'm gonna be the best boyfriend ever, so leave this shit to me!"
thinking about bakugo, who is known to be hard-to-date, unapproachable, unlikeable unless he kept his mouth shut.
thinking about bakugo katsuki, who is absolutely 'the best' boyfriend ever because you have never doubted his love for you for a single second, and he makes sure you never will.
HIS SAFE SPACE
paring -> bakugou katsuki x f! reader
an -> i dont really write stuff, but i decided that I want to write this so let’s see how far this blog will go. English isn’t my first language so please correct my spelling or grammar mistakes ! :)
another an -> sorry if it’s long and unnecessarily detailed.
summary -> bakugou finds you as his safe space, he promise he won’t let you go. but what if his family don’t really like you?
warnings -> cussing, down talking, tell me if I missed any!
series m.list - pt.1
“get it off!” you screamed loudly while jumping around in your best friends dorm, you were peacefully doing your homework with Bakugou in his dorm before he spotted a cockroach.
“There! i got it off.” he exhaled before he picked it up and set it out his balcony. “get your ass back to work.” he ordered you, and you obeyed, he was helping you with your math homework.
“Yessir!” you happily and peacefully sat down back in your seat.
“You finally got it right,” he gave you a clap on your back. “Thanks for helping me today. I really appreciate it, kats.” you smiled as you packed away your books, “no problem, but stop calling me kats.” He angrily yelled back at you while walking to his closet. “It’s so cute though.” Kats was a nickname you gave him back in your first year in u.a.
“W-what are you doing?” You asked when you suddenly turned to him and saw his taking off his uniform shirt. “Getting ready for bed? Not like you haven’t taken care of those scares on my back before.” He stated back while being completely calm, while you on the other hand, turned away from him and placed your books and notes in your backpack.
“whatever, I’m going back to my dorm.” You said shyly. “Wait. Y/n.” He stopped you before you stood up from your seat. “How do you really feel about me?” That was an out of pocket question, “um? I think of you as my best friend, you’re grumpy but you’re very caring.” You stated back while looking away from him.
“I see.” He told you while he walked to his bed and sat on it. “Why are you asking? How do you feel about me then.” You asked back now curiously, “I think you’re hardworking and respectful, and extremely beautiful.” He spat back almost not thinking about his words.
“B-beautiful?” You stuttered back.
“Yeah, anyone with a pair of fucking eyes can see.” He said, and you definitely didn’t miss the red on his cheeks, “thank you. i think you’re..” you stopped thinking thoughtfully about your words, “you’re also very..good looking.” you were clenching on your bag straps, “only good looking? babes I’m fucking hot.” he was getting too full of himself so you decided to walk out before you say anything stupid.
“Thanks for helping me kats, see ya tomorrow.”
“BAKUGOU! WAIT FOR US PLEASE!” denki and mina were chasing after the blond begging him to give them the homework answers because they forgot to their own homework, too busy hanging out at some ramen place.
“Fuck off, ain’t giving y’all shit.” He brushed Kaminari off his shoulder, “Bakugou pleaaaasee!!” Mina stood now in front of him and giving him puppy eyes, “I’ll give you 1440¥ / 10$” Kaminari offered, Bakugou knew those two losers weren’t getting off his back and he might as well take the money.
“Hurry your asses to class.”
“Alright I’ll help you two one by one, Kaminari you’re the bigger problem, so you go first, what’s your problem?” Bakugou sat in his chair while he other blond friend sat in front him showing him the questions he struggled to understand, “correct. Now do task 120.” Bakugou pointed in the textbooks as Kaminari continued on writing down, “no, that’s not how you solve it.” Bakugou face palmed himself for the 5th time, “correct, now the last task, dunce face.” Bakugou exhaled, “thank you bro, I really love you, no homo.” Denki made a kissing face towards his explosive friend before handing him the money he promised him, now it was Mina’s turn, she was a half a problem. Kaminari walked out leaving the two of them alone.
“No you dummy, That’s not how you do it.” Bakugou flicked minas forehead as she sat in Kaminaris previous seat trying to solve the math problem, “here give me your eraser.” Bakugou tried to grab the eraser from between her fingers before someone walked in.
“Hi y/n!” Mina exclaimed, this was an awkward moments Bakugou and minas fingers tangled together.
“hi Mina.” You said slowly before you walked to your seat and placed your bag, you didn’t even glance at Bakugou which was something extremely unusual.
“Did you two get into another fight.” Mina asked before she pulled her finger away from bakugou’s, bakugou knew he didn’t do anything wrong at all, but he still couldn’t look at you for some reason, “no we didn’t actually. I’m going to the canteen with kiri now, want something?” You asked your pink haired friend and when she shook her head no, you walked out again. Mina continued with her talking, but Bakugou couldn’t focus on anything she was saying, he only cared about the fact that his best friends name rolled off your tongue so easily, you even called him by his nickname, katsuki really thought he was special when you gave him his own nickname.
Aizawa ended todays lesson, and students were packing and heading to the dorms, you were putting your pencil case in place before your best friend appeared in front of you.
“Y/n. Come with me.” It was Bakugou. He grabbed to your hand and took you to the rooftop. “Katsuki! What is it?” You stopped running once the two of you were at the very top, you pulled your hand away from him.
“Y/n, listen this might sound very selfish, but…” he stopped picking his words, his back facing you because he was too embarrassed of the shit he is about to say, “but?” You asked, not so patiently, “but I want you to look at me, and only me.” He said quickly before he tuned to face you. Your face beginning to heat up.
“W-what? What do you mean?” You asked while you could feel your face burning up, “let me be your boyfriend goddamn.” He said in a low and soft voice.
“I’ve been looking at you since the one time you risked your hero career to save me in our first year. You are always on my goddamn mind. Always so hardworking, strong, and so goddamn gorgeous, I love everything about you and those stupid nicknames you give me, and I don’t want you looking at anyone else but me.” He confessed in one long breath, you could see that this confession took a lot of courage from him. He stood there patiently waiting for your replay.
“Katsuki I— I feel the same about you.” He could swear that he could feel his heart drop, he has been in love with you for the past three years here in u.a, and he doesn’t believe that you feel the same about him.
KATS <3 [ are you coming soon? ]
YOU [ BE PATIENT 🤨 ]
KATS <3 [ HURRY BEFORE THE FOOD GETS COLD ]
YOU [ alr alr ]
five days after Bakugou’s confession to you, you were sitting in your room at your parents house, it was the weekend and Bakugou had invited you on a date to his family home to have dinner with him, at first you couldn’t believe that he had been interested in you for this time, but now you were putting last touches on your make up, before you grabbed your purse and walked downstairs to the door.
“you are all grown up y/n.” Your mom yelled from behind as you walked closer and closer to the door, “you’ve gotten prettier too.” She rested her arms on her hips.
“thank you mom, wish me luck, I’ll be back by the evening.” You simply stated before you walked out the door and headed towards katsukis family home.
“Finally, took you long enough.” He began scolding you, while he was doing that he helped you inside.
“Your parents house is really pretty katsuki.” You exclaimed, “yeah, cmere.” He grabbed your and and pulled you towards the kitchen, “sit down.” He ordered, you obeyed.
“Here’s your plate.” He handed you the portion of food before he sat himself beside you on the counter top, the two of you spent what seemed like forever on this tiny portion of food, but you were happy together sharing laughs and smiles, you of course couldn’t go a day without teasing bakugou. When you finished the food you got up and started helping Bakugou with doing the dishes. “You don’t need to help, it’s a few plates, can get em done in a minute, besides you’re my guest today.” He said while washing the dishes, “but katsuki, im not just a guest I’m your girlfriend.” You turned away from him while crossing your arms, “yeah yeah, whatever just go sit on the couch or something.” You thought that he had a point and sat yourself down on the nearest couch, few minutes later and he still wasn’t done washing, “katsuki! Are you sure you don’t want help.” You yelled at him so he could hear you clearly, “im almost done.” You were too lazy to fight back at this point.
You sat peacefully for another three minutes on your phone waiting for your boyfriend to hurry his ass to you, but then you heard shuffling down the stairs, a woman with blond spiky hair and a pair of crimson red eyes just like your boyfriends, you stood up quickly out of respect as you figured out that it was his mother. She walked towards you and eyed what was going on quickly.
“Hello there, is she your friend katsuki?” She asked her son who was drying his hands. “Girlfriend actually.” He finished drying his hands and walked towards you. “Hello, I’m mitski, this brats mom.” She gave you a little friendly smile, “hello ma’am, I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You told her with a bigger smile than the one she gave you. Though you could tell she didn’t exactly get the best impression of you as you were sitting on your phone while her son was doing the dishes.
“You’re gonna scare her off, hag.” Katsuki yelled at his mom as he sat down in your previous seat on the couch. “Be respectful kid, have fun or whatever.” His mom finally said before walking off leaving the two of you alone. You stood there silently, not really knowing what to say or do.
Though from katsuki’s point of view this was unusual, because everytime he brings a girl home for a project his mom would be freaking out with excitement and asking trillion of questions to the girls who didn’t really show interest in Bakugou and neither did he, so why did she not react the same towards you. you figured that you had to give her a better impression of you while you had the chance. Bakugou pulled you down beside him on the couch breaking you out if your thoughts.
“what do we watch?”
It’s been 4 hours since you arrived at your boyfriends house, and it was getting late. “I think I should go home kats.” You whined while trying to break out of his arms, “it’s late, you sure you don’t wanna stay over?” He said while letting you go and turning off the TV. “Nah it’s okay, we’ll see each other tomorrow.” You smiled at him while rubbing his cheek, you stood up and walked to the entrance of the house, soon after he followed you. Helping you in your coat.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You smiled at him as you opened the door, “aye the fuck you think you’re going. It’s 10pm you think I’ll let you walk alone.”
“Thanks for walking me home, I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” You smiled at him while squeezing his hand a little bit, “alright good night.” He slowly bent down to kiss your forehead, “night kats.”
The second he opened the door to his house he saw his mom standing in the kitchen, “hey.” He said slowly while taking off his jacket and shoes.
“katsuki, are you sure about her,?” His mom asked him, he could feel that she chose her words carefully. “What do you mean.” He said as he walked closer to the kitchen counter. “I mean, what kind of girlfriend is she, if she sits on her phone as if it was her own house while her new boyfriend is washing the dishes?” Mitski asked her son while frowning. “I was the one who confessed to her and asked her to come over for dinner, in addition I was the one who told her to sit down, in fact she asked me if I needed help.” He stated carefully trying not to start an argument with his mom late at night.
“whatever katsuki, I’m just worried about you.” She said while exhaling, “no need, night.” And just like that, the blond teen was off to his room.
“Ahhhhh!!! I can’t believe this is the last time we are going to be together!!” Mina yelled while crying her eyes out.
“Alright alright there, calm down.” Thanks to Kirishima he picked her up before she fell on the floor, again, crying.
“Not to mention, these three years here at u.a flew by.” Midoriya smiled while looking at everyone. Since the first year, he was considered the class leader even though class reps aka, Iida and Yaoyorozu were right there, it’s just that many considered him as their leader. “It sure did.” You answered back while smiling out the window.
“That doesn’t mean we have to separate! We are still a big family!” Kaminari jumped excitedly, trying to change the vibe that was taking over. “Course not, we still have our group chat. And we can hang whenever.” Sero said while trying to bring his energetic friend back to earth.
“Alright Mina. That’s enough. Let’s get you a tissue.” Kirishima exhaled while bringing the pink hero along with him. “There is definitely something with these two.” Uraraka snickered to you. “You think so?”
“Mr. Aizawaaaaa!!! I’m going to miss you sooooo much!” Mineta held onto the older man’s leg, while Todoroki respectfully bowed at him, thanking him for being a good father figure for him.
Class 3-A, had just finished their graduation ceremony, and everyone was now ready to start their own lives, “take care mr. Aizawa.” Kirishima smiled gently, while dragging Mina once again so she doesn’t start balling again.
“Take care everyone!” Aizawa yelled at his, now graduated class. Man, he was proud.
“Where do you think you’re going?” You felt suddenly a bigger hand grab your wrist, “oh! Katsuki. I was going home. Where else?” You questioned him. “You think I’m just gonna let you go home after we just graduated?” He smirked, “let’s drop our bags at my place and go.” He said while running with his hand in yours. “You can just say that you’re taking me on a date, idiot.” You laughed. “Shut up.”
“Here give me your shit, I’ll put it in my room, wait here.” Bakugou took your bag from your hands and ran upstairs to his bedroom. While you stood awkwardly at the entrance.
You were laughing at some stupid cat video on your phone, and you didn’t notice the figure standing in front of you. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while Mrs. Bakugou.” You shamefully put away your phone and turned your attention to her. “Well, nice of you to notice. How is my son with you?” She asked while grabbing a drink from the fridge. “It’s going well ma’am. As you know we just graduated and our life is just starting.” You smiled at her, she returned the smile but you could feel that your answer didn’t really satisfy her. “Y/n, let’s go—hi mom.” Katsuki said quickly while running down the stairs, “careful son, don’t want you tripping down the stairs, your girlfriend can wait a few seconds.” She said while looking at her son.
it was a fact, but the way she stated it hit you quite hard, but you didn’t want to make trouble so you went along, “your mom is right kats, we have all day, don’t rush okay?” You said before he could respond. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, I’ll be off.” Bakugou put his shoes on and took your hand and ran out.
“It was so much fun. Thank you katsuki. Really, thank you.” You thanked the blond while walking hand in hand with him.
“I thought it would be nice to spend some time together, because you know, it’s all starting now and we wouldn’t be as free, as we are now.” He smiled at you, and you returned the smile back.
“Thanks for this duck, I’ll treasure him.” You looked down at the yellow stuffed animal he got you. “Him?” He asked, “yes him! He’s my son.” You laughed, “your son? What are you? A kid?” He asked you while laughing, “that’s right, and you’re not the father!” You let go of his hand and started running. “Hey!”
After a few meters of running, he finally caught up to you, “hey y/n.” He said slowly, “hm??” You hummed back. “Don’t think about my mother, and what she said and—“. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not mad and I’ve already forgot about it.” You smiled at him, but he was not buying the bullshit you’re giving him. But a part of him decided to let it go this time. “Alright, if there is anyone who bothers you, weather my mom or not, I’ll make sure they don’t see the light again.” You laughed at that statement.
“Do you think they’ll approve of us?” Katsuki asked while his hand was in yours, you both were at the entrance of your family home. You were going to tell your parents about dating katsuki, and he was going to ask for their permission to let you live with him.
“Of course, kats. Don’t worry about it.” You said while quickly giving him a kiss one his cheek. “Cmon let’s enter.”
You opened the door and stepped inside, still hand in hand with your boyfriend.
“Mom! Dad! We are here.” You said while taking off your shoes and walking inside.
“Hello, young man.” Your dad walked up to Bakugou, you quickly gave your boyfriend a sweet smile, assuring him that it’ll be okay while walking away to sit on the couch. “Good after noon, sir. My name is Katsuki Bakugou.” Your dad took out his hand to shake bakugous. Your boyfriend was thanking god that his hands weren’t sweaty.
“Have a seat, dear.” Your mom told the explosive blond who was frozen at the entrance of your door. “Yes, thank you.” He respectfully said while walking and sitting next to you on the couch. Shortly after, your parents followed and sat on the couch in front.
Your mom sat down a few snacks before she took a seat next to your father.
“Mom, dad. This is my boyfriend. As he said, his name is Bakugou Katsuki. We’ve been dating for a little while now, and he’s really sweet to me.” You stated that as if it was the most causal statement, while the blond next to you was slightly shaking. “Bakugou Katsuki? Haven’t you won every sport festival your school arranged.” Your dad asked, while leaning a little bit forward. “That’s correct, sir.” Bakugou answered with a smile.
“What’s your quirk again?” Your dad leaned back, crossing his legs, and asking again. “Explosion, sir.” Bakugou answered while taking his palm out, letting little explosions escape his palm. “Wow, interesting.” Your dad said with a smirk. “Don’t mind him, he’s really interested in quirks.” You laughed to ease your dads pressure on your already nervous boyfriend. “Son, what do you see in my daughter.” Your father asked him while wrapping his right arm around your mom.
“In my eyes, y/n is the prettiest, smartest, and strongest girl I’ve ever seen. I really like her because she is strong willed and friendly to everyone. She is a true inspiration, even to me. And I would like to date your precious daughter with marriage in mind.” Katsuki spoke while locking eye contact with your father. Your dad simply let out a little laugh. “Alright son. I’ll leave this troublesome girl to you.” Your dad said while smiling. “Hey!” You yelled. “We still have another thing that we want to discuss with you.” You spoke softly while looking at your boyfriend, who looks like he had calmed down a little bit. “We want to ask if—“ you were cut off. “Sir, ma’am. We would like to ask you if you would let y/n move in with me.” Katsuki said with all of seriousness. “And I promise to protect her and keep her happy.” You looked at him, genuinely shocked, you never thought he would say such stuff about you. “Wonderful! A girl like my daughter could dream of dating and moving in with someone like you Bakugou!” Your mom exclaimed while clapping her hands together. “We approve, but if anything happens to y/n, I will make you pay, kid.” Your father looked at him. “Of course, sir.” Bakugou finally said exhaling.
“Alright how about we continue this around the dinner table?” Your mom said happily.
- - -
“Y/N! My sweet daughter..even after you move out please always visit us okay?” Your mom cried while holding your hands together in her owns. “Of course ma, don’t worry about it. You’ll never miss me.” You told her while hoping it would calm her down.
“Bakugou, take care of my daughter. I’ll leave her to you, always make sure that she’s happy.” Your dad said as he pulled out his hand to shake Bakugou’s, “of course sir, you’ll never see or hear her complaining about anything.” Your boyfriend said as he took your fathers hand and shook it.
“Okay mom, dad we’ll be leaving now. Bye bye!” You said as you grabbed your boyfriend by the arm and walked out the door.
“I can’t believe it went well, honestly went better than I have expected.” Your boyfriend spoke as you noticed that he has calmed down.
“In my eyes, y/n is the prettiest, smartest, and stronges—“ “shut the hell up.”
“Alright place it right there.” You said as you sat on your and your boyfriends new bought couch. “How about you get your lazy ass up and help me?” Katsuki asked as you snickered at his question.
Your boyfriend had bought a fresh new house for the two of you, when he said he wanted to move in with you, you truly thought of an apartment and not a whole house, but that meant that he was so serious about you.
“Alright alright I’ll get up.” You said as you jumped from the couch and out to the front yard, you were getting your last few packed boxes from the moving van that your parents rent out do the two of you.
“I still can’t believe you bought a whole house.” You said as you walked upstairs with your skincare and make up boxes in your hands. “Obviously dumbass, I have no time to lose between moving from an apartment to a house.” Your boyfriend spoke harshly as he unpacked kitchen supplies. “Alright calm down.”
The house was huge, with both front and backyard, two story house with balcony on each story, a large kitchen and living area, 2 bedrooms with a bathroom in each, a walking closet in the master bedroom and a bathroom on the first story for guests, and on top of all that it had large windows and fences. But what you truly liked was the beautiful front yard.
Your boyfriend decided to give you the bathroom and the walking closet in the master bedroom, after you begged him for ages and then threaten him by telling your dad. For him, he decided he’ll just put a normal closet in the bedroom.
You spent a few minutes unpacking your skin care and make up products, and headed out again to get the last few stuff.
“Alright babe. I’m done with the kitchen, how does it look?” Your boyfriend stopped you from going out again, he made it so perfect, everything was in place, from supplies to containers to seasonings, he even put a vase with roses on the counter for you.
“Looks lovely, thank you kats.” You said as you pecked his left cheek sweetly.
And after a total of 3 days, 7 hours, 50 minutes and 45 seconds, the unpacking of your and your boyfriends house was completed. Everything was perfect, clothing, decor, products, furniture, carpets, dinning tables, and the advanced security system of the house was completed.
“Ah! Finally I’m super tired!” You said as you stretched your whole body on the couch, “at least we’re done now. And it’s time to get back to normal life.” Your boyfriend said from the kitchen, “where did you even get the money for all of this?” You asked as he shot you glare, “my life savings for 19 years. Plus my parents support.” He laughed at the last part. “Make sure to thank your parents for renting out the van and the new tv.” He told you as he ran upstairs, your parents liked your boyfriend so much that they bought the two of you a brand new expensive tv, you smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, and drifted to sleep on the couch for a couple of hours.
“Hey you idiot! Wake up” your boyfriend poked your cheek, “wake up” and poked it again, and again.
“What? What time is it?” You said as you got up from the couch, “it’s 7pm you’ve been sleeping for 4 hours, when you said you were tired I didn’t know you were that tired.” He laughed at the end, “shut the hell up.”
It’s been three years since you and Bakugou moved, a lot had changed since the first day and right now.
You two were 22 year olds living in a large expensive house together, he had almost reached his goals on being the number one hero, he is currently Japan’s number two pro-hero, known to the public as dynamite. Your boyfriend was known as this strong hot headed hero that a lot of girls were fan-girling over.
You worked in the same agency as your boyfriend but in a different department, you were in charge of the tracking team, as in tracking villains and their main bases, you were also in charge of the medical team.
So both you and your boyfriend were pretty busy, but that didn’t matter, because whenever you and Katsuki would have spare time, the two of you wouldn’t waste a second of it.
Katsuki’s routine was that he would get up early in the morning and come home around 7-8pm depending wether he has patrols or not, while you would have work midday at 11-12 and come home around 9pm, and that excludes special occasions.
The two of you lived a perfect life but something was off, and that was exactly that you never really got along with your boyfriends mother.
Everytime either Bakugou’s parents would come over or you would visit them, she would always have something to complain about. Wether it’s your outfits, how you smell, how you behave or talk, cook or treat her beloved son.
You don’t know the reason why, but you wouldn’t really believe that it was because of the poor first impression you gave her, or if she only catches you on the worst moments.
When you cooked dinner for your boyfriends family Mitsuki complained that it was too spicy or too salty, or if you bring them flowers she would say that she doesn’t like the Color or the smell or the flowers, moral of the story, you would never satisfy her.
And those would only be the comments around your boyfriend and Masaru, while when it’s only between the two of you she would tell you things that truly hurt, such as, “he should have chosen someone else” or “women are throwing themselves on him right and left and he chose you.” Or even “I don’t know what he sees in you.”
But you had to tolerate the things she says so you don’t ruin the relationship between katsuki and his mom. Though he always stands up for you whenever she makes small comments, in his point of you, he thinks that she has grown comfortable with you to show you her true Color’s, but that wasn’t truly the case here.
Back to present, today was your day off and what makes it even more exciting is that your boyfriend is getting early off work.
You were upstairs in your bedroom brushing your hair when you heard your phone ring.
“Hey kats? Where are you?” You said sweetly as you put the hair brush down, “come outside.” Bakugou said as he quickly hung up. You did like you were told, grabbing your phone and wallet and going downstairs, you locked the door behind you and headed towards your boyfriends car, “hey! I didn’t get to see this morning.” You said your quickly wrapped your arms around his slander waist, “hey babe, get in the car.” Katsuki said as he opened the door for you and walked to his own side of the car.
“Where we going?” You asked as you fastened your seatbelt, “to the park.” He said simply and started driving. Katsuki remained silent while you went on how your day off was so relaxing, he loves listening to you after all.
When the two of you arrived to the public park, katsuki took your hands in his and started walking with you inside, you both had a special place here, and it’s usually at the very back of the park, they usually had your favourite flowers there.
“What’s the reason of you being such a sweetheart today, hm?” You joked while poking his cheek with your index finger, “do you want me to be an ass or something?” He said as he removed your finger off his face, you both sat down on a bench, sitting close while his left arm is around your shoulder, “maybe? What kind of ass?” You asked, katsuki hated whenever you made those type of dry ass jokes, “shut up, woman.” He huffed, “where do you think we’ll be in the future.” Bakugou asked after a Monet of silence.
“Hmmm, maybe I’ll get a cat.” You tired to sneak your way out of this deep conversation, Bakugou threw his head back then glared at you, “I’m serious, like in three years or so.”
“I hope we’ll be married, with a cat,” you laughed for a second, “probably the same house cause I’ll never want to move out of it. And I hope we can become better hero’s.” You said as you leaned on his shoulder. “Y/n.” Bakugou said as he stood up from the bench, he stood in front of you and slowly bent down to his knees.
Suddenly, the winds were blowing softly, and there was nobody around, only the two of you, dressed up so nicely at this time of the day, the sunset looked so beautiful as he pulled out a little red box, and opened it slowly in front you, revealing the most gorgeous silver Dimond ring you had ever seen, placed so nicely behind a plain silver ring.
“Katsuki—don’t tell me.” Your tongue was so twisted right now, “cmon you idiot, you know what I am going to say and don’t make me say it,” he said as he smiled sweetly at you, “I think you’re going to have to sacrifice your ego for this katsuki.” You said smugly.
“Fine.” He simply said, “marry me y/n, let me be your first, and hopefully last husband. I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy.” He confessed, those words were probably the sweetest words you’ve heard come out of this man’s mouth, you didn’t replay for a split second before handing him your left hand, he rose up half way and pulled out your ring and placed it slowly around your left ring finger, before you did the same to him.
“Promise me that you’re going to get me a cat?” You asked him while he now had his arms wrapped around you, “as many as you like.” Katsuki said before he pressed his lips to your for a second and pulling away.
That night you both slept like babies, and ended up late for work the next day.
He’s Got Me, I Can’t Break It
chapter one | masterlist | chapter three
Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader
Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements
Notes: Toji is a total weirdo in this series but I relate to the reader bc she is like 🥰 but that's daddy I love him 🥰
Warnings: 18+, dubcon, age gap, alcohol consumption, fingering, pussy job, unprotected sex, manipulation, gaslighting, orgasm denial, blowjob, implied cunnilingus, smoking.Words: 4.9k
Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.
The man in your bed didn’t stop you as you tugged the blanket away from him and wrapped it around your body. It didn’t bother him that you retreated to the balcony attached to your room to finish your cigarette in solitude.
You had laughed, sure, but there was nothing funny about this. The whole incident had scared you sober. In fact, it was humiliating. It was mortifying to think you had gone against your better judgement and brought a stranger home to fuck from the club. And it was even worse as you felt your lover’s sperm trickle down your inner thighs as you sat comfortably outside, allowing the chilled Parisian air to consume you.
You feel tears well in your lash lines and your eyes become damp and glossy the more you think about it. It feels like a betrayal that you let him talk you into bed. Or speak you into bed more like, since you hadn’t understood a word of French the entire time. The foreign language and the seductive tonality practically spread your legs for you. You tuck a hair behind your ear and wipe the singular droplet that spills from your eye speedily, refusing to allow yourself to be a damsel in a hopeless situation. You take a drag of your cigarette and begin to feel anger over upset.
He spoke English the entire fucking time.
“Do you want me to go?” he wonders.
You almost jump into space as the shock of his presence rattles through you. The way he knocked casually on the glass window and stood confidently waiting to force your attention to him. He snickered when he saw terror take over your body in multiple forms once he had startled you. It wasn’t his intention, but it was amusing, nonetheless.
“It’s up to you,” you begin, “you paid to stay the night.” you finish, taking a drag of your cigarette and looking out to the twinkling night sky above you.
A smile adorns his handsome features as he huffs a sigh of amusement. He hadn’t bothered to cover or clothe himself, clearly confident in his appearance and nude status. He sits on the seat opposite to you, unfazed by the cold furniture as it bites at his skin. The man slams the pack of cigarettes on the table between you as well as the lighter. He feels better knowing they’re there, it won’t be long until he finishes the one he has already and he’s sure he’ll be desperate for another.
“Are you pissed at me?” he queried. Your eyebrows scrunched as you scoffed at the pathetically woeful sentence.
“Oh, do you want a fucking well done sticker?” you questioned rhetorically. Before he could answer, he allowed you to stub out your cigarette and use your trembling fingers to light another. They’re usually helpful for when you’re stressed; but while he’s nearby you doubt you’ll ever know the feeling of calm again. “Do you know how violated I feel? I feel sick, too, because I bet this isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this shit.”
“No, don’t be like that.” he commands. You look at him with disdain, unable to comprehend how he can possibly think he’s in any position to be giving orders right now. “I don’t give a shit if you believe me princess, but I don’t do one-night stands. ‘m more of the settling down type.” he tells you, following your lead and lighting a new cigarette for himself.
“I don’t care. Don’t want your life fucking story you bastard.” you berate as you puff out a plume of smoke, tapping the ash over the balcony.
He doesn’t speak anymore, the two of you instead sit in silence indulging in your cigarettes. The sound of traffic and thousands of blurred conversations traverse into the atmosphere and into your hearing. It’s hard to lose yourself when there’s so much going on. You’d like to focus on one thing, one simple thing to forget that he’s still here with you. But you can’t. Everything sounds like nothing. But your eyes flit around hoping a sight will distract you rather than a sound. It was beyond your control when your vision landed on him. He’s right there, legs spread wide like he owns the fucking world. If you were sitting bare like he is you’re sure he’d take great pleasure in telling you what a slut you are.
Even soft his cock was a sight to behold. It was so very lewd, too, since neither of you had cleansed your body of the deceitful union you’d shared moments ago. The light from inside your hotel room reflected on his sticky, sinful member and you couldn’t help the way your cunt fluttered as you recalled the way he bullied his cock inside of your walls.
Your eyes shot up to his as he snapped his fingers at you.
“My eyes are up here darlin’. I know it’s pretty but it’s rude t’stare.” he teases.
You snarl and stand to your feet, you’ve had enough, taking yourself indoors to finish your cigarette off alone. And then you’ll sleep soundly, you hope, knowing that when you wake up he’ll likely be gone. This entire ordeal will begin to feel like nothing but a distant memory. A disapproving growl erupts from the depths of your lungs when you see him stub his cigarette out against the glass window and throw the butt over the balcony railing, hurrying indoors to follow you.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.” he tells you, casually, leaning against the door as you burrow underneath the bedsheets. The words go in one ear and out of the other as you find the sentence too idiotic to even process. It’s the understatement of the century, you think. Unable to understand how one man can be so so foolish.
“Just be quiet, I want to sleep.”
“Tell me to go and I will.”
“Fine, go. Go away, please. I’m tired and I’ve had enough and I’m sick of looking at you.”
He stands stoically for a moment as he rationalises what you’ve just told him in his still drunken mind. Instead of heading towards the exit and retrieving his clothes, he gets closer to you. Closer… and closer… and closer.
And then he’s forcing your body into the centre of the bed while he hovers above, caging you beneath him. You try to push him away, but you both know it’s futile. He’s probably the biggest man you’ve ever seen in real life – in more ways than one. Pretty green eyes vibrate as he stares fixedly into yours. They dart to your throat as he can’t help but admire the spit glob slowly slithering down your windpipe. You’re unsure of him, terrified of him. It’s hard to figure out whether he wants you to be scared of him or not.
“I don’t want to go.” he admits. The way your chest rises and falls beneath him doesn’t go unnoticed. He runs the back of his knuckles over your forehead, your cheek and then down to your clavicle. And you wince at that, eyes scrunching tightly as you hope he won’t force himself upon you. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Then get off me.” you phrase the demand as a suggestion, hoping he’ll obey.
“I just want you to listen to me sweetheart, understand me.” he speaks so softly it’s almost a whisper. It was pissing you off, honestly, that everything he said seemed like it had a greater purpose when you knew it was far from the truth. “Tell me that wasn’t the best sex of your life.”
“It was, wasn’t it? The way we fucked, it was the best you’ve ever had.” he speaks assumedly, acting as if he knows exactly what thoughts are swirling around your overwhelmed brain. Your mouth falls open and closes a few times, unable to find a suitable response.
“It was the best fuck of my life,” he confesses. You feel like he’s talking so fast your head is spinning. “And you know why it was so good, right? Because it was exciting. The anonymity. It was a rush, you get that. Don’t you?”
“No!” you lie, you understand completely. Because the first thought you had after you finished fucking and laid comfortably in bed by each other’s side was sheer amazement that despite a language barrier you managed to get him into bed. Regardless of the fact you couldn’t understand each other you have never felt so perfectly taken care of and filled.
“I don’t believe you; you know exactly what I’m talking about.” he responds, hissing as he rolls away from you. Freeing your body out from under him and granting you permission to do whatever you want. “Lie to yourself all you want but you’re playing yourself out of a good thing.” he finishes, heading over to his clothes to pick up the discarded material at the entrance. Is he finally readying himself to leave?
“W-Wait.” you mumble. He turns to you, unable to believe that you’re not hastily rushing him out of your room. “You… paid to be here. I suppose you can stay the night.”
You don’t need to tell him twice. His clothes are thrown down onto the ground once again as he ambles towards you. He doesn’t need to rush to your side. Not now, not now that he knows he’s got you. The duvet is pulled up, the sudden gust of wind forces goosebumps to ripple throughout your body. The chill soon subsides when the black-haired stranger gets in beside you, he pulls your body against his once more. You manage to reach over to turn out the light on your beside table, plunging the room into darkness.
The chilling situation you’ve found yourself in doesn’t seem to register in your messed up mind. Although you feel sober you’re still under the influence. Under his influence, too. It’s not even given a second thought as you begin to drift off in his arms after everything he’s done. You should feel foolish, angry, terrified. And yet, you’re allowing yourself to shift into unconsciousness.
That is, until you feel him practically growl in your ear. You’re too hazy minded to be appalled, but the sensation of his naked hips rolling against the fat of your ass isn’t lost on you. The arm that had been wrapped around your torso travels upwards to your breasts, forcing your body even closer to his and giving you no chance of wriggling away.
He manoeuvres his cock so that it can be sandwiched between your folds. You’re too tired to object, but little huffs escape your exhausted lips and he knows what you’re trying to say.
“Just let me,” he moans, “you’ll feel good too.”
He doesn’t insert himself inside of you, he just fucks himself between your slick and sperm covered lips. It can’t be denied that his cock head nudging against your clit doesn’t feel heavenly. And you know as soon as you cum you’ll slide into a comfortable sleep. So, you let him. His free hand slithers to your front, added stimulation to your throbbing clit. He basks in the sounds of your breathy pants as he brings you closer to your peak. He’s moaning, loudly, just as he had a little while ago while he was brought closer and closer to his own pleasure. You spasm on him, the alert that you’ve orgasmed is enough to topple him over the edge of his own. He kisses into the crook of your neck as his cum spurts out of him in heavy, thick bursts.
You feel warm, and disgusting.
And so very tired.
You wake up a measly four hours later. Your head is pounding and you can barely bring yourself to move. The room is spinning and you already know it’s going to be a long, difficult day. You found yourself waking up whilst lying on your back, the man next to you is sleeping on his stomach with one arm over you. His hand settled comfortably on the fat of your breast.
A boisterous, singular snore pulls from the man’s throat before he wakes to the sight of you smiling at him. He smiles before raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
“Were you watching me sleep?” he asks.
“I just woke up too, I swear.” you grin, knowing he was teasing by the soft yet gruff tone he spoke with. You gasp as he pinches and pulls the nipple on the breast his hand had been resting on. He rolls onto his back, rubbing the terrible nights sleep out of his eyes.
“Suppose I should get out of your hair soon, huh?” he questions.
You sigh, knowing he’s right. You’ve had your fun sure, but it’s a one-time thing. Hooking up with strangers in Paris everyday definitely isn’t the plan, and you’re sure Nobara would have something to say about it if it was. You knew you’d miss how incredible the man’s cock made you feel, but you valued your friendship with Nobara more. He leans over to pull another cigarette from his carton and realises it’s surprisingly light.
There’s only two left.
You debate it, ultimately shaking your head. He’s surprised to see how eager you are to jump out of bed as you grab something from your side table as well as taking the box from him. When he asks what you’re doing, it takes a while for you to respond, but eventually you alert him that you’ve tucked his final cigarette into his jeans for him.
He thinks you look a vision, right now. His beautiful eyes comb over your body as he admires every inch of you. A necessary cough clears his airways as he tries to mask the way his cock jumped at the sight of your thighs. More specifically, the way he could see his kids on your inner thighs with each step you took back towards him.
You couldn’t deny that you were still ravenous. It doesn’t feel like you can possibly have enough of him. One more time, just once more and you’re sure you’ll be able to kick this newly found addiction to the curb.
He settles his cigarette between his lips as you get comfortable on the bed, lowering yourself to be eye level with his semi-hard cock. You feel it spring to life more as you begin sinking your mouth onto him. Your throat becomes his plaything as a heady grunt leaves him, cigarette smoke pouring from his nostrils like a cartoon bull.
Don’t look at him, his eyes warn you. Your ruined eye makeup and glistening eyes looking at him like that is enough to make him erupt. So you mustn’t look at him. But he doesn’t want you to stop. How could he when you look like this? He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know what he needs. Just you, that’s all he knows. All he wants, needs and desires is you. God, how dare you be like this for him. How fucking dare you be such a good little cock whore for him after what he did. His hips roll gently into your mouth, each thrust closes off access to your airways. You feel him twitch in your mouth, he’s close. His balls are tightening, and his eyes are scrunched so tight. He wants to cum. He needs to cum. But not like this.
“Sit on it, fucking sit on it now.” He orders, yanking you up by your hair and helping you position yourself above his shaft. “Put your pussy on me – fuck – just like that, that’s a good fucking girl f’me.”
He praises you as you sink onto his length. What a pretty girl you are, biting your lip like that for him. Because of him. His thumbs rub soft circles into your thighs. They’re shaking. You’re tired, still, so very very tired. Is it because of him? Has he put you through too much in such a short space of time? Or is it all of the dancing you did last night? Maybe the alcohol didn’t help either. Honestly, it’s all three. He considers it all, and he considers you. Should he stop this? You initiated it, he rationalises, so why would he put a stop to this? You must want him real bad. Just like he wants you.
You start off slow, rising and falling as best you can in your weary state. He appreciates it, but he wants better. He expects better. But not today. He’ll do the work for now, just for you. To remember him by. He gets comfortable, angling his body beneath you so he can fuck up into you properly. He pistons his hips, reaching depths within you that you never knew existed. Your eyes are practically white from the angle he has. And are you really drooling for him? How cute, you are! Even your tongue lolls out as he carries on battering your insides.
“P-Please, fuck, fuck! I’m, ‘m gonna, ‘m so close! Gonna—!”
“Cum, fucking cum on my cock. Gonna stuff your cunt full again, squeeze me baby. Fucking cum.”
He keeps slamming up into you and your heart is beating so heavily you worry it’s going to thud right out of your chest. Your lover is almost hypnotised by the way your breasts bounce while he drills himself into you repeatedly, every inch of you is sheer perfection to him. The telling way you grit your teeth tells him you’re almost there. A couple more thrusts and he’s sure you’ll be crying out for him to fill you to the brim. And he will. He fucking will. He’s gonna… he’s gonna… he’s gonna.
“Are you awake yet, bitch?” Nobara speaks, knocking on the door that connects your rooms together. Your building pleasure has been broken – for both of you. You try to climb off the man beneath you and hide yourself under the covers; but he doesn’t let you. His fingers grip firmly into your hips and you’re sure there will be bruises signing his name on your body once he lets go. He raises a finger to his lips, telling you to shush as he carries on fucking you.
“Y-Yes.” you stutter, doing your best to remain composed. He smirks devilishly beneath you, the excitement you had previously felt begins to rise back up through your body. His tongue sticks out evilly before bringing it back as he hisses through his pleasure.
“Get in here, now. I want to talk to you about last night.”
“Give me a-a minute, I’ll be right—”
He objects, not wanting to let you go. Don’t fucking tease him, he’ll lose his mind if you don’t let him cum right now. But you can’t keep her waiting. You can already hear how furious she sounds. Clambering off of him seems a gargantuan task when his grip can’t seem to bear to let you go.
“Hurry up or I’m coming in.” Nobara threatens.
“Seen it all before, get in here now.”
What more can you do?
You wriggle free from him, much to his dismay, and walk towards Nobara's room. He sighs and it almost scares you to hear the level of fury rising in his purposeful grunts.
The man you left high and dry hid against the wall as you prepared to open the door, as per your instruction. He grabbed your wrist before you could go and see your friend. A hand laced through your hair, bringing your face to his so your lips could settle against each other’s comfortably. He pulled away, a skinny spit string connecting you to him momentarily.
“What’s your name?” he wonders.
“What’s yours?” you flip back to him.
“Toji, tell me yours.” he demands. You’re both distracted by the sound of Nobara getting increasingly more annoyed in the room next door. You take the opportunity to land your lips against his once more and grab the door handle.
“I have to go, enjoy your cigarette.” you tell him. And with that, you leave him only to be greeted by less than impressed company.
He huffs, utterly defeated and irritated that he missed out on one final orgasm with you. Toji contemplates beating himself off to get rid of his erection, but decides against it. It’s just a little sad, isn’t it? And weird, too. Jacking off in your room while you aren’t here. Although pretending to be French to get you into bed wasn’t any less weird than masturbating in your personal space. It’s clear he has an unusual moral compass.
He decides on a quick shower, washing the whole experience off his body before leaving. Once dressed, he pulls his carton of cigarettes from his pocket. He realises what you were doing over here for so long when he asked about it earlier. Once he opened the top of his cigarettes, he sees girly handwriting on the inside.
It’s your name. And more importantly – your phone number.
“I’m actually being pretty calm right now.” Nobara tells you. Your eyes bulge at that considering she almost tore your head off with her teeth.
“Coulda fooled me.”
“Don’t be a fucking bitch because I’m seriously pissed. You fucked me over so bad last night.” she bites back at your murmured comment.
You listen to her intently as she rakes through her luggage for a dressing gown for you to wear as she tears into you. About how stupid she felt and how uncomfortable you made her feel. How embarrassing it was for her to wait by herself in the club while you got dry fucked on the dance floor. How violating it was to have you both burst into her room while you had your tongues down each other’s throats. And how inconsiderate you were to not only her, but the entire floor of the hotel as you wailed whilst you got fucked stupid by Toji.
You broke down. You didn’t want her sympathy but you made sure to tell her you couldn’t be more apologetic if you tried. You were sorry, and you were just as embarrassed. You’ve made such a stupid fool of yourself and you’re so ashamed. Your life, your mind, it’s all in tatters. Thoughts and feelings are not things you can bring yourself to understand at the moment. And you debate whether you should tell Nobara about last night, about Toji. About what he did. She brought a roll of toilet paper from her bathroom to act as tissue paper and invited you to sit with her under the pearlescent morning sky on the balcony.
“He was lying,” you began whilst wiping your tears with the toilet paper. She raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue. “He was lying about being French. He started speaking English after we had sex.” you admitted. She audibly gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. She got up, preparing to go and give him a piece of her mind. But you informed her that he’s already gone.
“Bastard. I’ll kill him if I see him again. How fucked up can you be?”
“It was the best sex of my life, Nobara.” you confess.
“I… Yeah. It was the best I’ve ever had, and he explained it to me… It was the rush of not understanding each other. It made it exciting.” you reiterated the points that Toji had made to you hours earlier in an attempt to explain your embarrassment away. But she wasn’t buying it, her mouth hung open in disapproval, awaiting her turn to speak.
“Do you hear yourself?”
“No I know, but it was really good sex.”
“There’s more to life than sex.”
“No, I don’t think there is for me,” you breathe. It’s like you’re finally accepting you are destined for nothing. You’re just floating. Coasting, even. And maybe now, that’s okay. “I think I… I like him.”
“I’m not doing this,” she tells you as she rises from her seat again. She heads back inside, unable to tolerate this conversation for a second longer. “Just so we’re clear, you understand that he’s manipulated the fuck out of you. Yeah? D’ya get that?”
“You’re making it sound worse than it is—”
“No, I’m not. It’s just that bad.” she carries on. “And if you like him so much. And you get married, and have some kids. Ignore the fact he’s twice your age, if your kids ask how you met you’re going to have to tell them that he gaslit you into bed. How fucking romantic.” she finishes, slamming the balcony door shut behind her and gathering her things. You see through the glass that she gets herself ready and leaves the hotel room.
Leaving you alone to dwell on her words.
You end up going back to your own room eventually, showering and cleansing yourself of your dalliance with Toji. It’s not like you don’t get where Nobara was coming from, you just wish that she gave you more of a chance to speak. What Toji did was fucked, you aren’t entirely stupid. You just can’t ignore that the way he fucked you was otherworldly. But if it comes to him or your best friend, you’re going to choose her every single time. So once you’re clean, you make a vow to yourself to get ready and find her so that you can apologise and hopefully make up. It would be a shame to spend the remainder of your vacation on bad terms with one another.
Just as you pressed the down arrow on the elevator, the doors opened and Nobara was alone inside. She tried to barge passed you, but you grabbed the flesh of her upper arm and begged her to listen to you. She yanked her arm away from you, and carried on walking to her room.
“I’m really not in the mood to talk to you right now.” she told you, and you could understand. But couldn’t she at least hear what you had to say?
“Okay, fine, Nobara. You think I’m an idiot, who doesn’t?” you tell her. She stops her movements from that. Are you really going to keep using your insecurities as an excuse for your shitty behaviour? “I know I’m wrong, and you’re more important to me than anything. So, how about we go for a meal later and try and forget the whole thing? I’d hate to lose you over this, you come first.” you grovel. She swivels to face you and sizes you up. She can see you’re being genuine, but she’s still unsure. She can’t resist, however, when you don your signature smile at her. She nods, accepting your invite.
Another hurdle down.
There’s no hand holding this time as you walk through the lobby together. It’s awkward, actually, being with her after your argument. You’ve told her about a restaurant that you and your father always go to while you’re here. It’s the best food you’ve ever had, you assure her.
She isn’t disappointed, and you suspect it’s the reason for her sudden change in mood. It’s like nothing ever happened. You’re back to laughing and joking. Calling each other names, endearingly, not as actual insults. She does apologise to you too, telling you that maybe she was a little harsh. She just wants what is best for you, that’s all. You feel the same about her, and you promise you understand. If it’ll save your friendship, you have no use for Toji.
But if that’s true… why are you swiping your phone off the dinner table so quickly when a text comes through?
Why are your cheeks filling with blood as you read what the message says?
You don’t care about your friendship, clearly.
Otherwise you wouldn’t have invited Toji to come to your hotel room again later tonight.
You kiss Nobara goodnight when you return to your hotel. She enters her room, full bellied and ready for a good nights rest. You’d feel the same if you hadn’t skimped on eating. You’re deplorable, really, because the minute he texted you there was no doubt in your mind that you were going to invite him over to see you again. You didn’t want to be bloated while he finished what he started with you earlier.
He heeds your warning, making sure to be quiet when he knocks on your door. You let him in, eagerly, not giving him the chance to say hello before you jump him. He slams the door behind himself; you chastise him for immediately forgetting that you told him to be quiet. He grins, biting your lower lip between his teeth and kissing you to shut that pretty little mouth of yours up.
You assume she didn’t hear, maybe she has those ridiculous headphones of hers on.
Toji settles you down onto the bed below, slowly undressing you as he kisses whatever skin on your body becomes exposed as he pulls your clothing off. You can’t help but mewl, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed those pretty, scarred lips that send your mind spiralling.
He gets on his knees, pulling your body to the edge of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders. He looks up at you with a dangerous glimmer in his jade green eyes, licking a stripe over your panty clad mound.
“Couldn’t keep me away, could ya?”
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© 2022 fuwushiguro
The Fate You Fight - Pt. 3
Wanda Maximoff x F!Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Tags: soulmate AU, telephatic link soulmate, architect!reader, jewish!Wanda, post-MoM, hurt/comfort, no proofreading
Warnings: mention of abuse, description of violence, language, mention of attempted suicide
Summary: You never wanted anything to do with your soulmate, but when you find her in an advanced state of distress you had to help. After that, it becomes hard to let her go.
A/n: okay, now we've caught up with what ive written so far, and im replenished in serotonine (your comments give me so much of it you have no idea), so it should make it easier for me to finish writing this piece. Although stressing out because im getting my wisdom teeth removed soon so rip me. Anyway, love you guys, i hope you like this chapter! <3
Taglist: @red1culous @yenmaximoff (since you said you wanted more)
A few more days went by, and Wanda assured you she was fine with you going back to the office most of the day. She seemed to really be doing better now that she had people who supported her, but she seemed bored. You quickly discovered that her life before all this rarely gave her time to find a hobby outside of watching old tv shows. When with the Avengers she spent most of her time training, and before that she was a lab rat, so that wasn't fertile soil to develop interests.
Still, she made an effort to find an occupation, she started reading, tried Anath's video games, even played around with some old art supplies you bought once upon a time and never truly picked up later on. But nothing seemed to really scratch the itch.
Then one day, as Anath was home - she had inherited a week of night shift - and watching the news, a report came about an ongoing battle in the center of Manhattan where the newest members of the Avengers were fighting some terrible danger and were in a really precarious position. Wanda looked at the report in horror, then outside the window from where she could see a column of smoke rising. Before she had even time to think about it, she went to the balcony and jumped into action.
Immediately your best friend called you to inform you of what just happened, and you had to excuse yourself as you went to the closest computer near you, pushing the hands of its user to take control.
"Hey! What's wrong with you Y/ln?"
"Shut up, Dave."
You pulled up a live news feed and looked as your soulmate just arrived on the fight scene just in time to save the new Black Widow and Hawkeye from being crushed by debris. She then flew to the danger and what looked like a very violent battle started while the news anchor commented on the witch's return.
You had a bad feeling about this.
At least the fight didn't last since Wanda took care of the threat in a few minutes, top, before taking off into the unknown. You bolted from the office, trying to get a hold of Wanda's phone, unsuccessfully.
Was she going to be okay? She hadn't used her powers in a while, and after the Sokovia Accords she kept a low profile since she was a fugitive. Her appearing out of nowhere like that was bound to bring some unwanted attention.
That was bad.
Finally, she answered her phone.
"Wanda, where are you?"
"The outskirt of the city. I didn't want to go back to your place and risk bringing attention there." That was actually smart.
"Okay, ping me your location, I'm picking you up. In the meantime, stay hidden."
She did what you asked for, and after a while she was climbing in your car. Immediately she noticed how white your knuckles were on the wheel.
"Not now." Your voice was strained and dry, trying to hide any form of emotions.
Wanda recoiled in her seat while your eyes stayed glued on the road. The way home was quick but heavy with what you left unsaid, but what worried her even more was the lack of your voice in her head. Were you truly not thinking anything, or did you cut her off? She had no way to tell, so when you closed the door behind you she turned to face you, eyes already filling with tears. But before she could say anything, you crashed into her in a crushing hug.
"I was so scared, Wanda, so scared." You plunged your face in the crook of her neck, taking deep breaths. She smelled like sweat and smoke after her fight.
"I'm okay Y/n, I'm good," she reassured you as she finally laced her arms around you, rubbing your back in slow circles. "I don't even have a scratch, I swear."
You actually took the time to examine her, backing away, your eyes roaming her in search of any visible wound. You nodded. Good. That was good. Still, you brought her in your arms again. You wanted to feel her against you, solid, there. When you finally let your arms slide off of her she took your hands in hers, her fingers still black at the tip but slowly going back to normal with time, and squeezed them gently.
"You feeling better?" She asked and you nodded.
Everything was good. There was just a question burning on your tongue but you had no idea if you should ask it. It was none of your business, you thought. On the other hand…
"Are you going to get back into superheroing?" You asked in a worried whisper.
Her eyebrows furrowed at the question as if she didn't think about it. And she didn't. "I don't know," she answered in a confused tone, because she truly had no idea. "I… I acted on instinct. They were kids. I had to do something."
You thought about it, pinching your lips before you nodded. "Okay."
"You're not mad?" She tilted her head at that, some more confusion etched on her face.
"No, no, I'm not mad. I–" you stammered and looked up at the ceiling as you looked for your words. "I was worried, but also… you're a kickass hero, and I kind of told you to do good. And if for you it means going out there and fighting, so be it."
"O-okay, that's… I'm… I don't know yet if–" she breathed out shakily. "I don't know if I will do that too often."
"That's good, I mean, fine, you know. Do that as often as you want," you rambled a bit and she laughed, and you did too. "God, you were so cool out there!"
You laced your fingers with hers and leaned forward so your foreheads touched.
"It felt good to help again."
"Okay, how about celebratory take out? Chinese?"
She rolled her eyes and shook her head when another voice sounded from the living room.
"I'm open to chinese."
Anath smirked at you and you blushed. You had completely forgotten she was here, and apparently Wanda had too since she was getting almost as red as her hair.
Your best friend laughed, and you took your phone out to get the food.
"Sooo, Y/n," Anath started and you could see she wanted something.
You raised your eyebrows. "Yes, Anath?"
"Wanda hasn't been using the guest room for a while." Where the hell was she going with this? "And my dad is coming to town for a conference soon."
Ah, that's where she was going. "And you want him to stay here."
She nodded sheepishly.
"I'll talk to her about it." You didn't even know what you were supposed to talk about exactly. You narrowed your eyes at Anath. "When is he coming?"
"In two days."
You drank your coffee. You were not looking forward to having that conversation.
"Sooo, Wanda," you started in a very similar way as Anath did earlier. Wanda frowned and let you continue while she steered the food in the pot.
"Anath's dad will be in town, and she'd like him to stay here. And you know. You've been sleeping with me. I mean, in my room, I mean, you know." You were feeling so flustered, it was getting ridiculous. Lately you had found yourself more nervous than usual around Wanda, your heart beating in your chest stronger than ever.
"Are you asking me to move in your room?" She was now arching an eyebrow and you felt dumb with your sweaty palms.
"It's just temporary, then–"
"Okay." Your eyes widened. "I'll move to your room."
"Oh, good. Huh. Temporarily?"
"If you want it to be."
You looked to the side, a hand on the back of your neck. "Let's try it out before we make any big decision."
It doesn't have to mean anything, after all. You would be fine, right? You were not at all developing a giant crush on Wanda after all, mhm, nope, never.
Two days later, you had emptied a few of your drawers for Wanda to fully move in your room for the week to come. It felt oddly natural to have her take up more of your personal space, but it also left you feeling uneasy, trapped by an all knowing universe, and it bothered you deeply. But as usual, you repressed your emotions as deeply as possible so you wouldn't have to think about it. So when Anath's dad, Ephraim, finally arrived, everything was ready.
As usual you spent a good five minutes listening to them exchange in Hebrew from the kitchen, not understanding anything until a translation seemed to pop in your head in Wanda's voice. That made you frown pretty deeply and you glanced at her as she seemed to follow the conversation along as she snacked on cashews - yours, by the way, apparently now she was okay with just stealing your food. Finally the man came to say hello to the both of you and was pleasantly surprised to hear Wanda speak Hebrew to him.
Anath threw a questioning look your way and you just shrugged. You had no idea she spoke the language or if she had any religious affiliation to begin with.
The rest of the day flew by, and you actually learned that Wanda was jewish, which, good for her. You already knew a bit from Anath but never truly took the time to study the matter that much. She admitted she didn't practice anymore, but she still received an invitation to join Anath's family during important holidays - along with the one you received every time one of them came around. You had a feeling this time you might actually take it if Wanda's thoughts were anything to go by.
The next morning as you were taking breakfast with everyone, a golden magic portal opened in your living room and Wanda immediately jumped on her feet when Dr. Strange and Wong came through. This was bad, you could tell, so you stood up too.
"Do you often have wizards coming through portals here nowadays?" Ephraim asked in a whisper towards his daughter and child-in-law.
"It's honestly starting to feel like a Tuesday," Jamie answered, Anath simply tilting her head, unable to deny it.
"Strange, what are you doing here?" A very nervous Wanda challenged, hands at the ready to use her magic.
"I could ask you the same question, Wanda. More so I should ask you the same question. I thought you died at the top of Wundagore," Strange answered, while Wong behind him was also assuming a fighting stance, just in case.
"I think I want that weird man to answer first," Anath piped up, drawing attention to her.
"I'm sorry, who, who are you?" He asked, looking at her.
"Dr. Anath Weiss. This is my apartment."
"Mine too," you added, while Jamie mumbled it and raised their hand to say they were an inhabitant too. Strange looked at the older man in the room.
"I'm just visiting, don't mind me."
He actually had a better look at him. "Are you Dr. Ephraim Weiss? You're the current director at UC San Diego Health, aren't you?"
"Oh, Dr. Stephen Strange! You used to be a prick."
This made Jamie spit out food everywhere on the table. Wong behind him seemed conflicted. He wanted to say something, but seemed to agree to a certain degree.
"Well, I'm not here to be disrespected, so, Wanda. Come with me."
You could hear a lithanie of 'no's coming from her mind and her eyes started to turn red. That was your cue to step in, so you did, taking a step to move in front of Wanda, between her and Strange.
"I'm sorry buddy, but she's not going anywhere."
He rolled his eyes, this was getting old. "And who are you?"
"Y/n Y/ln. I'm her soulmate."
He blinked at that, looking between the both of you. "But I thought–" he started, confusion all over his features, but it was quite clear what he thought for Wanda.
"You thought it was Vision."
Wait, what? Vision as in… The Vision? Hiding what you felt right now was hard, but you managed well enough since the wizards didn't seem to notice. Wanda shook her head.
"It was complicated," she said, and boy, it sounded like that. Maybe it was time to ask her some questions.
"Alright, so I take it you won't…" Strange had a look towards you, then your friends. "How about we talk about all this at Kamar-Taj?" He opened a new portal to the temple.
Wanda came closer to you and you extended your hand behind you to grab hers.
"I just want to talk," Strange assured her, "and why don't you bring Y/n with you? As a sign of good faith."
You gave Wanda an interrogating look, and after a few seconds of impossible to grab thoughts, she finally nodded. "We'll come."
He stepped aside to allow you passage and you walked in the portal with Wanda. Wong came next, and then Strange. The three left in the kitchen looked at the golden ring which disappeared.
"Your place is very lively," Ephraim commented.
Anath drank her coffee, not answering to that. She liked it like that.
As you entered Kamar-Taj, you looked around at everything. There must have been a tornado going through recently with all the damages you could see around here.
"Where are we?" You reached to Wanda in your thoughts - it was the first time you were trying something like that - and she quickly answered, giving you the rundown on Kamar-Taj. Then she added the smallest details at the end.
"All the destruction is my fault."
That was a frown worthy moment, and you felt like you really needed a catch up. When you glanced at Wanda, she was looking down in shame, a slight tremble on her lips. You squeezed her hand reasuringly while you were led to a room. There you side down across Strange and Wong.
"So, let's start with the beginning. What happened after Wundagore."
No playing around with Strange. Wanda decided to simply comply and answer so it would be over faster.
"I survived, I wandered around and arrived in New York. I don't really remember how."
"Alright, then what?"
"I just…" she looked away. "I stayed around. I didn't know what to do. I really thought Wundagore would kill me."
"We thought so too."
Listening to that was painful, but that last part made you tic. "Wait a second," you intervened. "What's Wundagore?"
"It's the place of origin of an ancient powerful book of magic, one that corrupt people and that Wanda had in her possession until recently," Wong answered before Strange would keep him from doing so.
"Is that why…" you wiggled your fingers under the very annoyed look of Strange that you interrupted his interrogation.
"Can we keep going?"
"No, we can't." You snapped at him, your voice starting to fill with anger.
You leaned forward and even if you had no power, no magic, no training to look even remotely menacing, the man still felt threatened somehow.
"You knew what she was attempting to do, destroy an ancient site of corrupting magic," a look at Wong and he nodded to confirm it, "and that she would supposedly die from it, which was clearly her goal from what I'm hearing, and you let her do it? Suicide by heroism? What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Your voice went up and up with anger as you talked and everyone in the room looked at you like two new heads grew on you.
"Well, there was the whole Westview incident, and she just had killed a few people. And then tried to kill a kid," Strange explained, not liking the tone you were employing with him. "And the Darkhold is not really something you come back from."
"You kind of did," Wong pointed out.
"Yes, because it got destroyed."
You looked at the two men in front of you. "Weren't you supposed to be friend at some point? Or at least on the same team with the whole Avengers thing?"
"We weren't exactly– Yes, we collaborated."
"And you didn't stop five seconds to– to just–"
"We tried to give her an out. She was never coerced into attacking that kid, or into attacking here."
"You just fucking said that the magic book corrupted her! That the only reason you're okay is because she destroyed it! You got fucking lucky, because she managed to break the hold! AFTER IT CORRUPTED HER!" You stood up at that, already halfway there since you kept straightening from anger at each of your words. You couldn't take anymore. Wanda looked at your extended hand. "We're leaving. Do your magic thing so we can go home."
The blackened fingers found yours and pulled the witch up. Strange tried to keep you from going by standing in your face. At this point all you could hear was your blood pumping in your temples and before you knew it you punched him.
"Fuck!" That hurted more than you thought it would. Wong decided it was time to take the wheel and opened a portal for you.
"We will visit you again once you've calmed down," he still let you know and you sent him a deatly glare. "Not as enemies."
Once you went through the portal it closed behind you and the others - who were finishing breakfast - looked at you. Wanda bolted for the freezer and took out a pack of peas.
"Shit, what happened," Anath asked looking at you. It was the first time she saw you so mad.
"She punched Strange," Wanda answered and came back to you - you had collapsed on the couch - to press the peas to your hand through a hand towel.
"Good," Ephraim said under the disapproving glance of his daughter who was getting up and approaching you to examine your hand. "What? It's true."
"What did he do?" Your best friend asked, and you glanced at Wanda. She looked scared that you were going to say anything.
"He was just being a dick," you dismissed and as usual, Anath respected your boundaries, Wanda able to breath again.
She looked at your hand that was already bruising. "The last time you picked a fight was warranted, so I won't say anything. Plus your hand is fine, so, no worries. Just keep icing it for now."
You nodded and your friend assembled her side of the family to go out while Wanda stayed next to you, worry in her eyes. Gears seemed to turn in her mind about what just happened, so you were hardly surprised when she finally talked about the whole ordeal that happened.
"You know, they're right. I was beyond redemption at the time…" she looked at her own hands.
"Come on Wands, that's ridiculous. Look how far you've come."
"I tried to kill a teenager, Y/n." Her eyes full of tears found yours. "I wanted to steal her powers for selfish reasons, and for that I killed countless people. And the worse is that I didn't care."
"That wasn't you, that was the– the Darkhold." That was the name of the thing, you thought.
"No. It's not just that… I–" she blinked a few tears away, looking up at the other end of the room. It was time for you to know everything.
It took so long for her to tell you everything, from Vision's death to Westview and finally to the dreamwalking and Wundagore. You listened, never saying anything. There was nothing for you to tell anyway, it wasn't your story. From time to time you would give her a squeeze of the hand to help her continue, until finally she reached the final chord. It was all a lot to digest. By the end of it your legs were crossed on the couch and the peas were on the coffee table.
You needed some time to think but you could feel Wanda's expectant gaze shifting continuously between you and her hands, so you still wanted to say something.
"I can't find it in me to blame you, Wanda," you finally said. You refused to absolve her, but you couldn't condemn her either.
"You should. I told you I was a monster."
"You're not. You're only human." That seemed to get her attention for good, her eyes hungry for more explanations. "If I, if anyone, really, had your powers? And if I were in your situation? I'm not sure I would… I'm certain I wouldn't have done better. From Westview to Wundagore."
The red rim of her eyes shined with tears that should have already dried after she told you her story. "I'm destined to destroy the world, Y/n."
Your sudden fire made her jump. In all this story she gave you, you finally realized how much destiny, fate, whatever you wanted to call it, counted on you never being there for Wanda. Because of course someone who was left alone would want to destroy the world, would want for all of it to end even if it meant taking everyone else with them. And that gave you a real choice, and her too. You would fight so she could have it.
"I mean, fuck, you can't condemn someone because you think that one day they might do a bad thing. No, you help them, until they get better, and until you know they're not a risk anymore. You don't let them try and commit suicide." Your voice became weak under the heavy weight of your words. "People should have helped you."
"I didn't want their help."
"They should have still tried." I should have tried, you thought bitterly. But it was too late to change that now. "I want to try." That was the best you could offer, because you truly believed Wanda was good, that what happened was a fluke. And you also believed she had to make amends, do better.
"I'm not worth it."
Gently, you took both of her hands between yours. "I choose to believe you are."
She looked at your linked hands, and at the way your eyes were burning with so much hope and trust. Trust in her despite everything she did and everything she could still do. It was something she missed, that feeling that someone had her back no matter what. It was something you chose for yourself too. You chose to be there for her, and that alone made it all so much easier.
"How will I ever be able to thank you for everything?"
A warm smile spreaded on your face, a love - not romantic, not yet - evident in your eyes.
And she did. A few weeks went by, during which she came into contact with various people - the most notable being Clint Barton since he knew better than anyone else in the old team how she felt after everything she did, and she started seeing a therapist - one from Kamar-Taj who renounced her old life but agreed to use her knowledge for this very specific case. It helped ease Strange and Wong too, and even if they kept checking on Wanda, it was more in the spirit of making sure she was okay than real surveillance.
Jamie made good on his idea and every week they would select a special dish to cook for Wanda - sometimes with her too. She went ahead and helped the new Avengers from time to time when Clint was busy with his family, and you had the occasion to meet a few of them when they needed patching up and Anath was home. Your place was quickly becoming a secondary med bay for them, and you had to remind them that it was still your place of living, so from time to time they would bring food and drinks and impose a game night.
The friendship between you and Wanda grew, and so did your crush, but you were still hesitant to act on it despite your best friend's sporadic remarks that she clearly liked you too.
"It's not the problem, An'," you told her one day. "It's that I'm not sure if she's ready for a relationship. Hell! I'm not sure if I'm ready."
"Sounds to me like you're just avoiding your feelings."
"Which kind of proves my point, doesn't it? If I were ready for a relationship, I wouldn't feel the need to avoid my feelings." Anath sent you a weary look.
"Why are you like this?"
"Years of unresolved trauma," you answered as you picked up a bag of potatoes to throw in your shopping cart. "And I just… I don't want to rush. Plus it's not because we're soulmates that we have to be together that way."
"But you want to."
You did. Sometimes it would keep you up at night, and you'd have to stay in the living room until she fell asleep so that you wouldn't keep her awake by admiring her - yes, it happened often enough that it became a problem.
"That's irrelevant. She had a husband and kids that she lost inside a month of time. I can't just spring my feelings on her like that."
Anath sighed and gave up. She knew that even if you were now more open to the soulmate subject, your situation was still hard to deal with. If anything were to ever happen, it probably would come in time. You were certainly in no hurry.
"So, anything new with Y/n? Maybe a date or two?" Clint asked while he was checking the breakfast aisle with Wanda. She acted like she didn't hear the question, but the blush on her face showed otherwise. Sometimes even just thinking about you would elicit very strong reactions from - and within - her. "Come on kid, it's obvious."
"Well. No, nothing happened. We're just friends." A very sad truth if there ever was one. You had a few 'moments' where there had been a spark, where eyes fleetingly found the other's lips, but neither of you ever acted on it. It was always a bit awkward after with the tension in the air, but it was all but forgotten the next morning when you would wake up in each other's arms. Which might also be something you needed to discuss, because for all accounts and purposes, you were a couple in a lot of aspects of your life. "I don't think she wants more."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because if she did, she had plenty of occasions to show me. Or tell me." She picked up a box of cereals - Kate's favourites - and put it in her cart.
"Have you thought that maybe she's trying to give you space and time?" Clint pointed out in all his wisdom.
"What if I don't want space and time?" She walked over to the next aisle. "What if I want more?"
"Well, then you'll have to tell her." He put some boxed mac&cheese in the cart for Yelena - Jamie hated it. "I know she can literally read your mind, but maybe she has a reason not to act on it."
"What would that be?"
So many answers came to Clint's mind, but he decided to keep most of them for himself and instead impart some wisdom. "What you want is not always what you need, and maybe she thinks that even if you both want each other, you both need to take some time before you rush into anything."
Wanda considered his words. He was probably right, you had always been very attuned to what she needed. She actually talked about it with Therese - her therapist - and pointed out pretty much the same thing as Clint did. You both had heavy trauma, and rushing might cause more damages than anything else. It could cause one of you to panic, or trigger unexpected trauma.
"I don't like it, but I see your point," she said in a careful tone. Clint smiled at her proudly - he could see how far she'd come, all her progress, even if she still had a long way to go.
"I'm glad you do." He looked over her shoulder at something on the other side of the store. "Now I suggest we go, I think Yelena just broke something."
Wanda turned around only to see the assassin and Kate trying to hide their latest catastrophe.
Days went by, then weeks and months, and the more time went by, the harder it was to resist your feelings and the way Wanda would look at you, full of hope. It was one you gave her, that now had grown to be her own. It wasn't just hope to be with you, to find a shoulder to cry on so she would feel better, it was all she aspired to do in the future, with or without you by her side. And it was beautiful, but you still wondered if you could do it.
"Wanda!" You heard someone call as you were walking with her towards the portal Wong made - you had taken a habit to take tea with him while Wanda had her therapy session after you helped with Kamar-Taj rebuilding. You turned around to see a young woman with a jean jacket. Wanda recoiled against you, a panic you hadn't seen in her eyes in a while taking over her.
She's right here, everyone trusts you, Wanda, it would be so easy to just take it. Take it. Take it.
The life she dreamed of with her boys had lost some of its appeal to her - maybe because of how heavily she associated it with Vision -, but from time to time, she still heard that voice inside of her, still saw their faces, and heard their voices calling for her. But she kept fighting it, saw it for what it was now, grief appropriated by an evil she was still fighting. Nowadays, her fingers barely showed any signs of the corruption she went through, but she still felt its effects in those moments.
The young woman - America, you guessed - stopped in front of you both, so you took Wanda's hand in order to reassure her.
"I'm joining the Avengers!" She exclaimed excitedly.
"Are they running out of recruits? Between you and Kamala, you're gonna bring the age demographic through the ground," you commented. You loved Kamala, but she was way too young to fight crime. And from what you saw, America was too.
"Well, I'm not joining-joining, but I'll be helping during minor crisis! And if I'm supervised by a senior Avenger, sooooo…" her eyes fell on Wanda once again. "What do you say? Want to team up?"
"I– I'll have to think about it," she answered, her voice wavering.
"Sure! Oh and don't worry about the whole trying to kill me for my powers thing. I talked with Strange and Wong, and they say you're cool now! And I trust them, so, I trust you too!"
That made you wince, and a quick look at Wanda told you all you needed to know without even hearing her thoughts.
"Anyway, gotta bolt, see you soon!"
And with that she left as fast as she came. Wanda and you finally went through the portal and soon enough you were home alone. You turned to look at her, make sure she was okay, but as you did, you could see that she was anything but. Slowly you guided her to the couch and sat her down, doing the same with one leg under you so you could face her.
"I– I can't, Y/n," she murmured when she finally dared to glance at you.
"That's okay, you don't have to accept."
"I don't even understand– why would she ask me? I tried to kill her."
You thought about it. "Maybe she feels like your set of powers make you the best candidate," you shrugged. That was the only explanation you could conjure up. If Strange were here, maybe he would suggest that it had to do with the both of you reminding her of her mothers. "I don't think it really matters why, just that she asked and whether or not you feel up to it."
"Do you think I should do it?" She asked you. She would do it on occasion, ask your opinion on matters she had a hard time resolving. She liked that your perspective was usually more global than her, as you would look at the problem from a more distant eye.
You blew up your cheek before you let out a deep sigh. "I mean… you're an exceptional witch, and maybe spending time with the girl might actually help you heal from what happened with her."
Wanda clearly still felt guilty about it, as she should, but if America was ready to forgive her and even work with her, then maybe it was a good occasion to show that she truly changed.
She followed your train of thoughts and nodded. "That's a good point…"
"But you still need time to think about it." That made sense, it's not like it was a small decision to take. She nodded in answer.
"When she approached us, I… there was this voice in me–" she started, and you knew what she was talking about. She had revealed to you at some point how sometimes she would feel tempted, how she wanted to use her powers to make the universe bend to her will, and how hard it was to do so. The first time she told you, she cried so much about it. To her it was proof she was a bad person, but to you it just showed how much of a fighter she was.
"That voice isn't you, you know it," you said as you wrapped yourself around her and she sank into you.
She never answered your statement, but she didn't need to. You could hear her loud and clear, fighting her doubts with your words.
"Why don't we watch something so you can clear your mind a bit, and we can talk about it again tomorrow morning?" You offered.
She nodded and you took a better position on the couch, allowing her to lean against your front, and you put on her favourite show.
PAIRING : Lewis Hamilton x Black reader
SUMMARY : Part 2 of Paddock Time. After Reader x Lewis made their public debuts, they will have to deal with some issues…
WARNINGS (+18) : SMUT - oral (female receiving, p in v, use of the word Sir, unprotected sex), mentions of infidelity, jealousy, a little bit of angst and fluff. (10k words)
For this one, I used many of your suggestions from last week. Thank you to all of you who took the time to send some ideas. I really appreciate.
(English is not my first language so feel free me to correct me so I can improve it next time).
I hope that you enjoy it and if you did let me know by commenting or giving a feedback. Writing takes a lot of time so it’s always pleasing to read a feedback.
It’s finally here, it’s pretty long but I hope it was worth the wait.
The sun embraced your melanated skin as you enjoyed the jacuzzi on the balcony, eating some fruits and drinking champagne. It's been two days, since Lewis won in Silverstone and both of you choose to stay in the penthouse to enjoy each other company in privacy.
Since the relationship went public, the sex got even better. The two of you couldn't stop going at it, everywhere in penthouse making Lewis worth his money.
Eyes closed you enjoyed the small breeze and sun, your boyfriend hazel eyes couldn’t stop staring at your figure.
"You look so hot in that bikini."
"Thank you Sir." You answered, your tongue emphasizing on Sir.
Lewis came right next to you and started to caress your thigh.
"Open your eyes."
"For what ? I feel relaxed now."
A sharp smack on the ass made you jump and open your eyes.
"Lew take it easy." Your legs wrapped around his waist as you bit your lips, feeling his bulge.
"Damn chile Sir, you fucked me all day long yesterday already."
"You never asked me to stop."
"Who said I'm complaining ?” You picked a strawberry and put it on your lips. Lewis quickly bit into the fruit before tongue kissing you. His hands gripping your ass in the process.
A moan let your mouth as he pinched your nipples. "Strawberries are good but this isn’t what I'm craving for now."
His hands griped your boobs, setting them free. His warm mouth enveloped your nipples.Head thrown back, you couldn't stop moaning at his actions. Suddenly, your bikini bottom became too tight, you wanted him down there.
"Sir fuck me please."
"Patience is key. Something you don't have especially in bed."
"You don't have it outside of the bedroom, you're not better than me."
He softly bit on one of your nipples as a response. "Shit Lew."
Without knowing how, he had seated you on the edge of the jacuzzi as he feasted on you. His tongue exploring every part of you from lips to clit.
"Sir please.. I need you inside of me."
He hummed into your wet lips before pulling back. "Not yet. I like to see you loose your mind babygirl."
"Cannot get enough of this pretty pussy."
You gripped on his braids as you covered his beard and mouth with your juice. "Come back in the water."
Biting on his shoulder to avoid screaming was the best option. Your nails plunged deeply on his back as his slow but deep strokes gave you all the pleasure you needed.
"Lew please. Sir right there."
"Shit you so tight. Gripping me crazy as if you never had me all day long yesterday."
"It feels so good." He then went faster while one of his hand toyed your bud.
"Yes yes yes please."
"All of those guys want you but I'm the only one who can make you feel that good."
"Don't - oh Sir."
"Can't even speak properly." The way he was fucking you turned you on because it contrasted with the usual gentleman, he was.
The various sensations in your body signaled that you're almost there, your walls getting tighter and tighter around him. He suddenly stop with no warnings, you almost cried at the loss of contact.
"Turn back." Hands on the edge of the jacuzzi, you enjoyed London view as he entered you from behind.
"The view is incredible." He stayed still but you couldn't help and threw it back at him, biting your lips. Yet he firmly grabbed your hips to stop you.
"You cannot wait, not even 5 fucking seconds."
He softly wrapped his hands around your throat while his thumb caressed your chin softly. The same thumb then teased your plump lips as your mouth opened to welcome him and hum on him.
"You look so desperate.. I love it." He slammed into you harder making his thumb slip from your mouth in the process.
"Lew please fuck me. I need you."
"You can do better."'
"Sir fuck me like the slut that I am."
"Way better." One hand around you throat, the other on your hips to refrain you from moving. You were forced to take every strokes and moves. Moans, groans mixed with water splashes and skin clapping turned you on even more. The heat of your body increased as your legs started to shake.
"Sir I'm coming."
"Yeah come all over me babygirl." Eyes closed, noises stuck in your throat, you came on him making him twitch and come deep inside of you.
"Shit it was amazing."
"Lew you better keep your hands to yourself because I'm going to be sore. I can feel that.
"I can use my tongue still."
"Lew you're addicted." You felt his dick soften into you before he pulled out.
"To you yes." A smirk on your face, you rolled your eyes. "Get it together."
After your dream small trip to London, you went back to NY. Having Lewis all for yourself for a few days was memorable and amazing. Your post day off pictures didn’t go unnoticed, the second you posted everybody noticed.
"The queen is glowing", "We all know why she's glowing 😏" , "She's so gorgeous, Lewis is so lucky."
Maleeka sent you a message."Someone got bomb dick these days huh ?"
"I'm fine thank you for asking."
"Bitch I know you're fine, you have that glow. Not too sad ? I mean you had to leave the penthouse."
"I didn't want to leave to be honest but I need coins so here I am."
Tomorrow you had a meeting with a wealthy Qatari woman. She contacted you through your personal shopper website. The stakes were huge because you knew that if she was happy with your services, she would hook you up with her relatives or friends.
Your free lance business took another turn when you started showing up at the paddock. People were obsessed with your looks but also Lewis new ones. However, the spotlight mainly shifted to focus on you. Every week people were waiting to be surprised by your paddock outfits. Each time you would go to the paddock, you tried to not let them down. After seeing plenty of amazing looks, the fans decided to call you paddock queen. A surname you’ve learnt about during a pre race interview, when one of the journalist boldly asked. ”Lewis, I know you don’t like to talk about your private life but I cannot help but ask is paddock queen coming this weekend ?”
Lewis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion while the other drivers smiled at the question knowing what it was about.
The journalist explained, ”Paddock queen is the name fans or even non F1 fans have given to your girlfriend because she impresses all of us when she shows up.”
A warms smile appeared on Lewis face as he answered in the softest voice, ”Paddock queen is very busy at the moment but she’ll be back soon. I hope so.”
Sebastian Vettel teased, ”We're forever grateful to her, you're very pleasing to watch these days.”
Lewis let out a laugh before answering, ”I’ll let her know that Sebastian thanks her for her services.”
Bottas added, ”Not only Sebastian.”
The crowd laughed at their comments before the journalist thanked Lewis.
Facetiming with Lewis quickly became a part of your couple routine, especially when distance came between you.
”The journalists asked about you today, your new name is paddock queen. You impressed them so hard, they couldn’t forget.”
”Really ? He asked that in conference just like that ?”
”Yes there's the video of it on Youtube.”
”Damn that’s a lot of pressure on me right now.”
”How went the shopping session with your new client ?”
”AMAZING ! She said that I’m going to be her stylist and personal shopper. She loved me. Her daughter should reach out soon for an appointment too.”
”So proud of you babe. You deserve it, you’re working so hard.”
”Thank you Lew.” You smiled as you lay on your queen size bed.
”I see that you’re wearing something cute, show me.”
”You’re so thirsty, it’s just a pajama.”
”You never wear shit like that when I’m around.”
”Boy don’t start, no matter what I wear, you take it off. Why should I bother ?”
”Naked is my favorite look.”
”Lewis behave, no sex phone. You’re racing tomorrow.”
”I won’t be able to see you next week I guess, so we can have phone sex tomorrow after the race.”
”Who told you won’t see me Lew ? You cannot get ride off me like that.”
A grin appeared on his face as he asked, ”So you’ll be there for the France grand prix ?”
”You’re racing in my second home, so yeah sign me in.”
”That’s such a great news, very motivating for tomorrow.”
As usual Angela had to remind Lewis to hang up so he could get some sleep. Being his girlfriend wasn’t easy, sometimes you wanted to spend more time with him. Have him for yourself or right next to you but his schedule mixed with yours made it complicated. You never thought you’d be in love with him, especially not when you started to talk to him.
Here, you were today craving for his touch, kisses and soft voice. A good night of sleep was needed since you had to wake up pretty early to see Lewis race then attend Moncler pop-up store opening.
Lewis and you were walking down the paddock to join the Mercedes garage. The second you got out of the car some fans cheered on you and some even asked for a picture. You weren’t used to it but they were adorable so you gladly accepted.
”La plus belle du paddock.” - The most beautiful of the paddock.
”Merci beaucoup.” - Thank you very much.
”Please keep our Lewis glowing and shining the way you do.”
”Don’t worry about that, see you later guys.”
Toto smiled widely when he saw you. ”Oh Y/N enfin tu es revenue, ça commençait à faire long.” - Oh Y/N, you’re finally back, it’s been a little while.
Suddenly you heard a woman voice interrupt Toto, ”She's a busy woman, leave her alone. Nice to meet you I’m Susie Wolff.”
”Bonjour Susie, it’s an honor to meet a woman like you.”
”Same for me, Toto told me about you. You impressed him apparently so tell me about you.”
Soon you couldn’t stop talking to Susie, she was a boss lady that you admired. You understood why Toto choose her to be his wife. Conservations flowed naturally as if you already knew each other.
”It was such a pleasure to meet you. You're very intelligent, ambitious, empathetic and a great listener I can feel that, talking with you is so easy. I understand Toto position better now. I love the fact that you have opinions and you’re not afraid to defend them and stick to it.”
Susie turned to Lewis and said, ”She is amazing, don’t mess it up.”
”I know Susie, I won’t.”
Your flowery dress, bag, sunglasses and platform shoes caught some familiar eyes as your Parisian bestie Priscila took pictures of you away from Mercedes garage. You couldn’t not invite her, a friendship which started in early teenage years is unforgettable. Even the distance couldn’t tear you apart from her. Sometimes, you believed that she was one of your soulmate. Priscila was the owner of a natural hair cosmetic company in Ivory Coast ”La Belle Abidjanaise” ,seeing her was rare but always worth it. You could spend 4 to 5 hours on the phone with her, talking non stop. She was like your twin sister : bad bitch with an attitude but the difference between you and her is that she enjoyed the boogie life more than you did. Thankfully, her company was doing well enough to allow her to live her best life.
”It’s giving girl omg ! Tu es trop fraîche.” - You look amazing.
”Tu es la meilleure photographe, merci à toi.” - You’re the best photographer so thank you.
As you were focused on your phone to choose which photos you would post. Horner came right next to you.
”Blue is really your color, my lady. Too bad it isn’t Mercedes color.”
Your bestie gave him a death glare before you answered, ”Good afternoon Mr. Horner, I like blue for sure just not yours.”
”If you want I can take a picture of the both of you.”
Your bestie jumped in with an aggressive tone, ”No thanks, it’s already done.” Cough is the only thing you could do to repress the laugh that wanted to erupt. No one hated this man more than her.
If Lewis and you are here today it’s also because of her. After the first date, you had no intention to see him again. You enjoyed talking to him and spend time with him but you were afraid. After all, he was still a famous and successful athlete. Back in those days, you were a random girl working a 9 to 5 job to pay bills and extras. A job you wanted to quit, the second your fashion blog would allow you to. The manager position was enough to live a comfortable life and take care of your mother but you wanted more. In your head success, checks, family and friendships were the only thing that truly mattered.
Still you allowed yourself to go on a few dates to see if you could be surprised but no. Often, those men were intimidated by your self confidence, your intelligence or the boldness you had to ask many questions about their lives. After you curved Lewis at least 5 times for a date, you finally decided to give him a chance.
In honesty you weren’t expecting a damn thing from it expect eating a fancy dinner. Lewis pulled out his best game on the first date, gastronomic dinner in a 5 star hotel, a roses bouquet and a net-a-porter shopping card. However, after dating a few wealthy men, you knew better than being impressed by material.
As the date went by, you realized that your mind and body were clearly attracted to him. His emotional maturity, the passion he had while speaking about specifics topics, his engagements, his confidence and sense of humor seduced you. To avoid being in awe too fast, you started to act like a FBI agent by questioning him. ”If you could be an animal, which one would you be ?”, ”What’s the biggest lie you pulled out to get laid ?”, ”What’s the craziest thing you have done, non F1 related.”
Lewis looked destabilized because he wasn’t used to talk the most nor being ask such invasive questions in the private sphere. By the end of the date, he realized that he hasn’t learnt that much about you which frustrated him but also turned him on. This mysterious and inaccessible side of you left him wanting more. The date went well but to avoid being waisting time, you refused to pursue.
Later on, you told your best friend everything. She gave you a wise advice. ”You should give him a second shot, if you truly enjoyed the date.”
”He just wants to get lay that’s it. I don’t want to waist my time.”
”Then don’t let him think that he will lay you. Babe, you’re running because you’re afraid of being vulnerable, I know you. If you enjoyed the date, damn he has something going on for him. It’s hard embracing life when you’re afraid of vulnerability.”
”Please I don’t need a therapy session right now. You were supposed to support me.”
”I do by telling you the truth. What you have to loose ? From what you told me, he doesn’t know shit about you. Watch how he's going to behave these days and act in consequence.”
The same night Lewis texted you, ”Hey pretty, did you make it home ?”
”I really enjoyed our date. The conservations were so intense, I've never been that captivated, I need more. Tell me when you’re free so we can plan something.”
After a two days reflexion, you decided that you would answer tomorrow. Your long day of work drained way too much for you to have social interactions with anyone.
As you opened your door, you noticed a small package. When you opened it, a smile appeared on your face as you touched the precious book in your hand. A book you had mentioned during the date as your dream book but one you couldn’t afford. It included the most iconic dress of the 20th century. That night you texted him, ”Hello Sir, I’m free from next week. Thank you for the gift, I appreciate.”
Christian interrupted your thoughts with his annoying voice. ”Last time invitation still on and of course if we win the race. You're more than welcomed to our party. Being around Rebull would be a fantastic marketing move.“
”Since when being around racists is great PR ?” Priscila asked in a sarcastic tone.
You wanted to scream so bad but your desire of intimidation was even stronger.
”Mr. Horner aren’t you married ? I don’t think your wife or your driver would appreciate seeing Lewis girlfriend there. Talking about marketing I’m pretty familiar with it. Thus I can ensure you that being seen with Lewis Hamilton is the best move. A man who’s fighting to make the world a better place. While some are creating false rumors to destabilize him.”
”I’m impressed. I kinda like you, you’re a good fighter.”
Priscila let out a heavy sigh before she snapped, ”Cannot wait to see Redbull out of the podium this week end. So I know we won’t see you around after the race.”
”Honestly I think Mercedes downfall is coming sooner, since Lewis got himself a beautiful lady. I’m afraid his mind will have a hard time focusing on racing especially when the said lady is captivating. He'll need a lot of energy to keep his lady around.”
”What do you mean by a lot of energy ?”
”He’ll have to compete with other men to keep you but also less sleep to keep you satisfy.”
”Too bad for you the lady will ALWAYS encourage him to stay focus and be the best. There's no competition Mr. Horner especially not when I have to deal with men like you. I’m surprised that you’re so obsessed with him that you worry about his sexual life. Or is yours that miserable that you feel the need to imagine Lewis one ?”
”It’s easy to be supportive when everything is fine, we’ll see what happens when Lewis will go though a rough phase.”
”You have no idea what you’re talking about but I think we lost enough time today. Goodbye Mr. Horner.”
”Yeah goodbye Christopher.” Priscila added with a smirk on her face.
”Actually it’s Christian.”
”Whatever.” Priscila snapped back
Toto Wolff himself joined the conversation, ”Christian I advise you to have some respect and leave Y/N out of the rivalry.”
”There's nothing wrong, I was just trying to get to know her that’s it. See you on track Torger.”
Toto face stiffened when he heard Christian pronounced his name, he breathed calmly before turning to you. ”What did he say to you ? He has no morals so be very careful with him.”
Your bestie responded for you, ”He tried to destabilize her by hitting on her.”
”Okay ladies, it’s qualification day so we need Lewis focus. This episode stays between us until the end of the grand prix.” Both of you agreed before joining Mercedes garage.
”I hope you took time for pictures and not because you were talking to Pierre.”
”Lewis be serious please.”
You let a kiss on the top of his helmet as good luck charm before the quali starts. Attending races was all fun until you had to sit there and feel all the emotions.
At the end, it was all worth it because Lewis would start P1 tomorrow. You hugged your bestie as both of you jumped and screamed out of joy. The second Lewis got out of the car, you run to hug him tightly. ”You’re truly the best, I’m so proud of you. Love you.”
Grand Prix day finally arrived, your bestie and you walked proudly down the paddock rocking an African printed dress with heels, a small bag, sunglasses and loose braids to improve it all. People all around the paddock couldn’t help but compliment you. ”You look AMAZING.”, ”Queen your dress is fantastic.”, ”We don’t deserve you I swear, you never miss a beat.”, ”Paddock queen snapped again.” As you smiled to say thank you, a pair of bright eyes burning of jealousy stared at you intensely.
Lewis best rival girlfriend was looking at you up and down, the shady queen you were decided to play. Smile on your face, you greeted her. ”Hey Kelly, good luck for today.” Your bestie couldn’t help but laugh at your shadiness.
”She hates you.”
”Well it’s not my fault if people appreciate me.”
Whistles greeted you when you arrived at the Mercedes garage. ”There she goes, you never cease to amaze us. The dress is perfect.”
”Thank you so much. Priscila brought it from Ivory Coast.”
”Lewis you need to win just to honor this look.”
Your boyfriend froze when he saw you, his brown eyes analyzing every details. ”Damn sweetie, you slay.”
You kissed him on the cheek as he gripped your waist and murmured into your ear, ”You had to pull such a look before the race. I hate it there. The way I’m going to pull on those braids tonight.”
”Lewis focus on the race please.” You replied before smacking his chest
Another one you thought as you saw him standing on the first step of the podium. A huge smile on your face as you proudly looked at him. Your bestie recorded everything, the radiance on her face meant that she fully enjoyed this weekend.
”Next week Monaco ?” She screamed to be heard despite the loud noises around you.
”Yes that’s it.”
”Sign me in girl but we need to come on Thursday. I want to experience seeing them racing from a yacht.”
”Your boogie ass can’t help, I see.”
”It’s on me, not Lewis.”
”He'll never let you pay and you know that. Simone, Kelly and Leeka neither.”
”OH YES MY GIRLS ARE COMING TOO! It’s going to be so fun but girl Monaco is your time to shine.”
”What you mean ?”
”SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN WITH THE LOOKS. ELEGANZA AND BOOGIE-NESS IS THE THEME.”
”Okay but I will need your photographer services.”
”I GOT YOUR BACK SIS.”
”Stop screaming I can hear you.” Both of you exploded in laughter.
Head against Lewis shoulder, arms entangled. The both of you were ready to fall asleep in the private jet yet your bestie screamed.”EWWW”
”Sis what happened ?”
”Horner started to follow you on the gram. Block this peasant please.”
Lewis eyebrows furrowed. ”The fuck he wants. I know you’re that girl but damn, anybody but him.”
”Lewis I have something to tell you but promise you won’t do anything stupid.”
”Tell me sweetie.”
Soon you started to tell him about how Horner talked to you twice and tried to hit up on you. Lewis jaw clenched and his eyes became darker.
”Lewis don’t do anything stupid, take the higher road he's not worth it.”
”He's crossing a line Y/N, he can’t bring you in the rivalry.”
”That's why you're going to show them who’s the boss by winning the championship. The rest I can handle it.”
”Wow you can’t tell me to stay calm and let you handle it. You’re crazier than I am.”
”Just win in Monaco and you'll see.”
”If you think that I’m going to let him slip you’re wrong.”
”Lewis, I know Y/N let her handle the business for you. She's shadier than you think. F1 is your main focus, the rest we’re on it.”
”Fine Priscila I trust you to tone her down if she's taking it too far.”
Priscila added, ”By the way Lewis, I’m renting a yacht next week so we can watch free practice from here.”
”Never. I got it all, focus on the looks. The rest is on me.”
Later on, you realized that Lewis didn’t listen to what you said because he posted a story. ”Whatever you say, do or try, it won’t stop me. I will stay positive and keep pushing to win as much as I can.”
”Lew you’re stubborn, we told you not to publish anything. Christian will push even harder.”
”He won’t because I’m going to win the championship.”
Priscila hyped him up even more. ”Yeah shut his useless mouth for good.”
Thursday morning, Maleeka, Kelly and Simone freshly arrived from New York while Priscila arrived from Paris. No matter how hard Lewis insisted, the girls refused to stay in the apartment, they preferred not invade your privacy. Instead, you offered them to pay for the hotel but they cursed you out. These stubborn women, booked everything by their own to block Lewis and you from making any moves.
The boogie girls, they were picked one of the fanciest hotel of the city : Hotel Paris de Monte Carlo. Priscila went to the receptionist for the check-in, soon she came back to you. ”Bitch you promised that you wouldn’t pay for us. On top of that a suite are fucking insane ?”
”Wow calm down, I haven’t done anything. I may be doing better financially but I don’t think my wallet would be okay waisting 5000€ per night on a suite.”
”5000€ are you kidding ? The suite is 15000€ per night. We made a reservation for the most basic hotel rooms. Now she's telling me that everything is paid for our suite. I thought she was kidding.”
Kelly : ”Even the basic ones are expensive as fuck.”
Priscila : ”If it wasn’t for you Y/N..."
Simone : ”Babes stop fighting, Lewis is behind it.”
Priscila : ”You promised not to tell him.”
”I haven’t said anything. I have no idea how he found your hotel girls, I swear.” You said in a desperate tone.
Maleeka : ”If we ask him and he says it’s you. You're catching these hands.”
Loud gasps could be heard as you entered the suite, Maleeka lost her mind and surprised you all with a loud scream. ”It’s amazing ! Better than what we initially booked.”
The living room, two bedrooms, bathrooms and the terrace were worth the money.
Priscila : ”It’s great but I truly wanted to pay. He doesn’t have to impress us anymore, we have adopted him for him not his money.”
Maleeka jumped in, ”I swear we know he's wealthy, no need to flex on us.”
”He's not flexing, he just wants the best for you girls.”
Simone : ”He's a true gentleman, I truly admire him for that.”
Kelly : ”Y/N, your man is gold. I’m truly moved by the gesture.”
Priscila : ”Our girl is a diamond, have you seen how she got everybody sweating on that fucking paddock ? He knows what the stakes are, so he'll do anything to impress her.”
Kelly : ”TRUE. People are already wondering what looks you’re going to pull off.”
”Well you’ll see.”
Simone : ”Okay girls let’s drink that fancy bottle of champagne.”
Maleeka : ”Cheers to Lewis, I hope he wins this weekend.”
That night as you comfortably laid your head on his lap, enjoying the fresh breeze on his balcony, you couldn’t help but ask, ”Lew ? How did you find the girls hotel ?”
”Asked my assistant to look into every 4 or 5 stars hotels. I had their names so it was pretty easy. I just upgraded their reservation that’s it.”
”Lewis ! We promised we won’t do anything, now they think I snitched their hotel name so you could do something.”
”Listen sweetie, I know what your friends mean to you. They're like your family, it makes sense if I treat them like you. The way they support me and defend me online, I couldn’t let them stay in a basic room.”
His hands caressed your cheek as you pecked his lips. ”Thank you so much. It means a lot to me. The girls and I are truly moved by your gesture, they even refused to text you to thank you. They want to do it in front of you.”
A soft smile decorated his face.” We should go to sleep babe.”
”Yes sir.” To avoid having sex, you slept in separated rooms. Even if Lewis insisted, swearing that nothing would happen, Angela and you knew better.
Comfortably seated in the yacht to watch free practice, you opted for a monochromatic look, a ponytail and an elegant makeup. A good opportunity to take pictures with the girls. The food and alcohol improved the overall experience, seeing your girls with stars in their eyes meant the world to you.
Simone : ”Are we going to the casino tonight ?”
Kelly : ”Only if Paddock queen is coming.”
”Y’all can call me by my name, we’re between us.”
”Guess I can call you bitch then.” Joked Malika sipping on a Martini cocktail.
”Behave before you catch these hands.”
Priscila : ”Y/N not to act like your community manager but you need to post tonight. Let the world know that you’re here, so they stay tuned.”
Kelly : ”Yes you look so boogie, I love it.”
”Thank you, I struggled to find pieces but still I succeeded.”
Simone : ”I thought you were going to say still I rise.”
You rolled your eyes as you giggled. ”You’re aggravating.”
Priscila : ”Wait a freaking minute, is that a Kelly bag on your lap ?”
Kelly : ”Oh shit, I haven’t even noticed.”
Maleeka : ”I thought you were too broke for a suite uh ?”
”Calm down it’s a gift from Lewis, it was one of my dream bag. He gifted it to me for our first anniversary.”
Priscila : ”Damn that man is generous because no matter how much money my ex had, he never gifted me such expensive bags.”
Simone : ”You dated the wrong guy.”
Maleeka : ”Girl, is it true that every year after the grand prix the drivers go to the club to celebrate ?”
”Yes, Lewis told me about that. We're supposed to go too.”
Kelly : ”Not to be that annoying person but I hope that electro music isn’t the only type of music here.”
”Oh yes it is but they'll probably play hip-hop too because of all the celebs. Maybe one of you will find their significant other there.” You teased
Maleeka : ”White boys ain’t my type unless his name is Chris Evans or Hemsworth.”
Priscila : ”Y/N you got yourself the finest man of the grid, game over.”
Simone : ”Yes forget about it. Anyway Casino tonight yes or no ?”
Maleeka : ”Y/N needs to post before we talk about the casino.”
”Fine. I’ll post.”
You finally posted plenty photos with the caption. ”Turning into a lucky charm for this weekend.”
A caption that didn’t go unnoticed.”OMG Paddock queen is there and ready to serve.”, ”Lewis will win for sure, he has the prettiest lucky charm.”,”Her feet off our necks please.”
Coming home late from the casino was a terrible idea for someone who had to walk down the paddock with a F1 superstar.
”Lewis I cannot ride a motorbike in this outfit. You should have told me earlier.”
”Well, it would have been hard since you came home at 6.00 AM.”
”I meant you should have told me a month ago. Are you kidding ?”
”No I’m dead serious, we were supposed to talk about paddock outfits as usual but no. Miss wanted to overdrink at the casino.”
”Are you really mad at me for enjoying myself at the casino ? I’m not the one racing so I see no problems there.”
”Yes I can tell. I’ll go by motorbike with Angie. The Mercedes van will be waiting for you.”
His harsh tone offended you but you decided to take the higher road to avoid messing his mind up before the qualification race.
”We can go separately but walk down together.”
”I’m fine thanks, I need to focus anyway.”
”So now I’m a distraction to you ? You know what ? Go with Angie. We’ll talk about your attitude later.”
He walked out of the apartment without another word. As soon as he left you talked by yourself. ”If it wasn’t for that race boy.”
The Monaco grand prix weekend was very different than the other ones. In fact, you felt like it was a kind of jet-setters and celebrities reunion. A world you preferred to stay far away from. Every head turned when you walked down the paddock in your all white outfit, for race qualification. A look that attracted many eyes as you walked down the paddock with your friends, all of you walking as if you were on a catwalk. ”Paddock Queen hello !”
A journalist followed you but you shut it down real quick. ”I’m not answering questions sorry. I’m here for Lewis.” As you walked down the paddock, something caught your eye. A certain wag had pulled out a green monochromatic look as well.
Maleeka : ”Paddock queen is out there inspiring people.”
”There's nothing wrong with that she looks fine.”
Tensions between Lewis and you were pretty obvious for those who knew you. When you arrived to the garage you hugged him but anger could be felt in his embrace so it looked weird. The girls immediately hugged him tightly before handing him a small box.
Simone : ”We wanted to thank you for your generosity and kindness.”
Maleeka : ”I hope you’re gonna like it.”
Kelly : ”It’s not that much but we thought, you would like it.”
Lewis opened it in front of them while thanking them many times in the process. His face brighten up when he saw the amethyst bracelet .
”I love it so much, you know me girls. It means a lot to me.”
Priscila : ”One question before we move on, did Y/N snitched the hotel name ?”
”No I asked to my assistant to look for your reservation in every 4 and 5 stars hotel. She kept your secret safe.”
Maleeka : ”Good otherwise her ass would have been wooped.”
”Fuck off Maleeka.”
Despite the tension, you kissed the top of his helmet as usual. Even during fights, the emotions were still pretty intense when you watched him race in front of you. The second you heard Bono confirming the P1, all of you cheered in the garage.
Hearing your name from his mouth never sounds good. Sweetie, babe or sweetheart was the way to go.
”You can go to the casino tonight. I’m going to stay with the team to discuss about tomorrow strategy.”
”Excuse me ? Are you going to rub that shit all over my face for the rest of your life. I never planned to stay that late and even if I did, I don’t see the issue.”
”Oh you don’t see the issue really ? You promised to come home here is the thing. The only moment we had to talk was 5 minutes before I leave for quali.”
”Well I’m sorry Lewis but I don’t own you an apology. You have my number if you truly wanted to talk to me, you should have called or texted. Admit you hate the fact that I came back home at 6:00 am.”
”As if when you go partying and come back at 7:00 or more you hear me say some.”
”That’s the problem you never said anything, why start now ? If it bothers you, speak about it.”
”Because it never bothered me, I just wanted to spend time with my girlfriend because I know that I won’t see her for at least two weeks.”
”Lewis how I’m supposed to know that ? You need to speak up.”
”Don’t act like you would have leave your girls to come back home to me.”
”What is that supposed to mean ?”
His hand rubbed his forehead as he sighed heavily. ”I have a race to win tomorrow. Have fun tonight.”
Frustration and nerves were covering your face as you watch him leave you standing in the middle of the alley.
That night, you refused to go out instead you ordered room service in the girl suite to enjoy the terrace breathtaking view.
”Y/N, you good ?” Priscila interrupted your thoughts by gently rubbing you thigh.
”Yes just tired”
Maleeka : ”You can’t lie to us Y/N, I could feel the tension from a mile.”
”Everything is fine trust me ladies. He was just nervous.” Priscila understood that something was on but you had no wish to talk about it. She decided to switch subject to avoid further question from Maleeka, Simone or Kelly.
”Girl have you seen the comments about your last outfit ? You’re that bitch. Let me read some”
”Not Lewis girlfriend turning the paddock into a runway.”, ”I love how everybody is obsessed with Y/N, we even tend to forget about Lewis.”, ”I’m definitely jealous of Lewis, she's incredible.”I don’t even care about F1, I’m basically here for her looks.”, ”Monochromatic queen.”
Adding the final touch to your look, you looked at yourself in the mirror before going on the balcony to take pictures for your blog and instagram. The occasion was pretty significant so hire a professional photographer was necessary.
”Perfect we can go now.”
Your class, charisma and elegance turned more head than you could count. Today you went for a complete elegant look combined with a pair of Christian Dior heels. Many people stopped you to compliment your appearance. Even Toto couldn’t help but tell you, ”Quelle élégance madame. Toujours ravissante.” - What an elegance, always so beautiful.
”Thank you very much Mr. Wolff.”
A pair of hazel eyes caught your attention, Lewis couldn’t help but stare at you. He contemplated you in awe before saying, ”You look fantastic Y/N.”
You thanked him as you understood the subtlety of his compliment. The fact that he called you Y/N means that he was still pissed. Minutes later, it was your turn to be pissed, seeing Lewis ex fling at the Monaco GP rubbed you all the wrong way. However, your desire to see him on that podium was stronger than the urge to fight him.
Thankfully the fight you had earlier didn’t stop him from winning one more time. A huge smile on your face as you look at him spilling champagne on everybody around him. He avoided splashing the crowd when you were there because you threatened him. ”You’re dating a black woman so forget any ideas that involves champagne showers. Otherwise, I’ll go on strike.”
He looked at you in confusion. "A strike ?”
”It’s a subtle manner to declare that I won’t let you have sex with me for a long time.”
”Sex with you over champagne showers always.” You rolled your eyes at his response before you playfully smacked his chest.
Susie softy patted your shoulder to tell you, ”The lucky charm worked, Mercedes had an amazing weekend.”
After the podium Lewis hugged you while he murmured in your ear. ”Thank you for your unconditional support babe.”
Priscila : ”Girl you’re trending because those weekend fits babe. AMAZING.”
”Really ? Wow I truly appreciate the love and support.” You replied while applying your highlighter at the same time.
Maleeka : ”Let me read a few comments”
”Not her outshining princess Charlene like that.”, ”I hope Lewis knows that he has a diamond next to him.”, ”She looks so expensive, some wags should take lessons.”, ”Paddock queen has snapped again.”
Simone : ”Some comments are hilarious.”
Kelly : ”Only the club outfit is missing.”
As you waited for Lewis to go back to the apartment, pettiness jumped out of your body when you spotted the man who bothered you more time than you could count.
”Bonsoir Mr. Horner. Today was a pretty close one huh ? Am I still invited to that party ?”
The man replied with a frown on his face ”Hi Y/N, we did the best we could today. Max fought like a lion, he's the driver of the day.”
”You’re not answering my question. I asked is the invitation still on ?” Christian simply smiled at you before leaving.
Maleeka : ”That’s my girl.”
In the car, to dig his grave you posted pictures you’ve took earlier with the caption, ”Elegance and Excellence, only roll with the wining teams. #Thosewhogetitgetit”
Tonight was supposed to be a great night to celebrate Lewis win but his attitude annoyed you to the highest point. He literally ignored you on the way back to the condo. Too bad for him, you were in a bitchy mood especially after seeing his ex boo boo wandering around Mercedes garage.
”How would I know she’d be there ?”
”She has enough money to pay for VIP tickets, you act as if I invited her. It’s impossible Y/N, I can only give 5 VIP access per week. I gave it all to you and the girls.”
”I’m not coming to the paddock to see your old flings Lewis. The only reason I haven’t said shit earlier is because I wanted you to win. Don’t you ever think I’m okay with it.”
”I haven’t invited her Y/N, what you don’t understand there ? Why would I invite other girls when my girlfriend is coming to support me. What I’m supposed to do ban her from races ?”
”You handle however you want but this is the first and last time I see your exes around the paddock. Otherwise, I will never come there again. You ignored me, gave me an attitude the whole weekend and now I’m supposed to be okay having your flings around the garage. Fuck no Lewis.”
”If you don’t even trust me, I don’t know.”
”Omg it’s not even about trust Lewis, you know what. I’m leaving, I don’t wanna say shit I’m going to regret.”
”Fine, see you at the club.”
If your boyfriend wanted to ignore you and play games fine, other guys will notice you. Red painted lips, soft curls, dress and heels on, you were ready to slay.
Priscila : ”The second Lewis will see you in that outfit, you're going home to get fucked.”
Loud laughs invaded the bathroom as the four girls giggled pissing you off in the process.
”As long as he doesn’t apologize for his attitude, his hands won’t touch my body. Let’s go we’re already late.” You decided to tease a little bit by posting not one but two stories of you on Instagram.
Lewis only interacted with you that night to give you all the infos and let you know that he has arrived. The club was completely crowded since everyone wanted to party with F1 drivers.
Your girls and yourself had no problem entering the VIP section, especially not looking that hot. Lewis could feel when you were near him, soon every head turned to look at his gorgeous girlfriend. Hennessy got stuck in his throat when he saw you. Heat and desire invaded his mind and body as he looked at you. Suddenly he felt the urge to talk to you, especially when he noticed how some of his fellow drivers were staring at his sweetie.
Seeing Pierre laughing at your jokes and eyeing you up and down, pissed him off more than anything. His friends immediately noticed how his face stiffened.
”Forget about whatever happened earlier, Gasly is giving her puppy eyes.”
”She's very receptive too.”
”Bruh, you let Kendall come to the GP. What did you expected ? I mean I know she came by her own but still.Go get your girl because the way some dudes are eyeing the shit out of her is going to make you regret.”
”I know her, she's doing that to piss me off. I hate that it’s working.”
”She knew what she was doing, she even pulled out her sexiest dress. When your girl looks that good you cannot ignore her.”
”I got this.” He abruptly interrupted your conversation with Pierre, Charles and Priscilla. George teased, ”The frenchies are sharing French private jokes, we cannot participate.”
Charles immediately responded : ”I’m Monegasque not French.”
Priscila : ”Yeah we know.”
”Charles stop flexing we got it.” You teased
Lewis : ”Hey sweetie, how I’m supposed to know you in there when you haven’t greeted me ?”
”Hi Lewis.” You answered in a nonchalant tone.
He suddenly gripped your waist but you knew better, you turned around to avoid him touching you.
”I need to grab a drink, I’ll be right back.”
Heels shining through the dark as you made your way back to your girls, a man stopped you by grabbing your wrist.
”Hey I’m Sergio but you can call me Checo. I don’t think we met before.”
”No we never did.”
”I just wanted to tell you that you look fantastic.” Alcohol was all you could smell when he talked to you. The gold ring on his finger telling you that he's a married man.
”Thank you Sergio I’m sure your wife is even prettier.” He looked at you with confused eyes.
Before you could pursue Lewis came out of nowhere. ”You needed 10 minutes to get a drink ?”
”Lewis as you can see, I was talking to Sergio.”
He grabbed you waist to pull you next to him. ”You met my girlfriend ? She is amazing huh ? Isn’t she ?”
Sergio gulped and shyly nodded. ”Yes she is.”
Lewis couldn’t help but add, ”Pretty sure your wife would be happy to meet her.”
Sergio couldn’t stop nodding and humming in response, embarrassment gained him. His best option was to say goodbye and leave.
Lewis grabbed your hand but you freed yours. ”Sir has the audacity to play the jealous boyfriend while he ignored her all day long.”
”We’ll talk about at home, not here.”
An hour later, you were talking to Pierre mostly laughing loudly about jokes and showing each other favorite memes on Instagram. Lewis looking at you with fire in his eyes, you knew that he was more than pissed.
”I love your sense of humor Y/N, beauty and fun is the best combo. Too bad you're Lewis girlfriend. I have too much respect for him to make a move.”
Eyes wide open, you stared at his him surprised by his boldness. ”Wow so if I was dating any other driver, you would have tried something ? ”
”Yes you’re worth it, expect Yuki and Charles of course.”
Suddenly Lewis sat right next to you, a hand on your thigh as he said loudly, ”What are you guys talking about ?” You rolled your eyes at his intervention.
Pierre : ”Nothing special just sharing memes and laughs.”
Lewis : ”Oh I see that’s great.Sweetie you look a bit tired, don’t you want to go home ?”
Too bad for him, you were in a mood to play with his nerves. ”I’m good Sir, you know I’m a party girl. I can handle a bit of tiredness”
His mouth came closer to your ear to say, ”We need to talk.”
”Talk about what ? You’re done giving me an attitude ?”
”Cut that shit down with Pierre.”
”I’m still allowed to talk and joke with other men.”
”Yes but you’re borderline flirting. It’s disrespectful.”
”As if when I was flirting with you this how I acted. I’m afraid your memory is playing you. Plus, you're in no position to tell me shit when you're bringing bitches around the garage.”
Pierre felt the tensions and choose to interrupt your private conversation. ”I’m going to see where Charles is.”
”Stay Pierre, we were having so much fun.”
Lewis wasn’t having it. ”Great idea Pierre. Charles is probably looking for you.”
Intimidation could be read all over Pierre face but you weren’t going to let Lewis win. ”Charles is a grown man, I’m sure he'll find you if he's truly looking for you. Plus I’m not sure he's as funny as I am.”
”He's not I know. You’re so lucky Lewis. I’m going to let you enjoy your woman. Have a great night.”
When the both of you were alone on the sofa, you pushed Lewis hands off your thighs before getting up and join your girls but he stopped you by pulling your wrist and make you sit on his lap.
”Lewis let me go. The only reason I let you slip earlier was because I wanted you to win the race. Now that it’s done, I don’t have to play nice anymore.”
”It doesn’t justify your behavior tonight. Flirting with my fellow drivers seriously ?”
”Lewis stop putting the blame on me when it’s your fault. You ignored me, gave me an attitude but what you forgot is that other men would notice me.”
”Noticing you doesn’t mean that you have to flirt back.”
”The audacity you have to talk about flirt.”
”Y/N I’m saying it AGAIN, I did not invite her. Her mother wanted us to date but I didn’t want to. So why the fuck would I be interested now ? Especially when I have such an incredible girlfriend.
”Whatever. For your information, I didn’t flirt Lewis. I just get along with Pierre in a friendly manner. He even said that he respects you too much to flirt with me.”
”He better not. I’m not even playing games with anyone when it comes to you.”
Your rolled your eyes at him.”Lewis you piss me off sometimes. You literally ignored me the whole weekend because I had fun at the casino. You’re in no position to be mad right now.”
”It’s not about you having fun or coming home late, it’s about you and me time. The girls are with you in New York all the time. I’m not, I just hoped that you came home earlier so I could spend time with my sweetie.”
You hated when he played the softie during a fight but still your heart melted at his words.
However, he needed to be reminded that you cannot be fouled with cute sentences, you wanted a full apology for his behavior and the fact that he ignored you.
”Now that you’ve seen how your fellow mates are thirsty for me, you're pulling a cute act ? I’m not falling for it Lewis.” You discreetly got up from his lap and joined the girls.
Alcohol running through your veins as you sang your heart out, a small tap on the shoulder stopped you. As you turned to snap, you recognize Kylian Mbappé THE French football star. He greeted like French people do with a kiss on both cheeks. ”Bonsoir Mademoiselle, I saw at the grand prix this weekend. Just wanted to tell you that I truly admire your style.”
”Hello, Kylian thank you very much. It’s very pleasing to hear.” Soon both of you were talking about many topics at the same time, Kylian was looking at you softly trying to make you laugh time to time.
Lewis saw that from afar and decided to end his conversation with Bella Hadid & Kendall to join his girl. It was supposed to be a great night for him but his mood changed when he saw that he couldn’t even leave you alone for 5 minutes. Also, knowing that you were mad at him didn’t make him feel any better. The provocative side of you, would not let him rest until you’ve solved the issue.
”Hey Kylian how are you doing ?”
Both of them hugged before he turned to you. ”I’ve seen that you met my lady, Y/N.”
”Wow she's your girlfriend ?”
”Yes, the one and only.” Pride could be heard into Lewis voice. Kylian eyes left yours immediately after he heard these words. His focus quickly shifted to fully concentrate on Lewis, you rolled your eyes at Lewis behavior.
”Gentlemen, I’m going to let you talk. See you later.”
Not even 5 minutes later, Lewis followed you and held your wrist . ”We’re going home. I can’t even enjoy without you being hit on. Plus, we need to talk.”
You crossed your arms in front of him, your eyebrows expressing your frustration : ”I’m going to sleep in the suite with the girls after the party. I’m not coming back to the apartment.”
”Sweetie, please, look I’m sorry. Ignoring you was childish but I felt like it would have lead to a fight. Something I don’t need before a race.”
”You need to do better than I’m sorry.”
”I apologize, you’re right I should have told you that I wanted to spend more time with you and not ignore you. I’m sorry sweetie, don’t think that I don’t want you to enjoy yourself. Seeing you happy is the most important to me.”
”I don’t know Lew.”
”Damn babe, forget about Kendall. I don’t care about her. I’m not going to apologize for her because she came by her own.”
His eyes deeply plunged into yours. ” I cannot put a restriction on them. I don’t have that kind of power babe and you know. Look, I want to be right next to you as much as I can. We don’t see each other that often, are we really going to waste our time for small arguments like that ?”
His hands grabbed your waist and pulled you toward him. ”Can my sweetie forgive me and accept to spend the night with me ?”
”Hum depends on your behavior for the rest of the night.”
The night went on as you danced to your favorite rap songs but when Wild Thoughts came on, your body immediately turned to Lewis to dance and grind against him showing everybody that you are his and he is yours. ”Kitty, kitty, baby give that thing some rest”
He looked pretty surprised yet he held your waist pretty quickly with eyes full of lust. ”You look so good tonight babe.”
”It’s for you Lew.” You answered purring into his ear. Alcohol started to take over you and wake your horniness up. ”Only you.”
His arm embraced your tummy as he kissed your cheek and caressed your hips. ”I’m very honored sweetie.”
Lewis felt pride when his hands was all over you, it was a great opportunity to show every man in this room that you were his girlfriend and no one else could have you.
Lips parted, your head turned to kiss him, arms wrapped around his shoulder as your tongue travelled to his mouth.
”Lewis take me home. I need you inside of me.”
”Ssh babe we’re in public.”
”Yes but I want you.”
Lewis reaction was taking too long, so you anticipated and started to say goodbye to everyone before taking Lewis hand to lead him out of the club.
His hands roamed all over your body as both of you entered the Monaco apartment to join the balcony. Your boyfriend stopped kissing you and stared at you.
”Let me make it up to you.”
He got on his knees to take your heels off before putting your thigh around on his shoulder. Lewis took his time with you, caressing you softly. The balcony fresh breeze contrasted with your burning body. Before you know it, his tongue was playing around your cunt.
”Lewis please, I cannot take your teasing tonight.”
He slapped your cheeks, ”It’s Sir.”
His mouth passionately made love to your heat as you moaned loudly in the air. His tongue lapped every part of you which left your legs shaking. Still, Lewis continued he had one mission : make you feel good and come all over his tongue.
”How does it feel sweetie ?”
”So - so - good.”
An inaudible scream came out of your mouth as you came all over your lover tongue. He brought you even closer to him to clean you up.
”Lewis please. I can’t my legs are going to pass out.”
”Come on I know you can.”
Your stomach clenched once again before you orgasmed a second time that night. To avoid standing still after your strong orgasm, you collapsed on the sofa. Lewis topped you for a passionate kiss, his beard glistened with your juice. You could taste yourself on his mouth as he lowered his pants. Dress lifted up he entered you, his hands softly caressing your face as you placed your legs around his waist for a better angle.
”Oh shit, sweetie you’re so fucking tight.”
”It feels amazing Sir.”
Soon your nails plunged into his shoulder as he pounded you harder and harder, making you mewl, moan and purr in his ears. His moans and groans turned you on even more.
”No one else can make you feel that good.”
Words couldn’t come out of your mouth when you were getting fucked that good. Minutes later after he played with your bud, your walls clenched around him, tears formed in your eyes as you came holding him tighter. ”Sir come for me please. I want it.”
The moon stared at you when he realized his cum deep inside of you. ”Sweetie fuck.”
His head rested on you breast as you caressed his braided hair. ”Sweetie ?”
”Yes Lew Lew ?”
”What happened today might happen in the future but I just want to tell you that your presence is the most important for me. They’ll try to come to the garage to have my attention but I want you to know that you’re the only one I care and think about. Even if you see the media spreading rumors, don’t fall for it. No matter who comes to the garage. Promise me.”
”Lew I don’t like that but I accept you despite your past hoe life. I promise I'll keep my calm and communicate with you as much as I can.”
He let out a small laugh. ”Past hoe life, how I’m supposed to take it ?”
”How it is. Ex hoe who changed because of love.” You teased
He let out a giggle before responding, ”Shut up Y/N.”
After a long night full of sexual activities, you decided to stay in bed to enjoy some rest but your urge to be the best version of yourself took over. You ended up scrolling through Instagram to see how you could improve it. Unfortunately, you had to see Jacky Stewart criticizing Lewis by telling that he should retire to focus on fashion. A comment you weren't having. To reply to this one, you posted a picture with the following caption, ”There is two type of people in the world, those who are writing down their legend and those who read about those legends. Pick a side.”
Soon many F1 fans got the message. ”Lewis gf said Jacky go read about Lewis”,”Sis said Jacky stfu please.”,”I love how everybody understands who she talking about without even dropping names.”, ”Sis said Jacky who ?”
Lewis entered the room after seeing your story. ”We’re a good team. You throw shade outside and I throw shade on the grid. Gotta love it for us.”
”I told you last time, focus on racing.”
He approached you to kiss your nose and rub your cheek. ”Not too tired ?”
”Are you kidding ? I’m exhausted, you need to chill with my body Lew.”
”I’m not going to see you for two weeks, gotta enjoy.”
Weeks would pass and your paddock queen title became more important as you got more attention on your blog and social media but also your personal shopper business.
An attention which brought jealousy from some wag, Lewis fans were defending you after they saw Kelly like then unlike something shady about you. ”Tbh as a F1 fan I’m pissed that the paddock has turned into some runaway just because of two person extravagance.”
She wasn’t important enough for you, thus she didn’t deserve any attention from you. You refused to give her credit and spotlight.
A few weeks later, your opinion changed when you saw her rocking a white hat very similar to yours and a flowery dress. The audacity that woman had baffled you, her instagram shows that she tried to pay more attention to fashion the second you’ve been referred as Paddock queen.
You needed to calm her down a little bit, so you decided to throw shade at her without mentioning her. A throwback to your all white outfit was necessary for her to understand that it was about her.
”If someone inspires you, let them know but criticizing to copy right after is always a poor decision. Anyway as they say in french, toujours imité mais jamais égalé. #Trendsetter” (Often imitated but never equalled)
Quickly many people connected the dots and commented, ”She is throwing shade at Kelly.”, ”She shouldn’t even care nobody does it like her.”, ”We are forever thankful, she upgraded the bar for paddock looks.”, ”A queen can’t never be equalled no matter how hard they tried.”,”I love how Lewis girlfriend is not about that take the higher road stuff, sis is out there throwing shade on those peasants.”
”Like it or not, I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to stay.”
A Whole Man is Hard to Find (An Elvis/Austin Au Fic)
Chapter 5: You were out finding trouble again, there’s a fire in your eyes and there's blood on your hands
Summary: An Elvis AU taking place on a riverboat casino in the 1870’s, you’re welcome to imagine either Elvis or Austin’s portrayal. See general warnings on first chapter.
Warnings: (contains spoilers) -a brief but graphic description of a fatal stabbing, hints of PTSD from a similar past event, crude language regarding consent, Captain Presley continuing to be a magnificently incorrigible bastard but this time with a side of simping, a brief hint at a blood kink -not placed here for the kinkiness so much as the emotional growth it represents…but it’s 1870’s kinky, who am I kidding. I did not give you smut, because why would I when I could give you finger sucking. Finger sucking of bloody fingers to be precise. I’m making a bigger deal of this than necessary but I’m trash at these summaries, apologies. Masterlist
Violating the single condition laid upon you by Captain Presley -namely, to stay below the top deck whenever there were guests aboard- in a gamble to win back his good humor was a decidedly idiotic tactic. But fool that you were, you climbed up the narrow crew stairs to the third deck balcony, armed with Etta’s advice and the little brown medicine bottles clanking in your pocket. Up there on the topmost deck of the steamer the breeze moved the thick river air easily and it soothed you from the hours of torture you’d inflicted upon yourself by staying in the office all day, the rocking slowly turning your insides to mush.
Making your way to the bow of the steamer you noticed through the windows the many guests already seated and dining, watching you pass by through the glass with the kind of intrigue that is particular to the wealthy when watching servants at work. Because that’s what you were now, your tidy dress cut in the new fashion and dyed in black with pink piping, matching the other ladies on staff. The ones who were not available for entertainment purposes, that is. It had taken one lost guest wandering the halls of the lowest deck politely asking you what you charged for half an hour of your company for Captain Presley to insist you give up the demure day dresses he was so fond of in favor of the crew uniform. You appreciated it, loathe to be mistaken for other than what you were, if not for your own sake then to keep his ravening temper in check.
Speaking of that temper, each step you took closer to the wheelhouse had your chest fluttering in apprehension. Up at the bow you were startled by the sight of a crimson sun burning the river in its last hurrah before it sank beneath the horizon, the woods on either side of the water having turned a dark blue You had not realized it was so late.
You glanced both ways down the deserted balcony before hauling your skirts up and gingerly taking the narrow set of stairs that led up to the boxy little wheelhouse. You had not truly gotten your sea legs yet and last time you’d gone up here you’d had the captain’s hand on your elbow, his enthralling stories of blockade running taking your mind off the sheer distance above the water that you were now scaling.
As you took the last step, your foot meeting the narrow deck in front of the bridge window, you came nearly face to face with the man himself -and a decadently dressed lady who was missing out on the roast duck being served right below.
You might have been proven to be a fool this morning, but you weren’t idiot enough to suppose that you were the only lady he took up here, no doubt gently guiding their hands as he had yours to grasp the massive wheel, standing behind them for stability and goading them into letting out a little “whoop” at the feeling of power it gave one to move that magnificent boat any which way. No, you hadn’t quite expected this but you were rational enough to feel only amusement at the sight of his face morphing from smirking self confidence to astonishment at your sudden appearance. You gave them both a little wave through the glass and went around side to the narrow door.
“Good evening,” you greeted cheerily and she smiled back at you, seemingly out of habit, “I was told I’d find you here!”
Shame either makes or breaks a person and you found that hitting rock bottom yet again in your life had inspired you to rise up stronger and steadier and desiring to punch something if possible. The immaculate line of his nose looked particularly beckoning for a fist right about now.
“Good evening!” she looked at you intrigued, distinct Yankee accent immediately explaining her pampered complexion and well dressed frame.
Her bustle was crunched against his front as she stood before him barely holding onto the wheel, flimsy stance causing her to sway an excessive amount with each pitch of the boat. He looked aggravated when he caught her waist at a particularly bad roll, and you weren’t certain if his momentary scowl was directed at you or her. He had taught you to spread your legs to keep your balance, and due to your practical skirt you had done it easily, standing now before him in confidence, nothing at all like this corseted rag-doll in his arms.
“You need something, Miss Beaumont?” he cut in before more inane pleasantries could be exchanged.
Getting him to take his medicines like a good little boy was a steep challenge even before you learned he had company. Doing so in front of a guest would be unthinkable and you cast about for a moment trying to think of an excuse to get him down below, but then who would steer? Apparently he had asked Jerry Shilling and anyone else to clear the bridge for this little rendezvous and that made your mouth sour.
“I was given a message to pass onto you from Mr. Black, sir, but I’m sure it can wait.” you chose to answer thus, knowing that the mention of the house dealer Mr. Black would cause him enough concern to wrap up his endeavor speedily.
Predictably his brows knitted together briefly before he cleared his throat and directed a smile down to the wispy thing before him, “We’ll be done shortly, gotta make sure you don’t miss your supper, anyhow, ain’t that right Miss Peabody?” he was lathering on the charm and she was fluttering beneath it like a hungry baby bird.
“Peabody?” you repeated in amusement, “Why, did he tell you Miss, that he’s got a frilly little french breed named Sweet Pea that keeps him company in the night? This seems a match made in heaven.”
You weren’t certain where the venom came from but you felt some feral sense of ownership over that body of his, still covered as it was in your slick from this morning. Pretending to have spent the morning in a manner other than how it was…ha, look at him now.
Miss Peabody took your barb with wide eyed confusion that confirmed your theory that she was loose a few screws in the head. Glancing at him you saw his lip brought savagely between his teeth, eyes glittering at you dangerously before they suddenly widened at the sight of something behind you, and you were then being shoved to the side by a ponderous figure appearing in the doorway -who proceeded to point a revolver straight at the captain.
“The fuck you want?” Captain Presley spat at the man, having already maneuvered a screeching Miss Peabody behind him and out of danger.
You couldn’t make out the man’s face, having been shoved to the side of the little room when he came in, but in the last glow of the evening you could tell him to be a thickset individual with brandy reeking from each pore.
“I was told I’d find the purser up here.” The fellow’s unsteady stance caused the pistol to sway off its aim at the captain’s chest, and you could tell the captain was eyeing his chance to jump the man. It just wasn’t now.
“Whatcha want with the purser?” Captain Presley made his voice and bearing calm and easy, glancing at you as you remained motionless in your corner, desperately trying to find a way to take advantage of the fact the fellow had turned his back on you.
You rummaged through your pocket as discreetly as possible with the bottles in it, before your hand closed around what you were feeling for.
“I’ve been cheated out of a thousand dollars.” the man slurred, “And I’ve been informed that as it was yesterday’s losses, the dealer can’t deliver. ‘I must take my business to the purser’, he said, so I aim to.” and he steadied the barrel leveled at the captain’s chest with effort.
“Well, I can tell you now, it ain’t very bright to shoot your goddamn Captain when the boat yer on is in the middle of some considerable rapids.” Captain Presley eyed him up and down wryly before adding, “Although, seeing as how you lost a thousand at cards in one day, maybe you ain’t so bright after all.”
In retrospect you supposed he was trying to goad the man into a physical altercation, but it didn’t quite go that way. No sooner had the Captain thrown out the insult than you caught sight of the fellow’s meaty forefinger caressing the trigger and that was enough for you -you pulled your hand out of your pocket, sharpened letter opener clutched in your fist, and sprang on the man’s back. In the ensuing tussle you felt your back collide against the glass repeatedly as he tried to throw you off, then suddenly his arm was craning backwards to point the barrel at you, and on instinct you plunged the little slicer into his neck.
You hardly even heard the retort of the revolver as it went off in his spasming hand, the ceiling absorbing the bullet.
The warm gush of blood spurting over your hand and arm brought back long buried memories of cleaning up the real Miss Beaumont’s brains from off of Belle Meade’s foyer floor.
The memory viscerally shook you more than the manslaughter you had just committed and as he slumped to the ground you rolled off his shoulders and down beside him, unwanted witness to his last gurgling breaths.
“Sweet Lord.” You heard the Captain swear over an action of yours for the second time that day. He rolled the body away from you with the toe of his boot, silencing a shrill Miss Peabody with a gruff “Hey, pipe down!”
He knelt next to where you were sprawled, laying his drawn pistol by your head with a thunk, the feeling of bile rising unmistakable in the back of your throat. You savored the feeling of his warm palm against your cheek for half a second before wrenching your head to the side and emptying the contents of your belly out on the floor, the memory of that clown-headed cane colliding with Miss Beaumont’s head, again and again in sickening splatters making you gag repeatedly.
Jerry’s boots came into your line of sight, his panicked “what’s going on up here?” turning into a whispered, “Holy shit.” upon catching sight of yourself and your conquest.
“Grab the wheel, Jerry.” Elvis’ voice was steady and low, and you found you were clinging to his arm, trying to ground yourself in the present as the heaving subsided.
“What happened here?” Jerry tried again from his place at the wheel.
Miss Peabody was the one to speak up, pouring out the narrative in a voice pitched up a few octaves by hysteria, “…he drew a gun on Captain Presley and when he made to shoot she jumped on his back and plunged a knife in his throat -the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen a lady do. Although I think I’m going to faint-“
“-Don’t you fucking dare.” Captain Presley thundered at her, “One woman down is all I’ve got patience for. You got smelling salts? Yeah? Then hand ‘em over, make yourself useful.”
He shoved them under your nose and the sting they gave your sinuses reminded you why you hated him. You took the opportunity presented and smacked his hand away, rising up under your own steam and shaking out your skirts. “Im alright, I’m alright.” you insisted to yourself, patting your dress down, “Just need a handkerchief…”
Still kneeling in front of you he looked very young when viewed from above, and that unsettled you, gave you a nagging feeling that right now was a moment to treat him gently, but the sticky feel of drying blood was unsupportable to you and he must have noticed. After patting down his own pockets and coming up empty, he yanked at his collar and off came his silk neck cloth.
You were dimly aware of Jerry and Miss Peabody’s stares, but you were too busy studying the face of the body whose soul you had just freed to everlasting condemnation or reward -who knew? You felt the Captain take your hands in his, but instead of wiping them diligently as you expected, you felt the caress of plush lips against your tacky knuckles.
You drug your eyes from the corpse and down to find him gazing up at you almost reverent, blood smeared on his mouth. He bent his head at last and went to work dragging the neckcloth across your hands, just the back of his black head and the fan of his lashes visible, long legs bent beneath him. Nicking the fellow’s artery had caused blood to spray all over the small compartment, and it was not just your hands covered, the whole front of your dress was, too. You swallowed down another wave of sick.
“Are those tigers?” you queried, unbelieving.
He looked lost for a minute until you nodded at his spoilt necktie and it’s playful print. He huffed out a small acknowledgment.
“You marvelous man.” you laughed, as you had never yet seen him in stripes or dots or checks, those common prints were reserved for his shirts. The neckties had to be exquisite and bizarre in their own right.
“Don’t crack up on me now.” he muttered, slowly rising to his feel and you missed the sight of those broad shoulders from above, but this way, tall and strong and towering above you he certainly looked like shelter from the storm. He drug his thumb over the corner of your lip and wiped the sick he collected on his pant leg.
You gave in to what you needed and planted your face into his warm chest, hands going under his overcoat to cling to his vest, no doubt ruining both with crimson stains. Unflinching, he wrapped you up, a comforting hand making little circles on the back of your head like you’d seen gentler fathers than your own do.
“EP, there a magistrate aboard,” Jerry’s voice came to you muffled, as did Miss. Peabody’s unsuppressed whimpers and sobs, “it would be best to alert him to the situation speedily, so as to leave no doubt as to the necessity of the act.”
The Captain cleared his throat laboriously and you felt the rumble of it and the coarse hair of his chest against your cheek. He was warm and gentle and hadn’t stopped those soothing little circles and he smelled like a day spent in the Louisiana heat and you were melting right into it. “Reckon you’re right.” he agreed with Jerry, “You ready to go down, Miss Peabody?”
You didn’t hear her answer but he was then shuffling you towards the door, head bowed down to your ear, “Need me to carry you?” he asked and the feel of his breath tickling your ear made you shudder in reminiscence of this morning.
“No, I can walk.” to prove yourself you stepped back from him and immediately wobbled. “Alright, maybe I need your arm.” you conceded with a grin which he did not match.
He didn’t so much offer his arm as much as he grabbed yours, and roughly brought you close to him again, tipping you backward until he was carrying you like a babe out the door. “It’s better optics this way, anyhow.” he explained.
“Well done, Miss Beaumont!” you heard Jerry call out his delayed praise and you gave him a silly little salute, noticing that a wobbly Miss Peabody had been left to descend the stairs under her own feeble power.
You felt drunk despite the fresh night air, and a little sick at heart, barely keeping your head above the dark flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm you. When you started to shiver in his arms you were certain you did not merely imagine the brief press of his cheek to your clammy forehead. The amount of calm that momentary gesture gave you caused much inward concern that you had become dependent on these little tendernesses of his and subsequently, you were to be forever bent out of shape when he was cruel. You saw no remedy for it save to bind him to you so as never to be deprived of either evermore.
The after dinner throng had crowded out on the balconies to watch the fireflies fill the night sky, and the sight of your blood soaked form being carried forward by Captain Presley caused quite an uproar amongst them. Those patrons who seemed more familiar with the captain inquired with genuine alarm if all was well, and he replied to all inquiries with assurances that were as polite as they were terse. It reminded you of the first night you had met him, the magnetism of his authority easily parting the mass of humanity around you.
Once ensconced in what you learned was Jerry’s second floor office, the Captain dispatched staff members to accomplish a dozen different projects, one of them being to bring the magistrate down. “Now get out, I need a word with her before he comes.” He snapped his fingers at the remaining waiter and the door was quickly shut.
Sitting himself down in the armchair beside your own, he pivoted his body to give you the full weight of his attention, something very judicious and little melancholy in his eyes.
“That weren’t the first man you’ve felled, was it?” he said at last in so measured a tone it took a few moments for your brain to process what he had said. “Oh honey,” he went on, the corner of his mouth quirking up, “you might be the greenest virgin of my acquaintance but I know that cold look of experience when it comes to ending a life, and I saw it on you.”
“Green, my eye. I’ll have you know I’ve been kissed before.” you defended, some murderous part of you wishing he’d give you a little credit after what you’d just done.
“T-that’s all you’ve got to say to that?” he laughed, disbelieving.
“No, you’re right, he isn’t the first.”
“Mhmm.” that sobered him right up but he didn’t look remotely disapproving, just pensive. “Well, when that magistrate gets in here I want you silly in panic, you hear me? I want you sobbing and pathetic and dumb as a brick, not so unhinged he puts you in an asylum, just -pitiful enough he accepts the truth without speculation, alright? Don’t worry ‘bout the quality of your performance, you’re good at playing dumb. I should know, you’ve been industriously pulling the wool over my eyes since I met you.”
“You gonna give me the boot after this?” you asked plainly, because that was the one thing on your mind: wether or not you were going to end up back in a Memphis jail cell due to the magistrate’s findings or Captain Presley having had enough of you. You may hav even covered in his seed this morning but you remained a virgin, no honor and no child bound him to you, not really.
“I done told you I’d drop you off on the way back.” he sounded hurt as he misinterpreted you.
You searched his face, the face of a man who spit old Beaumont’s name at you while you were naked and vulnerable and at his mercy this morning, but it was a good face, still. The face of a man who tries to gentle himself, but you think that rather like you, he’s grown weary, lazy and a little cruel. “I don’t want to be dropped off now or then.” you admitted softly.
He cocked his head to the side and his eyes jumped from one of your features to the next, trying to figure you out, trying to keep his own eagerness from betraying him. Because he did look eager, and that soothed you to an impossible degree.
“You wanna stay on?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, for a long while. Long past Memphis.”
“Is there trouble waiting for you in Memphis?” he asked knowingly, and my god he was beautiful in his concern.
“Of a sort.”
“Mhmm.” his hand rubbed at the side of his face and his eyes left yours to watch the door. “Alright, tell me one thing first. That man, or men, you killed -they weren’t sleeping next to ya were they?”
“No sir.” your laugh was a strained little thing.
“Alrighty then.” he repeated with finality. “Settled.”
A silence fell on you both and no matter how long you stared him down he refused to meet your eyes, bejeweled hand jittering out a rhythm on the chair arm.
“Oh!” you exclaimed as the weight in your pocket finally registered, “I near forgot!”
He looked over at you startled until he saw you pull out the little brown tonic bottles and that nagging feeling of irrational anger flared in him again. For fucks sake, not the subject of puking again.
“I was to bring these up to you.” you explain, your sweet little face lit up in eagerness and he wanted to take it and your sweet cheeks between his fingers and squeeze until your lips pucker up and then he would devour you… “I wasn’t about to mention it in front of Miss Peabody so I had to think on my feet, you see. Mr. Black wasn’t actually asking for you.”
You looked very pleased with yourself, and he had just enough of a handle on himself to be half glad you had become confidant enough to display a little smugness in front of him. The other half of him looked forward to the day when you were both comfortable enough for him to seize you as he wished to now, and bend you over his lap and let you know just how he felt about you meddling in his health concerns, disobeying his orders by coming to the top deck and brazenly insulting one of his guests. Something of this feral desire must have shown on his face as your smugness fell away, replaced by something wary, almost pleading. He liked the look of pleading on you almost as much as smugness.
“I’m not keeping you aboard as a damn nursemaid, you hear me?” he felt the need to growl.
“Understood.” you conceded but the bottles remained in your outstretched hand.
“Ain’t my damn mother.”
“Nope.” you agree, “But for the sake of that dear lady and my own hide I intend to keep my-” you searched the ceiling for some inspiration, “-m-my benefactor alive.” you seemed pleased with your word choice.
“Benefactor? I own your ass.” he goaded because you were feisty tonight, had just saved his life and he couldn’t quite stop himself from wanting more of your sharp barbs to cut him up.
“Not what you said this morning.” you snapped at him, “You don’t owe me a damn thing, honey, is what you said.”
“Oh you condescend to remember this morning, do ya?”
“Dont be silly, sir.”
“What did you think of it?”
“I don’t wish to speak of it.”
“Don’t you dare think I’ve forgotten you didn’t obey me.”
“I’ll have you saying, or better yet begging for ‘cock’ if I have to lay you out to do it.”
“It’s vulgar,” you protested, confused as to how he was capable of riling you up when all your life you had maintained a grip of iron on your composure, “the whole thing isn’t seemly to talk of.”
“Like hell, it ain’t!” He scoffed, “You callin’ God vulgar for commanding Adam and Eve to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the whole damn earth with their offspring? In the original Hebrew I bet it sounded closer to a command to fuck like rabbits so they’d have enough kids to keep the kudzu from overtaking the melons.” His little boy smile lit up his face when this made you crack an involuntary grin. When you turned stoic again he went on, “There’s been nothin’ more natural or sacred since the beginning.”
“Sacred suggests something set apart and revered.” you sounded bitter and you didn’t bother to hide it.
“What’s your problem here?” he asked shortly, immediately perceiving your attitude, “-And don’t say it’s nothin’, ain’t anything I hate worse than a woman who mopes about and then denies it. You got a problem with the way I handled you this mornin’?”
“No.” you muttered.
“Good, ‘cause it was you who started the damn thing, and you who kept it going. You’re a little idiot messin’ with a man like that, could get yourself hurt, get a child in ya, you ever thought of that?”
It’s precisely what I want. “Sorry, sir.”
“Now I thought we had a bit of fun this morning, you and I, but now I find you all sour. You want an apology? An award? A separate room? Spill it and I’ll give it to ya, but quit this. I don’t tolerate grown women actin’ like damn brats for no good reason at all.”
“I was just pointing out that what we did could hardly be sacred to you when you flirt and elicit the way you do-“
“-My flirting and eliciting is what puts ham and eggs in your belly and silk sheets beneath your ass!” The force of his sudden scream was so strong it made you worry for the windows, shriveling any fight you had left in you. “There are hundreds of riverboat captains ready to bring me down and I don’t keep ahead of them all by my superior navigation. It’s goddamn entertainment I sell, and you’ve known that since you first stepped aboard.”
“I’m sorry.” you whisper, fight quite gone out of you. You wanted that warm chest beneath your cheek and those soothing little circles on your head again, not this fury made manifest in a beautiful form.
“Speak up, damn it!”
“I am very sorry, captain!” You cleared your throat to enunciate your apology perfectly, terror of pushing him further away spurring you on to your best behavior. “This is new to me, all of it, and like you said I’m a fool, a little fool who appreciates your gentleness and patience. It’s all so very new.”
“I know that,” he grunted, “I know it’s new. And you wanna know something else?”
That thunderous brow began to clear and in that moment you did not care if he were to tell you he was going to start selling unicorns, you were too relieved to see him calming. “What?” you leaned towards him eagerly.
“What I think is -you didn’t finish.” his tongue poked out between his lips and that sensuous little tick alone told you that he was referring to the act undertaken this morning, instead of your abandoned ledgers. “Well honey, did you?”
“I-, I don’t know.” you felt your cheeks heating up again and you were so very tired of such bodily reactions. The bottles suddenly became quite fascinating, you glued your eyes to a label denoting it’s contents to be lobelia laced with laudanum.
“Oh,” he laughed heartily, “oh rosy cheeks, you would know.” and the gleam in his eyes was terrifyingly determined.
“I don’t really know what you’re referring to-“
“You know what happens to young ladies who don’t finish?” he cut you off.
Accepting the inevitable you sighed and answered dully, “No, sir, what happens to them?”
“They turn into absolute harpies.” he replied, giving you a look to suggest this information ought to resonate with you, “Fresh young girls with their firm teats and slick cunts turn into something more shriveled and frigid than their great grandmothers when left untended. It’s a deplorable state of things, and nothing cures it but a good tongue lashing.”
“Well,” you tried your best to laugh off his vulgarity and were pleased at the chance to distract him with wit, “you’ve already given me enough of those to last a lifetime.”
“Mmm, not this kind.” he smirked, and you felt like a tiny rabbit being hunted down in a great forest.
He had leant forward at some point, meeting you partway and the crackling energy between you two, combined with the broiling, blood-drunk hysteria that was now simmering off into something antsy and needy, gave you the overwhelming compulsion to do. Do something. Action, you were in need of action.
You rose form your seat so suddenly he had to bend back in order to save his head. You glanced towards the door and listened for the still absent magistrate. Nothing.
Elvis watched you set two of the bottles down on the desk before turning to him again. He soaked up the sight of you looming over him, the gas lamp giving you a sinister sort of halo, that little gleam in your eye that he had so lovingly stoked this past week blazing away. He had been wanting to see your fiery side, wanting that droll little act of yours to melt away and to uncover the girl he knew you must be beneath for you to have survived all these years. He had not pictured you knifing a man in the throat in defense of him, that was a little too mythic even for his wildest dreams, and he had dreamt some wild dreams of you
Your bloodied hand stretched out, slow but determined, and he felt you take his chin in your hand, tilting his head back slightly and he would have let you knock him flat on his back if it would have pleased you.
Instead you brought the little bottle to your lips and took the cork stopper between your teeth. Uncorked in this manner you brought the bottle back down to his own lips, and tapping on his bottom lip with your forefinger, “Open up.” you said.
Positively drugged on your gentle command he obeyed, eyes blown wide and pink tongue laid bare. You poured the contents into his mouth and he gulped it down with little struggle.
“That’s it.” you whispered, indulging in the pin pricks of stubble beneath your palm, his lush lips glittering wet in the lamplight. “I aim to nurture the life I’ve preserved, Captain.”
You watched as his eye lids fluttered before staying half mast, gaze heavy and a red flush rising in his face. He chased your retreating hand with his mouth, clamping his lips around a pair of your fingers, nibbling at the tips of them. You could feel the cool of the tonic’s alcohol on his tongue.
He had his eyes closed as if savoring the taste of your violence, some devout emotion creasing his brow, his hands slowly raising until they settled high on your hips, as if in a bid to steady himself.
You put your other hand on top of that beautiful head as you had long wished to do, sliding your fingers through silky hair and anchoring him to you, nudging your fingers further into his hot, eager mouth. His wet tongue curled round each digit, cheeks hollowing beneath the shade of his sideburns. God forgive you but you wanted him, wanted that fevered aliveness you felt now to last forever, dragging your fingers along that slick, textured muscle you felt closer, far too close, to owning up to your long suppressed nature.
To be worshiped like this, accepted for your heinous skill and stubborn grit, the blood of the man you killed savored off your fingers, it was an acknowledgment you had been seeking all your life but never knew it. To be seen, truly seen and the hideous sight of your bare soul met unflinchingly by another, that was grace indeed.
The sound of footsteps came to you from far down the hall, it would seem you two were never to be given enough peace to sort out a true and lasting truce. But as you pulled your fingers free, you took care to gently thumb at his lips, knocking off the flakey smear of blood that had remained.
“I thought of something I want.” you whispered, ready to bolt the moment that door opened.
“Name it, little one.” he growled gently against the pads of your fingers, eyes so blue, wide and calm. For once you thought that perhaps this whole deception of yours might have a gentler ending than you had ever dared to hope.
“A pistol, please.”
His teeth clamped tight on your last knuckle briefly before letting you retract it. A string of salvia carried from his mouth to your finger for an indefinite distance. “You got it.” the motion of his promise broke the connection. “I’ll get you the prettiest pistol ever fashioned in these United States -“
The door began to open and you flung yourself into the chair again, inconsolable and shaken beyond belief at the necessity of having to stab a man to death with your favorite letter opener. The gentle magistrate, a portly man whose love of liquor was only surpassed by his love of whores and who viewed Elvis Presley as the Bacchus of the Mississippi, spent more time comforting your shattered nerves than he did asking questions regarding the incident.
Mr. Shilling had informed him of the details in full and the fact that a lady of as much delicacy as yourself had been forced to such measures was proof enough that the dead scoundrel could not be reasoned with.
Captain Presley looked proud as punch over your performance, leaning back against the desk and presiding over the farce with nonchalant authority, his unperturbed brow only creasing when the magistrate’s hands began to soothe your own spit slicked one for a bit too long.
“Miss Beaumont would doubtless like to be free of these spoilt clothes, sir, if you haven’t any more questions?” Captain Presley was the embodiment of geniality towards the man in that moment but his eyes were like a hypnotist’s or one of those vampires from Louisiana folklore, compelling him to his will.
“Oh yes, yes, I have enough for a statement, for certain.” The magistrate took the liberty of patting your cheek, so Captain Presley took the liberty of laying a heavy hand on his shoulder to steer him out the door.
“How about a game of poker, would you do me the honor?” he smiled down at the little fellow and it would seem the appeal of that smirk was universal as you were quickly forgotten. “Goodnight, Rosy Cheeks.” he called back to you as they left, and despite the jeering nickname there was something friendly and warm in his voice.
Mr. Shilling was the one to walk you down to the suite, his calm and quiet presence almost a relief after the whirlwind of the Captain’s attention.
“That was a remarkable thing you did back there.” he said as you made your way down the last hall.
“I’m only sorry it was necessary.” you observed.
“Of course, but to be capable of doing despite that, it’s deserving of approbation.”
“Mr. Shilling,” you decided to try your luck as you came to the door of the suite, unsure if he was referring to your kill or your lying, “it’s not my business but I am curious as to how long the Captain has had to rely on laudanum?”
Without loosing an ounce of his affability Mr. Shilling replied, “You’re right, Miss, it’s not your business.”
You smiled down at your hands, “I killed a man for him tonight, so I thought I’d try my luck and be bold.”
“I don’t discriminate between lucky or unlucky. I just ain’t one to talk.”
“I see.” you studied him and the honesty of his sun tanned face, the captain’s reliance on him becoming understandable, “I have come to entertain the suspicion that there is a conspiracy aboard this boat to keep Captain Presley alive despite his every attempt to thwart that goal. And as it has been determined that I am to remain aboard for an indefinite period, if such an association does not exist than I shall found it, but if it already does, I would like to enroll as a humble foot soldier.”
“That was quite the initiation tonight.” he observed, level as always.
“Yes.” you nodded, “And I mean to go on as I’ve begun, Mr. Shilling.”
“Pleased to hear that, Miss Beaumont -or is it Rosy Cheeks?” was all he replied, looking pleasant as ever
“Goodnight, Mr. Shilling”
“Goodnight,” he smiled. “I wouldn’t wait up for him, first night underway is always ungodly busy.”
Thanks for reading and thanks for your patience! 💋 I love you all and am so thrilled y’all are so invested in this little world I’ve made. Feedback is a writer’s life blood, so don’t be shy. Written on an iPhone and edited by no eyes save my own exhausted ones, so have mercy or let me know where I goofed.
@missmaywemeetagain @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle @yagirlalexx
for one night
vernon x fem. character || smut / fluff / (angst) || 3.4k
warnings: oral (fem. receiving), sex without condom, some substance-use (smoking and drinking), language, talks of breakups
** this is fiction, i.e. a very bad example of sex with someone you don’t know very well. so remember irl: no glove, no love <3
synopsis: a meeting between two strangers at a party, that might have a couple of things in common- a broken heart, and the need for someone to mend it.
a/note: at the end <3 i hope u enjoy!!
Vernon can still feel the bass from the party. He’s out on the balcony from one of the bedrooms, a cigarette between his fingers- a bad habit whenever he got a bit of alcohol in his system. But the night called for it- he needed to get his mind off her. He had hoped that the party alone would take care of that, but the full house and the blaring music actually made him psychically cringe. So, just after arriving and saying a couple of hi’s, he was off seeking the first vacant room- a whiskey at hand, which he had managed to sneak out from the kitchen.
The city-skylights blur behind the smoke of his cigarette, the sound of drunk people yelling and cars honking down on the street below, traveling up to him. It comforts him in some way, something about being alone but not lonely. And as he flicks the last of his cigarette, the volume of the party increases as the bedroom-door slightly opens, a girl slipping into the crack.
She doesn’t seem to notice him as she sits down on the bed, her head between her hands. Her body moves as she cries, evidently a bit distraught to notice her surroundings. He clears his throat lightly, an attempt to not startle her, before stepping back into the bedroom. It seems to work as she straightens her back.
“Oh fuck” her thumbs coming up to wipe her tears, “Sorry, I thought no one was here” she continues, and unsuccessfully tries to hide her face. She’s pretty, Vernon thinks. “No worries” he replies, hand scratching the back of his neck, a bit lost of how to handle the situation, but opting on a simple,
She gives him a small smile at that, everything pointing to her being anything but good. “Yeah, I’m fine” she answers, her sleeve catching a teardrop escaping the corner of her eye. She takes a deep breath “I just really hate loosing beer-pong” she jokingly says, her arms flopping beside her as in pure defeat. Vernon gives a light chuckle, eyeing her a bit, trying to figure out if she wants him to leave or not, but when she gives him a smile again, he chooses to stay. He leans back on the dresser placed against the wall facing the bed, and her.
“I could come up with a couple of other worse things that could happen at a party” he says.
“Like what?” she asks, their conversation seeming to calm her down.
“Like...” his fingers tapping against the surface of the furniture as to think of an answer. He snaps his fingers and points at her when he’s got it, “Someone skipping your queued song” his eyebrows raised.
“Oohh” she reacts, “Very true.” She sniffs a bit, tries to come up with another “Hmm. Stepping on a spilled drink.”
“Good one. Parents being home” he continues.
“People whose constantly on their phone.”
“The guy insisting on playing the acoustic-guitar.” That makes him laugh.
“The day after.”
“What about…” she says before pausing “What about getting dumped?”
He looks at her “So, the truth finally comes out” he says. She avoids his eyes- he takes a seat next to her. “Are you okay?” he asks, her hands playing with the hem of her skirt. “Yeah” her eyes still down on her lap “If anything, I’m more upset that I don’t get to see his dog anymore” she says, while giving him a half-smile and shrug. He returns the same smile, and bumps her knee “I came up with another thing that sucks at parties.”
“The drunk girl crying over a boy.”
“Oh, fuck off” she says, and they both laugh. “But really” he tries again, “You ‘wanna talk about it?”
She looks at him, a complete stranger willing to hear about her sad little break-up story. She stands up and holds out her hand, “Okay, but we’ll take a smoke first.”
The cigarette is long gone by the time she finishes her story, “I just wish I could be alone, but I don’t know how to. And it just results into shitty relationships with shitty guys, who dumps and leaves without a second thought.” Vernon bites his lip, not sure what to say. Both of them are leaning against the railing, looking out. The slow pop-song in the background companied with the view, almost makes it feel like a scene out of a movie.
“Maybe I should just adopt a cat or something” she says after some time, picking at a withered petal from the flower-pot hanging. “Leave the poor cat out of your problems” he says, and she elbows him as she laughs. Her laughter feels like bubbles in a fizzy drink, he finds her very charming. The city lights cast small stars in her eyes, paints her in a purple hue. Vernon feels bad for the poor bastard that lost her.
“What?” she says when he keeps staring at her.
“Nothing” he answers and looks out on the view again, feels a slight flutter in his chest- he bites his lip. She takes the bottle from his hand and takes a sip. A slight shiver run up her spine when a gust of wind passes by, she walks back in.
“What about you?” she asks, feeling a bit vulnerable after sharing. She places the bottle on the dresser and falls back onto the bed. He lies down next to her. “Any relationship problems? I’m better at giving than taking advice” she turns her head to him. He’s quiet, and this time, it’s his hands that’s fiddling. She turns towards him, props her head on her hand, “So it is something.” She pokes him as to urge him to elaborate, “Care to share with the class?” her hand motions to the empty room.
“Uhm, I guess I also recently got out of a relationship” he finally says.
“It’s... complicated” he continues, slightly cringing at the cliché line. “I chased her for a long time” he starts. “She was beautiful, smart, older” his eyebrows raise at the latter, and she laughs. “She was just everything, really. And when she finally caved into my charming ways” he can feel her eyes rolling at him. “I’m not sure if I ever been that happy before. All my earlier relationships couldn’t compare, this was different. I knew it, could feel it with my whole being whenever we were together” he turns to her. She shifts so she’s laying on her front, her cheek resting on her folded hands as she listens to him.
“And for a long time, it was really good. But things slowly shifted. I guess our age-gap just caught up to us, and she would occasionally bring up future plans and wishes. And I remember when I realized. It was like a hole formed in my chest” he pauses. “I knew that I wasn’t ready. That type of responsibility just scared the shit out of me” he draws random shapes with his finger on the bed-sheet between them. “I mean, my mom still does my laundry when she visits, I constantly forget to buy milk, I still go to apartment-parties” she smiles when she sees that he smoothens out the sheet with his hand, as to erase his non-visible doodles.
His own thought of how they were strangers now hit him, heck, he didn’t even know her name, but somehow felt like it was safe to share with her. “So, one day when I got home, she was sat on the couch. And we both knew.” Another pause, his eyebrows furrowed. She takes hold of his hand and looks at him, “You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.”
“No I’m good” he says, and he laces their fingers together. “That same day, she packed and left.”
“That’s it?” she asks.
“Well, no” he smiles, slips his hand from hers to swipe a falling hair-strand behind her ear. He holds her hand again. “I was miserable for months. I was still in love with her, and still had this loyalty to our relationship, thinking maybe one day I would be ready and then she could return and everything would be perfect” he swallows. “But that feeling never came, so I just kinda tried to bury everything and forget” his thumb is softly swiping against hers.
“But last night” he starts “Last night, I get a knock on my door. And there she was. I had imagined that exact scenario countless of times, but right then I was just empty. She wanted to give it another try” he focuses on her chipped nail-polish. “I couldn’t give her an answer, the shock of seeing her again brought back all the memories and feelings, and we both kinda got lost in all of it again” his eyes flicker to hers.
“You slept together?” she asks.
“Yes” and then he moves so he’s sitting against the headboard. “Come here” he says, and motions her to sit up with him. She settles between his legs facing him, and grabs a pillow and holds it to her front, her legs bent on either side of his. “She was gone this morning, and I haven’t been able to text her yet.”
“How do you feel?” her chin is propped onto the pillow.
“I don’t know. I really thought I was still in love with her. But yesterday...” he doesn’t finish his sentence, as if he were to speak the words it would be that much more real. Doesn’t seem to matter, because then she says,
“It felt like closure?”
“Yeah. It did. For me, at least.”
“And... It feels unfamiliar. Today is the first day in a long time that thinking of her doesn’t feel like getting punched in the gut. I guess it’s ‘kinda nice in a way… to not worry about ‘what if’ anymore, you know?”
She nods. Her curiosity pushes her to ask the next question “So does it live up to it’s reputation?”
He laughs a bit, the stage of being somewhat private way passed. “Yeah. It was good… It always had been really good” he answers. She slightly shifts in her seat. “How did it happen?” her eyes flicker to his, as to gauge his reaction to her very blunt questions, he seems unfazed. “Which time?” he tests back, and they both feel the air shift.
“This feels like a bad idea” she says, all of the sudden a bit too aware of the small space between them. “Why? We’re only talking” his hand on her leg, as to prevent her from moving. She eyes him, “Sure.” They look at each-other. And then there’s a silence, he’s circling the scar on her knee with his finger.
It’s late, or really early. The room is dimmed in a soft light from the sky alone, the sun slightly kissing the horizon, waiting for a new day. The party from outside the door has turned down, can still hear a couple of people chatting. And if Vernon really focuses, he can make out an acoustic-guitar somewhere. He smiles. It’s nice, to be here, with her, he thinks.
“What was your first impression of me?” she asks after a while, tries to steer their conversation to a safer topic. He’s amused by her question, finds her obvious attempt cute.
He answers, “I thought that you were pretty. Even with mascara running, so I guess that says something.” She laughs.
“What about now?”
“Well. You’re still very pretty, maybe some slight daddy-issues” he receives a soft hit on his chest for that comment, he grabs her hand and holds it. “But. I also find you funny, reflected.” His other hand runs up and down her leg, “And you have soft skin.” He looks at her; she’s focused on his touch.
“Have you thought about kissing me?” she asks when she looks at him again, given up on trying to stop whatever was happening between them.
“Yes” he answers truthfully, thinking back to when they were standing on the balcony, and then again just moments ago.
“Do you want to kiss me now?”
“Yes” he confirms again. And when she just keeps looking at him, he takes the hint. He takes the pillow from her, and closes the gap between them, pulls her into him. And then he’s kissing her. They shift slightly so she’s straddling him, his hand traveling up her thigh and under her skirt. The tension releases from them, as they deepen their kiss.
He cups her face as he kisses her. He swipes his tongue against her bottom-lip, and gives a small groan when she nibbles his. It feels new, exciting and kind of wrong, which makes it that more exciting. It’s kind of fucked up, he thinks for a moment, but maybe in some twisted way of faith, this was supposed to happen. Both of them, meeting at this party, to start over- but he doubts that’s the case. Either way, his worries are short-lived, because then she’s rolling her hips against him.
“Fuck” he says, both breathless when they pull apart.
“This is really fucking stupid” she says, but then moans into his neck when a roll rubs her clit just right.
“I know” he says, but if he were to be honest, he really didn’t fucking care anymore. His hand moves up her shirt and met with her bare breasts, confirming what the chilly-air showed before. He pushes her slightly back when he cups one of them, and licks and sucks on her nipple. She holds his head against her, hips moving deeper against his. He kisses up her neck again, and holds her face so she focuses on him.
“You sure?” he asks again, gives her a chance to stop, maybe to save both of them from one regret the next day. But she pecks him and says a short “Yes.” And then they’re kissing again, her hands working his jeans and pulls him out. He makes a noise when she releases some of the tension, strokes him firmly. They’re both impatient as he hooks his thumb in her panties, and pulls it away from her slit. He holds his length at the base as he aligns himself with her. With one hand on his shoulder, she sinks down, both of them shuddering.
“Oh fuck” she moans, when he’s sheathed inside her. He kneads her thighs, as he waits for her, his skin growing hot. Her breathing is slightly shaking when he kisses her, his hand massaging her breast. He groans as she clenches when his thumb swipes over her nipple.
“Shit. Can you move for me, love?” he asks her. She nods. She moves up and down slowly a couple of times, before picking up her pace, her hand gripping his shirt. Trying to keep her volume down, knows they’re not alone. He bunches her skirt up her waist, so he can see where they are connected. Swears at the sight. His grips her hips tighter and moves her against his cock. “You’re so good, you feel so good” he says, grows harder when he sees her spaced-expression, lost in the feeling. They fuck each-other like that for a moment, and when her breathing gets heavier, he moves one of his hands to her heat. With his thumb he rubs her clit, she moans as she gets tighter around him. He holds her neck, foreheads pressed together when he speaks, “Come, baby. Wanna feel you come.”
She bites his shoulder as she releases, her body slumping against him as her hips moves slower. But before she’s calmed down, he moves her off him. He twists her body fast, has her own her back and quickly drags of her panties- with no other warning, he has his mouth on her. She slaps the hand not gripping his hair, over her mouth as she moans, her eyes rolling back. His hand is on her lower abdomen, tries to hold her down. His tongue flat against her, as he licks up to her clit, and then flicks the tip in fast motions. With his other hand, he gives her two fingers, and hooks them.
“One more. Please” he hears her beg, making him moan against her, the vibrations going straight to her clit. He gives her one more finger and pushes it inside her- his hand going up and down, hitting her spot each time. Her body responding quick- tightens around his fingers. And when he feels it again, he quickly takes his hand away from her, wants his mouth to be the only reason.
With both of his arms hooked around her thighs, he buries his mouth on her. She taps her fingers fast against his arm as to warn him, and then her body stills before shaking hard. “Oh my god” she moans out, her head turned to the pillow. He licks her clean before moving up, his cock almost uncomfortably hard. “What the fuck was that?” her hand patting his head, her chest flushed. He kisses her, swallows when he feels her wet against him. She slowly strokes his cock. “Poor, baby” she says, runs his head against her slit. “How you want me?” she graces him with the choice, as a favor back.
“Turn around for me?” he asks, and kisses her cheek.
“Okay.” As she moves around, he gets rid of his pants. He’s back on his knees as he strokes himself, amazed with her body. “You’re like really fucking hot” he says matter-of-factly, and she laughs. She stretches her body before him, her ass perked as she wiggles it as to tease him. His hand slapping her, rubs the skin after. She squeals lightly, her knees buckling forward a bit by the hit, but arches back.
He moves her so she’s laying flat against the mattress, and grabs a pillow to raise her hips. He has her legs pressed together, wants her tight. He slips his cock between, her earlier releases making it easy for him to push back in. And this time, he doesn’t tease, he doesn’t wait, he just fucks. She moans into the sheets- her clit rubbing against the pillow. His straddling her from behind, his hands pressing her cheeks together, watches his cock slip in and out. Slaps her ass when she feels extra good around him.
“Fucking shit. Fuck me, baby” she says, in shock of how sex with a stranger is the best yet compared with all of her earlier partners. He then holds onto the headboard, as he fucks her into the mattress. His hips moving hard, feels dizzy with how much he needs to come, hand twisted in her hair.
He then moves so he lays on top of her, and kisses her from behind. His other moves between her and the pillow, and finds her clit. Their position adding pressure to his touch, she moans into his mouth.
“Want you there with me. One more, okay?” he says, wants to feel her tight around him one last time. She only manages to nod, almost drooling on the sheet below. He fucks her fast, feels his release nearing. He rubs her clit faster, “Come now, baby. Fuck, I’m so fucking close. Let me feel you clench for me.” Her hand grabs his side from behind her, her nails sinking into his ass as she comes a final time, her body spent. And with her last clench, Vernon pulls out.
“Holy shit” he says, as he strokes himself, moans as he comes on her back and ass. Can’t help himself as he smears some of his cum between her ass, and then he rests back on his heels. His hand massages her thigh, other running through his hair, both of them trying to catch their breaths. After a moment, she finally moves and he leans over to the nightstand. He opens the drawer, and tries to find some tissue- and then he sits back as he wipes her back, kisses her shoulder when he’s done.
She turns around, and he gives her light pecks. When he pulls away, she’s smiling-
"I guess there’s some perks to being with an older woman.”
“Shut up” he laughs.
She kisses his cheek and moves from under him. He’s sitting on the bed as he watches her get dressed again- runs her fingers through her hair, trying to loosen some of the knots. “Just ‘gonna grab some water” she says and turns to the door. As she grabs the handle, she hears him say,
“I’m Vernon, by the way.” She laughs, and introduces herself. And before she walks out, she turns around and says one more thing-
“Oh, and I’m the host.”
The door shuts, and Vernon falls back to the mattress.
a/note: hello again, to all of u who’s followed my blog! this is my longest fic yet, and something very different from what i’ve written so far! i kinda just started with the idea of a first-meeting, and then it just snowballed into this. it’s a lot more plot than what i normally write, and a lot more dialogue, and i focused more on that, so the smut-part may seem a bit rushed (because it was lmao). but oh well..
i also rewrote this hundreds of times, to the point that i don’t even have an opinion on it anymore, so please leave some feedback <3 i salute every writer who can produce long writings!
missed u all!
Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.
Fandom: The Royal Romance
Pairing: Riley x Liam, featuring Madeleine
Warnings for this chapter: Language, alludes to violence
Word Count: 1,678
A/N: This is from my follower appreciation prompt list/wheel event. This one is from @karahalloway and is for Madeleine x dark x jealousy
My other stuff: Master List.
Two months before the coronation…..
Liam whispered into her ear and Riley giggled as his lips brushed the delicate skin of her neck.
He gazed down at her with that smile that made her want to give him the whole goddamn world.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. As her eyes tracked down his body and then back up to his face, she saw a movement over his shoulder.
Someone was watching them.
Oblivious to it, Liam pulled her body into his, encircling her in his embrace. “I love you, Riley.” He murmured against the shell of her ear before his lips found her neck again.
Riley’s eyes locked with Madeleine’s as the blonde shot daggers at them from a darkened corner of the balcony they had escaped to.
Riley’s fingers dug into the back of Liam’s shoulders as she whispered, “She’s doing it again.”
“Let her watch.” He murmured as his mouth continued its trek down her neck to her shoulder.
She shivered as she let her head fall back and gave in to his request.
A month before the coronation….
Madeleine drummed her fingers on the edge of her champagne glass. Something had to change. She knew what she wanted and failure wasn’t in her vocabulary.
Liam and Riley weren’t even being subtle about it. Giving each suitor an equal chance. What a joke. The two of them were all over each other every chance they got.
She was sick of it.
She knew what she had to do.
“Countess Madeleine, you wanted to see me?”
She glanced up with an inviting smile, “Yes, Duke Lambros, please do sit down. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
“Certainly, but you can call me Tariq.” He said as he took the seat across from her.
“Tariq then. Tell me, how well do you know Lady Riley?”
The ballroom was in pandemonium. Liam couldn’t hear himself think over his parents bellowing in his ear.
“I’m sure given the circumstances, Lady Riley withdraws from the competition.”
“You must choose now, Liam!”
He ignored them.
He knew he’d never be able to get to her in time. Yanking the microphone from his father’s hands he did some bellowing of his own, “Everyone stop!”
The room quietened considerably. The guards that had descended upon Riley stopped and turned toward the stage. Liam knew who they were.
“Alexi. Mikel. Release Lady Riley at once. That is a direct order.”
He watched with satisfaction as both men dropped their grip on her and stepped away. Drake swooped in and stood protectively by her side, his demeanor daring anyone to touch her again.
Drake was a good friend.
“Now I’m ready to make my choice. “ He announced to the room, “I choose Lady Riley Brooks!”
Pandemonium broke out again.
“You can’t!” Madeleine screamed, “The scandal-“
Liam called for quiet and waited until he got it to resume, “I don’t know how those photos were obtained, but I can assure you that the incident in question was very one-sided. Duke Lambros made an inappropriate advance, which was rebuffed.”
“How can you know that for sure, son?” Constantine demanded.
“Because I was there that night, I heard her scream and pulled him off of her.”
“That’s a lie! Drake was the one that-“ Madeleine froze as she realized she had as good as confessed to being the saboteur.
Liam made eye contact with Drake and tipped his head in Madeleine’s direction. Drake nodded and spoke into his com.
While Madeleine was being escorted to his office for questioning, Riley was escorted to the stage where Liam got down on one knee and officially proposed to her.
After his coronation was complete, he and Riley joined Drake and Bastien in his office.
“Tell us why,” Bastien said.
“Did you want Liam and the crown so badly you were willing to set up an innocent woman?” Drake asked.
“You think I did this because I want Liam?” Madeleine stared back and forth between them in astonishment.
Three months before the coronation….
“Truth or dare?” Max asked.
“Truth.” Madeleine said primly.
“Have you ever kissed a girl before?”
“What? No! Of course not!” Her face pinkened at the suggestion.
“Why of course not?” Riley asked, “There’s nothing wrong with kissing girls!”
Madeleine was suddenly interested, “You’ve kissed a girl before?”
“I’ve kissed lots of girls!” Riley tittered drunkenly. “Right, Hana?”
Madeleine flushed a deep shade of scarlet, “You’ve kissed Hana?”
Riley and Hana both fell over giggling.
“Yes, she has!” Max snickered, “I can confirm.”
“You….you watched?” Madeleine’s horrified expression sent the rest of the group into a fit of giggles.
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Madi!” Riley told her.
Madeleine watched quietly as the game progressed until it was her turn again.
“Madeleine, truth or dare?” Drake asked.
She had finished off two more glasses of pineapple rum since her last turn and the pleasant buzzing in her head made her feel adventurous, “Dare!” She said confidently.
“Oh, shit, Madi!” Riley tittered, “Never pick dare when Drake’s handing them out unless you want to do sexual things!”
“Go easy on her, Drake,” Max said, “I don’t think she’s ready for your level of dares.”
“Okay, okay,” he responded, “I’ll pick something simple. Madi, I dare you to kiss Riley.”
“Told you.” Riley giggled softly.
“Oh, I….um…okay!” Madeleine replied.
“Okay!” Riley handed her drink to Hana and straddled Madeleine’s lap as the other woman sat cross-legged on the bed. She cupped Madeleine’s face with both hands and tipped her face up.
Madeleine’s powder blue eyes flicked from Riley’s eyes to her lips and back again as she nervously licked her lips.
“Do I make you nervous?” Riley asked as she ran a thumb gently across the blonde’s bottom lip.
“N…no.” Madeleine lied.
Riley lowered her mouth to Madeleine’s and gently parted her lips with her tongue.
Madeleine melted into the kiss.
Her world shattered into a million pieces then the pieces reassembled themselves….differently.
Nothing mattered but the taste of cherry lip gloss and the sweet, warm caress of a pair of velvety soft hands on her face.
Riley pulled away with a grin and then fell beside her on the mattress with breathless giggles.
Madeleine felt bereft. An aching loneliness filled her and all she wanted was Riley’s lips on hers again.
“Damn that kiss was hot.” Drake said standing up, “It’s late, I need to get back to my room.”
“I’ll bet you do!” Max chortled.
“We should probably all get back to our rooms.” Hana agreed, reaching for Riley’s hand.
She took it and Hana pulled her up from the bed.
Madeleine watched as Riley and Hana walked off together, arms around each other’s waists, giggling and whispering loudly to each other while they made their way down the hall.
She felt something unfamiliar stir in her chest as she wondered if Riley was going to kiss Hana again. Was she going to do other things with Hana? Things that she wanted Riley to do with her! It wasn’t fair.
The sensation in her chest intensified. It hurt. It made it hard to breathe.
Hana had to go.
A week before the coronation…..
“What do you mean you have to leave?” Riley demanded.
“I mean my parents have called me back home.” Hana was in tears.
“But why? The season isn’t over yet!”
“I…I don’t honestly know! They said they’ve received disturbing reports about my behavior!”
“Oh, Hana, no! I’m so sorry!”
Madeleine watched discreetly from the other side of the room, a mixture of satisfaction that her anonymous email, complete with photos of Riley and Hana, had worked and burning jealously at the way Riley wrapped her arms around the smaller woman in comfort.
The glass in Madeleine’s hand shattered, “Shit!” She exclaimed as blood dripped onto her dress.
“Wait, you did all this because you want Riley?” Liam stared at her in disbelief.
“She belongs with me! Don’t you see it, Riley? You can’t marry Liam because of the scandal, you’re free now! We can be together, me and you!”
“No.” Liam shook his head, still reeling from the revelation that Madeleine was completely unhinged. “Riley belongs with me! She’s in love with me and we are getting married!”
“She kissed me, Liam!”
“In a drunken game of truth or dare!” Astonishment spilled through him at Madeleine’s level of intensity as she glared at him.
“Liam,” Riley touched his arm, “Is the scandal going to be a problem?”
“No, we can get Tariq to come forward,” Liam said.
Madeleine snorted. “That’s not going to happen!”
“Why not?” He asked.
“Do you think he should have been allowed to live after what he did?” She hissed, her eyes narrowing.
“What you sent him to do, you mean?” Drake asked.
“I sent him to get fake incriminating photos, not try to fucking assault her! You should have beaten him to death when you pulled him off of her, but since you didn’t, someone had to finish the job!”
Liam jolted, “Wait…are you….are you saying that Tariq’s dead? And that you killed him?”
Some semblance of sanity finally took hold and Madeleine demanded a lawyer before clamping her lips together and refusing to speak.
Madeleine’s tear filled eyes found Riley as Liam escorted her from the room.
“I did it for you, Riley, for us! You have to believe me! I love you!”
Riley turned back toward her with a myriad of emotions in her eyes, “I’m sorry if I did anything to lead you on, Madeleine, but I’m in love with Liam!”
“No!” Madeleine choked out through her sobs, “No! No! No!”
She watched Riley turn and walk out the door with Liam. It closed behind them leaving her alone with Bastien and Drake.
“I want a lawyer! Call my father!” She demanded.
She had to get out of this predicament. Her father would know what to do. She had to be free.
Madeleine had shit to do.
Liam had to go.
crunchyroll & rail
the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !
SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.
WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not…
MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality,
RATING m (18+)
NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….
Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.
Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.
In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.
To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.
He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”
Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.
Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.
You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”
Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”
“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”
It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.
You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.
And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.
Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.
(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)
Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.
You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.
Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.
Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.
The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.
You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.
But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.
(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)
The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.
According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.
You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”
You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”
You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.
Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”
For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.
“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.
He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.
“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.
“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.
You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.
The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.
The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.
Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.
And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.
Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.
They go like this:
Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.
“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.
In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.
“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.
It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.
Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.
The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.
His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.
“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”
He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.
The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.
“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.
“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.
But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.
Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”
Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“
“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.
“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“
“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.
His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.
There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”
Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”
Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”
A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”
You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—
The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.
“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.
Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.
Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”
“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”
It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.
“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.
Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.
“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.
He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.
Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.
“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.
It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.
It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”
You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”
He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.
“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.
Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”
The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.
It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.
Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.
You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.
Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.
Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.
In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.
Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?
“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.
“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.
His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.
It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.
Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.
You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.
With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.
You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.
“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.
He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.
Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.
You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.
It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”
You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.
Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?
Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.
“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.
Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”
“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.
Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.
It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.
Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.
“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“
“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.
You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.
He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”
Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”
You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.
“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.
He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.
“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.
True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.
You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.
It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”
“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.
Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”
Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.
That’s how you know he’s a keeper.
It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.
“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”
Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”
You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”
A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.
You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.
Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
Summary: It might be the end of the day but the reader wants to give Jensen one last gift...
Pairing: Jensen x reader
Square: Jensen’s Birthday
Word Count: 1,100ish
Warnings: language, smut
A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo
“Good evening Mr. Ackles,” you said, opening the door to the garage. Jensen stopped and stood by his car, a backpack slung over his shoulders. “Nightcap reservation for two?”
“What are you wearing?” he giggled, walking again and sliding into the house, kicking off his sneakers. “Is that a cocktail dress?”
“How was work? Care for a glass of the house speciality?” you said, taking his bag and hand, leading him down the hall into the kitchen.
“I’m exhausted but it was fun. Glad I’m directing again,” he said, catching the clock. “You know technically it’s not my birthday anymore.”
“Technically you’re getting more than birthday breakfast with the kids for your day,” you said, Jensen humming and washing up at the sink.
“But I thought I got all my presents already,” he said.
“Well you have one last one to unwrap,” you said. “Or should I say undress.”
He walked over, looking you up and down with a smirk. You took his hand and headed upstairs, going quietly down the hall to your bedroom, tossing his backpack in the closet once inside. He shut the bedroom door behind himself and locked it, stepping up behind you, resting his hands on your hips.
“Can I make a request?” he murmured, kissing your neck.
“Of course. Whatever the birthday boy wants.” You turned, reaching up for him to pull him in close, smashing your lips together.
“You can say no to this,” he said, lips against yours. “We’ve never…done this before.”
That caught your attention and you smiled, leaning back and nodding. He bit his bottom lip, a light flush to his cheeks. You tried to wrack your brain for what he could be thinking that you hadn’t done before but then his eyes glanced to the balcony door.
“You want to have sex outside?” you asked.
“We don’t have to. I just thought, you know, we got the lights up out there and if we put a blanket down on the big lounger…it’s pretty private. I seriously doubt anyone could see if they wanted to. But if-”
“Sounds romantic,” you said. “One sec.”
You ducked down the hall to the big closet, grabbing an oversized blanket and tucking it under your arm, returning and walking outside with Jensen. He helped you toss it over the seat, making sure it was clean before he flipped on the dim lights and was reaching for you again.
“Where do you want me?” you breathed out between hot kisses, Jensen far less tired than when he walked in the door.
“On top of me,” he mumbled.
“My favorite place,” you teased. You reached down and undid his belt and zipper, helping him out of his pants as he pulled down the zipper on the back of your dress. He was nearly naked by the time it slipped off of you, his eyes lighting up when he saw what was underneath. “Like what you see?”
“You wear that pretty blue lace for me?” he said. You stretched up on your tiptoes, spinning around and letting him catch the see through back. “Damn girl.”
“It comes in crotchless too,” you smirked, his tongue practically drooling. “I’ll have to pick up a pair. Now get naked so I can ride you.”
“You’re so perfect,” he hummed, finishing undressing as you got closer. You let him slowly peel off the underwear and undo the bra, Jensen humming as it hit the wood decking below. “You got little goosebumps on you. Are you sure it’s not too cool out here?”
“I’ll warm up soon.” You pushed a gentle hand on his chest, walking him backwards until he was sitting back in the chair. You straddled him and kissed him soft and sweet, Jensen quickly diving his tongue into your mouth, pushing and pulling and you knew what he wanted. You reached between yourselves, pumping his cock a few times before it was at full mast. He groaned, a soft sleepy echo in it and you smiled, lining him up and taking just the head of his cock inside your folds. You waited a breath and slid down another inch, waiting another and sliding one more. Jensen growled, eyes dark.
“The birthday boy doesn’t want to be teased,” he said quietly. You leaned in close, lips brushing his ear.
“If you want a hard fuck then all you gotta do is ask,” you whispered, nipping his jaw as you leaned back. You winked at him and sat back, Jensen’s hands flying to your hips and yanking you down. It knocked the air out of your lungs, Jensen smiling, waiting only for you to catch your breath before he was lifting you up and pulling you back down.
Your thighs got in line with his pace finally and you were quickly covered in sweat, your insides tightening, squeezing, a pressure building up when his cock hit your g-spot.
“You gonna get there? You gonna come on just my cock?” panted Jensen. You squeezed your eyes shut, blood pumping in your ears. You weren’t sure. It’d never happened and not for a lack of trying. But then again you’d never fucked at this angle before either. Or outside. The pressure in your belly swelled up, legs burning, fingers digging into your skin sure to leave bruises in the morning.
You screamed as a powerfully deep orgasm rolled through you, walls squeezing Jensen like a vice. He kept you moving and he came instantly, throwing a hand over your mouth when he realized you were announcing your orgasm to the neighborhood. You dropped your head onto his shoulder and shivered, his hands on your face forcing you to look at him.
“Hey, hey, honey. You okay?” he asked, wiping the sweat out of your face.
“I came on just your cock,” you laughed. “Fucking Hell. It was like when you make me come on just your fingers but so, so much more.”
“It sounded it,” he breathed out. You both panted for a moment, the night air starting to make you cool. “We better get inside before you catch a cold.”
He stood up with you, carrying you into the bathroom to clean up, exiting to pick up the things you left outside. He tossed them in the corner of the bedroom, the two of you making it back to bed on shaky legs.
“How was that birthday boy?” you said, turning your head.
“He enjoyed that very much,” chuckled Jensen. “Thank you for the birthday present Y/N. Love you.”
“Love you too, Jay.”
𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬
𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
You'd waited all night to give Damian the first kiss of the year, so why were you stalling now?
✭ 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫!𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧, 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
✭ 𝟷,𝟶𝟻𝟾 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬
✭ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟.
✭ 𝐚/𝐧: which is more embarrassing, promising this blurb and not posting it or actually posting but 10 days after it was actually supposed to be? happy first week of the year lmao. I'd like to mention english isn't actually my first language, in case any of this makes no sense
It was half past eleven.
An almost violent—and frankly disrespectful—mix of expensive perfumes, colognes and alcohol surrounded you as you swiveled around the people in the room. Some of them vaguely familiar faces from the quick glances and waves you'd give and receive as you passed each other down the academy halls while others stayed unrecognizable, as some weren't classmates but rather acquainted with Damian and Adriano—the only friend of Damian's from his social circle.
You'd left him sitting on one of the swings back at the garden once Adriano had sat down with him, a two liter bottle of soda in his hands being passed to Damian as you attempted to get out of your own head.
When you found Damian again it was out in the balcony, leaning against the railing on his elbow, a wine glass filled with soda and the bottle balancing precariously on the railing. The breeze blowing was sharp, Damian’s nose and cheeks rosy under its cold.
You were only slightly shivering, whether the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach was from the cold or the nerves laid unclear.
You slouched on the couch on the side across to Damian, "No, you dont get it, im sure it broke," You said with a somewhat frantic smile, but you weren’t really looking at Damian, instead staring out at the mass of lights from the city, waving your hands around as you explained, "It just fucking fell, and the thud sounded real bad, so i kneel to look at it closer and the whole frame just fucking cracked."
Damian looked at you his glass still raised to his lips, slightly raising a brow yet still looking serene. He set the glass on the railing.
You look at him and shrug, "I panicked and I ran," you snorted, "I don't cost half as much. I'm not paying for a frame."
There was a small pause. Damian had set aside his empty glass, leaning iver the railing on his back now, arms crossed over his chest.
"Did you really come all the way out here, to indirectly tell me, I'll be the one paying what is probably thousands for a painting I've likely never even seen?"
"Uh, yeah," You snort, "Mayyybe."
Damian rolls his eyes, although there was no real annoyance behind it. It’s all just for show. Always is.
He runs a hand through his hair, his curls frizzy at the contact as he looks back at you, serene. You give them a smile.
It was close to midnight now.
You look back out at the panorama again. The sky pitch black, and for the first time in what may have been years there are actually stars in it, littered all over it like glitter.
You look at him, actually take your time to study him, following every beauty mark, the shape of his plump lips, every wrinkle and fold in his clothes. It wasn't anything special or interesting, a dress shirt in muted tones, but as long as Damian wore it, it would stand out over the rest.
Again, nothing too interesting, really, but it was him. They wore it and therefore it stood out. For the first time that night you actually take you time to study them, really look at them, following every beauty mark, to the shape of his lips, every wrinkle and fold on their clothes.
You actually look him in the eye, "Thanks for making time to come tonight."
"I was scared I'd have to spend my time alone with all these other people– I mean, seriously, who are these people?"
Damian hummed, "I don't really know most of them, either."
"No," Damian moved towards you, taking a seat besides you, his arm draped over the back of the couch. He looked at you with half a smile, "You're waiting for midnight, aren't you?"
It took you a few seconds, but you remembered. You were waiting for a midnight kiss. At midnight, of course.
A corny and stupid thing that you finally had a chance to do.
Damian chuckled, looking towards the city to spare you of any more embarrassment. You side eyed him, still struggling to hold back a smile. This was serious, it wasn't funny, at all. Right.
Actually, it was probably awkward, more for you than for Damian. Nothing seemed to be akward for him, like, ever. At least not in moments like that, were their pretty smile stretched over his face and revealed his dimples, taking you back to the mole on his lip that you didn't like to look away from.
It was midnight.
You actually laughed, then, running a hand down your face and making Damian look at you, amused.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, "Oh my God."
"Well, you wanted a kiss."
You turned to him, "I've rethought it," You joked, "I don’t want it anymore."
You kept giving him a sheepish look, as if to ask for help.
He looked at you incredulously and snorted.
You looked at each other, another stretch of silence. Damian stared expectantly.
The smile you had didn't drop, but it was definitely more shy then with Damian’s eyes never leaving you.
"At the pace you're going the sun will have already risen."
It was your turn to roll your eyes. You moved to lay on his shoulder instead and somehow it felt worse as you had to look directly into his eyes, and yet much more exciting.
Your lips shivered again as another laugh threatened to leave you, but this time you actually pressed your lips to his before it happened. It was tender, all the yearning and adoration spilling out of your lips, at the risk of sounding melodramatic.
It felt magical. It wasn’t, it was just a kiss. But it was a kiss with Damian, one you'd craved for too long and finally got.
You felt the tickle of Damian’s slightly calloused hands on your jaw, before moving to the back of your neck and bringing you as close as one could.
When you separated, he was smiling at you, joy beaming on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. It wasn’t long before he was the one pulling you back in for another.
How Luffy reacts when you suddenly run towards him for a hug
Genre: fluff, could be read as platonic
Pairing: monkey d. luffy x g/n reader
Type: headcannon turned into oneshot because i couldn't stop myself
(a/n: this is my first work on this blog so please excuse all the grammar and spelling mistakes 😭 i know there's plenty of these kind of works but i wanted to put my own rendition to it, hope you enjoy!)
- lets out a little yelp but slowly wraps his arms around you, giggling softly
- the first time you did it he might have accidentally gomu gomu no you to the sea, but he apologises after by letting you hug him as much as you wanted
- we can all agree that luffy's love language is physical touch, so he has no problems when you come running towards him with your arms open.
- once you've done it enough times, he'll be prepared for it and might even attack you first when you least expect it.
"Luffy! Where are you?" you yelled from the front of the ship as you noticed a certain captain not at his usual seat. The Thousand Sunny gave off an evening hue as the sun began to set on the horizon, emitting tinges of red and orange. It was nearing dinner time and yet, despite the ship's cozy size, your captain was nowhere to be seen.
"Not here either.." you muttered as you checked the kitchen for what seemed like the umpteenth time.
"Hey y/n, dinner is almost ready. Could you help call the others for me?" Sanji calls out to you, his focus on the stove unwavering. Letting out a hum in response, you sauntered around the ship, calling out to your crewmates for dinner.
You were about to give up on finding your captain when you hear a sudden yell and two stretchy arms wrapping around your waist. Looking up to the foremast, there stood a rubber man grinning cheekily, snickering behind his strawhat. Before you could process what was happening, said rubber man flew towards you at full speed, causing both of you to tumble and hit a stray barrel on the grass deck. Landing on your bottom, you glanced at your captain who was hovering over you, donning the same cheeky smile you absolutely adored.
"That surprised me captain. You win this time round," letting out a small huff, you smiled softly at your dear captain; you could never really stay mad at him. His eyes lit up as he jumped to his feet, darting around in triumph. A series of yippees' and woos' echoed throughout the deck before it was cut off by a door slamming open.
"Oi Luffy! Y/n! Dinner is already served and I cooked your favourites! Better come eat them before they disappear!" Sanji yelled from the kitchen entrance, the commotion behind him getting progressively noisier.
"Ah, that's right! Let's go! Let's go!" stretching one arm to grab your hand, Luffy reaches for the balcony's handle as he yet again hurls the both of you towards the dining area.
You watched with an amused look as he almost bumps into Sanji, uttering a half-assed apology before rushing to his seat. Scuttering to your own seat as well, you peered at your captain's jovial face. Huh, you could get used to this.
(a/n: i have no idea how is this going to turn out but i just decided to go for it. feedback is greatly appreciated. stay safe and hydrated everyone! take care <3)
Summary: You were Alfie Solomons little sister and Tommy Shelby's ex girlfriend.
It had been three years since you last saw your ex. Until your brother sent you on a mission to kill Father Hughes and you came face to face with Thomas Shelby, causing old feelings to resurface again.
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: Language, mentions of a miscarriage
"Good morning, Miss Solomons." Anna greeted as you walked downstairs.
You looked up to find the housekeeper currently dusting one of the many bookshelves in the house, giving you a friendly smile.
"Good morning, Anna. And please, we've been over this. Call me, Y/N."
Anna just smiled like she always did and you knew she was still going to refer to you as Miss Solomons. She had been doing it for the few last few years, you doubted you could change it any time soon.
"Has the morning paper come in?" You asked, making your way to the kitchen.
She didn't reply straight away as you opened the fridge and grabbed the milk.
"No." She finally answered.
Her voice seemed a little off, almost uncertain causing you to look back over at her as she followed you into the kitchen.
"Are you okay?"
Anna simply nodded, but refused to look at you which was setting off alarm bells in your head.
She walked over to the kitchen table, grabbing a tea towel and subtly moving it to cover something on the table. Frowning in confusion, you put the milk down on the bench and walked across the room towards her, reaching for the tea towel.
"Wait, Miss Solomons." Anna quickly said, grabbing your hand to stop you.
"Anna, what are you hiding?"
She didn't say anything for a moment as she stared at you before looking down at the towel on the table and sighed, letting go of your hand.
"It's this mornings newspaper."
"I thought you said that it hadn't come yet." You responded sceptically.
Why would she lie about the newspaper? If she wanted to read it first, that wasn't an issue. It was just the newspaper, you didn't give a shit.
"Why did you lie?" You asked, looking at her, but she was just staring at the tea towel, not wanting to meet your eyes. "Anna?"
"Because of the front page." She answered.
"What's on the front page?"
"Not what. Who."
Okay, now you were even more confused. Why did it matter who was on the front page?
You didn't bother asking, you just grabbed the tea towel, shifting it off the paper, but stopped when you saw who was on it.
You stared at the photo for a moment, hating that it was actually a nice photo. Of course it was a nice photo, it was Tommy. He always looked good.
He was standing behind a podium, obviously giving some kind of speech with the headline 'Birmingham's newest Labor MP' written below it.
"I know you and Mr Shelby have a complicated history. I just didn't want you to see it and get upset." Anna said gently from beside you.
She was trying to look out for you. She didn't want to lie, she was just trying to protect you.
"Thank you. That's very kind of you, but I'm okay." You reassured, walking back over to the milk to make your morning coffee.
Anna didn't say anything else after that, disappearing out the kitchen to continue her dusting.
You poured yourself a cup of coffee and grabbed the newspaper off the table before you made your way back up stairs to the main living room. Cyril was fast asleep on the couch, snoring softly as you walked past, opening the doors to the small balcony before taking a seat outside.
You stared out at the ocean, the sun slowly getting higher in the sky as the smell of salt water filled the air. It smelt like home.
Grabbing your coffee you took a sip before looking back at the newspaper, ignoring the front page as you started to flick through. Most of it was boring stuff that you skimmed over, leaving the crossword for your brother which he would end up just asking you to help him with anyway.
By the time you got halfway through the paper, you had forgotten all about the front cover until you turned to the next page and came face to face with Tommy once again.
'Bookmaker from Birmingham turned MP overnight'
Underneath the headline was a close up shot of, Tommy. Even in black and white he was stunning.
However, it was the next photo further down that caught your attention.
It was of the whole Shelby clan. The photo taken as the group were walking down the stairs of Parliament House.
They all had bright big smiles plastered on their faces. Charlie was in Polly's arms, smiling happily despite not knowing what was happening, but it was the baby girl in Tommy's arms that made you stop.
Lizzie Stark had her baby.
Tommy had a daughter now... he had a baby girl.
You couldn't stop yourself from thinking that it could have been you standing beside him. It could've been you with a baby, but it wasn't.
It wasn't you because once again, Tommy, chose the other girl. And it wasn't you because you couldn't keep your own baby alive.
The one thing your body was designed for and you couldn't do it. You couldn't fucking do it. Lizzie got her baby and she got, Tommy. You lost your baby and you lost, Tommy.
How was that even remotely fair?
You didn't even realise that you were crying until your tears dripped onto the paper in your lap, staining the photo.
"Shit." You whispered to yourself, wiping the tears from your eyes.
You sat there, looking down at the paper in your lap. Your coffee now long forgotten as you stared at the baby in Tommy's arms. The tears you had just wiped away were instantly replaced with fresh ones.
Suddenly, a hand reached over your shoulder, taking the newspaper away without a word.
You didn't need to turn around to know that the hand belonged to Alfie. His rings and hairy arm were enough of a give away, but you didn't turn to face him, not wanting him to see the tears in your eyes.
"Anna told me to check on ya. She was worried about you." He said after a few seconds of silence. "Seems like she was right to worry, eh?"
"Anna should mind her own business." You mumbled, staring out at the ocean. "I'm fine."
"Now we both know that ain't true."
You wanted to argue with him, but you knew that it was pointless. Your brother knew you well enough to know that you weren't okay, but you should be.
It had been over a year since you last saw, Tommy. A year since he had tried to kill your fucking brother, a whole year. But, it was even longer since the miscarriage. You should be fine, but it was clear now that you weren't fine.
"How did I ever give someone the power to fuck me up this badly?" You asked, hating how fragile your voice sounded.
Alfie sighed and walked over to the edge of the balcony, leaning against the railing and staring out at the ocean.
"You still love him, right?" He asked, but it sounded like he already knew the answer.
You wanted to say no.
It should be a no.
After everything that had happened between the two of you and after nearly killing your brother, you should fucking hate him... but you couldn't.
You still loved him and you hated yourself for it.
"You're human, kid. Ain't no shame in loving someone." Your brother added.
"I should hate him. Not love him."
"Yeah, maybe. But, those damn blue eyes are hard to resist, ain't they?" Alfie responded, glancing over his shoulder at you as you tried to stop the tears from falling down your face. "Stop."
"Stop what?" You asked, forcing your voice to come out casual.
"That." He said motioning towards your face. "I know you're strong, but you don't gotta pretend to be okay. Not in front of me, kid. Not me."
You didn't say anything to that as you looked down at your hands in your lap. Fiddling with one of your rings before your brother pushed himself away from the railing and walked over to you.
"It's okay to not be okay, Y/N." He said softly, grabbing your shoulder and squeezing it gently.
It had now been over three years since you and Alfie had moved to Margate.
Your brother for the most part, seemed to be enjoying retirement, but you knew he was getting restless and missed being back in London working.
You missed the life too, but at the same time, living on the beach with nobody trying to kill you was a nice change.
"Cyril, c'mon." You called out, whistling as you walked along the beach.
The whistled seemed to catch the dogs attention, his head shooting up and looking over at you before he ran out the water in your direction.
You held your shoes in your hand, towel wrapped around your body while walking bare foot through the sand, Cyril now walking beside you as you made your way back the house.
By the time you got back home, your body was practically dry from the water, although the dog was still soaking wet. You let Cyril through the front door wincing at the pawprints he left behind on the carpet before making your way to your bedroom, changing out of your bikinis and into your usual neat suit.
You finished brushing the knots out your hair and looked at yourself in the mirror. The scar over your left eye always more prominent after being in the salt water.
For a while, you hated the scar.
Your brother always teased that you were just trying to be like him with a scar on your face, but over time, you began to get used to it. It was a part of you now and although it was a reminder of that day in Birmingham, back when Luca's men were trying to kill Arthur, it was also a reminder of how far you've come.
From being that scared little girl in the orphanage to being who you were today. You had come a long way, even if sometimes you couldn't see it.
Suddenly, your bedroom door opened and you spun around, expecting it to be Alfie, although he always knocked so it seemed weird that he just barged straight in. What if you were still changing?
"Miss Solomons." Anna's voice quickly said as you turned to find her in the doorway.
You opened your mouth to greet the housekeeper, but quickly closed it when you saw the panicked expression on her face.
Shit. What had happened? You were only gone for an hour, what could have possibly happened in that time?
"We, uh, we have a guest."
Okay, you were not expecting that.
A guest? You guys rarely had any guests, who the hell could it be? And why did Anna seem worried about said guest?
"Who is-" You began to say before she cut you off.
Suddenly, your entire world came to a screaming halt and you had to grab hold of the wall beside as the name hit you like a train.
Tommy was here.
Why the fuck was he here? He tried to kill your brother last time you saw him... shit, Alfie.
"Where are they?" You questioned, hating how strained your voice now sounded as you pulled your handgun from your shoulder holster inside your suit.
"Upstairs, main room."
You didn't wait for her to say anything else before you rushed out the bedroom and ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, your fingers tightening around the gun.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
Only Love, Only Hate (1/?)
Pairing: Riff x Latina!Reader
Word Count: 2.0k
Part Summary: Y/N is like a second sibling to Bernardo and Maria. She, like Maria, is still trying to get used to life in New York. When she meets the Jet boy Bernardo talks so much about, she doesn’t know how to react.
I rush about my room and skip across the floor as I struggle to slip on my flat.
“Y/N!” My mamá calls from the kitchen just on the other side of the door.
“Coming!” I brush down my dress and look at myself in the mirror.
Maria and I made plans to go to the park today. Everyone goes down there to lay in the grass, Alejandro has his crushed ice cart, and the kids play in the busted fire hydrant. It’s like a volcano.
I swing open my bedroom door to reveal my mom placing scrambled eggs on my little bother’s plate. “¡Buenos días!” I pat my little brother on the head as he shovels eggs into is mouth.
“Buenos días, Mija,” Mamá greets, waving at the empty chair with the spatula. “Sit! I have to be at work in thirty minutes and Mateo has to be over at the Garcia’s place.”
“Lo siento, no time,” I explain as I hurry around the kitchen in search of my purse.
She eyes me as though I have three heads. Following a huff, she sets down the pan on the stovetop and places a hand on her hip. “Where are you heading all speedy?”
“Maria’s!” I announce right as I find my purse on the coat hook beneath my jacket. “Okay, I’ll be home tonight!”
“¡Oye!” Mamá shouts. “¡Detente y dale un beso a tu madre como una buena hija!” (stop and give your mom a kiss like a good daughter)
I huff but comply nonetheless. I shuffle across the room and plant a kiss on her cheek. “¡Adios!” I swing around the table and give a quick peck to Mateo too.
“¡Ten cuidado!” She instructs sternly as I start to climb onto the fire escape. (be careful)
The borough is alive and active in the morning. All of the women on their balconies collecting the laundry, the men marching off to work, and the children playing down below. I skip a few steps on my way down to the Vasquez apartment just a floor down.
“¡Buenos días!” I greet as I climb in from the window in Anita’s sewing room.
“Oh no uh uh, not today!” Anita points at me from her sewing machine.
Upon hearing me, Maria emerges from her bedroom. “Oh good, you’re here!”
“No,” Anita announces, rising from her seat. “Maria is coming with me to the market.”
Maria whines. “But Anita-“
“No, you two stay out all hours of the day and who does Bernardo blame? Me!” She fusses as she removes her apron. “You two can stand to be apart for the afternoon. You will see each other tonight at the dance!”
Maria and I toss our heads back with groans. One of the hottest days of the summer and we’re going to be cooped up in the apartments.
Anita smirks as she peers over at me. “That is, of course, unless Y/N is willing to help us down at the market.”
Maria grins and grips my arm. “It’s not the park, but it’s something!”
“Supongo que vendré…” (I guess I’ll go)
“English only!” Anita tells me for the millionth time.
“Fine! I’ll come,” I repeat. I swear Anita is like the language police.
The market is busier than I’ve ever seen it. Booths for what seems to be miles and the aisles filled with customers. Some know exactly what they’re here for and others are just wandering. Me, I’m wandering a few feet back from Anita, moving slower than a snail from booth to booth. Every now and again she and Maria take turns glancing back at me. Anita does it to make sure I haven’t run off. Maria probably wishes to join me, but Anita doesn’t trust us to not disappear if we’re together.
“Hola Y/N,” old Ms. Pérez greets as I take a look at her jewelry collection.
“Hola,” I sigh.
“Why the long face, niña?” She pouts playfully.
“Maria and I were going to go to the park today but Anita dragged us on errands.”
The woman chuckles. “I bet if you act nicely she’ll let you buy something!”
“I do need a dress for tonight...” I smirk, glancing down the aisle at the dress booth with racks filled with all types.
“I just finished it,” Anita announces as she appears over my shoulder.
My eyes grow wide. “You made me one?!”
She hums, taking a look at Ms. Pérez’s items.
I look to Maria and she nods.
“You’ll love it!” She gushes.
“¿De qué color es?” I ask.
Anita gives me a warning look.
I roll my eyes. “What color is it?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see…” She smirks, amused by my enthusiasm.
“Is it small or nice and flowy? Does it have ruffles?”
She shakes her head, sticking to silence as she keeps her attention locked on the necklaces on the table.
I give up. “Ugh fine! Well, I’m going to go look at the shoes that the Rodriguez have out.” Then, an idea pops into my head. I come up to Anita’s side and practically beg. “Unless you’re willing to lend me one of those fancy pairs I know you have…”
She sighs, reaching into her purse. She pulls out a bill. “Here’s $5. Don’t go crazy!” She instructs sternly.
I jump up and down. “Muchas gracias! You’re the best!”
She hums, not fully convinced as she waves her hand to move me along.
“Can I go too?!” Maria requests eagerly.
Anita huffs, finally looking up at us. She places her hands on her hips. “No, because then you’ll want a pair too and then your brother will whine about how much we spent today.”
“I’ll be right back!” I assure Maria before hurrying off.
The shoes I saw were at the front of the market, just a few yards away. Far enough that I have some freedom, but not too far where Anita can’t see me. This is basically how I live my life in New York, on a leash. What little bits of freedom I’m granted, I accept, arms wide.
I glance back to see if I can still see Anita and Maria as I shuffle through the crowd. Moving against the traffic is no easy task.
Suddenly, I run into a hard surface with a grunt. Okay, that hurt. If it couldn’t get much worse a cool substance runs down my front.
“Oye!” I shout.
I glance down at my dress and brown soda has stained the once pale yellow fabric. Well, there goes this outfit. I glance up to be met with a skinny little white boy starring at my dress wide-eyed.
“Oh geez!” He hisses between his teeth. “I’m sorry! I was just running with some of my guys and-”
“Mira por donde vas gringo!” I shout, my arms flailing. “Mira lo que le hiciste a mi vestido!” (Watch where you’re going gringo! Look what you did to my dress!)
People have since stopped to watch the scene unfold before them.
The boy snickers. “Lo siento señora.”
I narrow my gaze into a glare. He thinks this is funny? “Señorita!” I correct, peering down at the stain developing. “Estúpido,” I mumble to myself.
“Pardon?” He raises his brows, lowering his head to hear it again.
“It’s señorita,” I repeat sharply, not as amused as he is about this.
“Oh, my apologizes!” He snickers, holding up his hands in surrender. “What’s the difference... señorita?”
I raise my left hand revealing I don’t wear a ring. I assume gringos understand motions even though their verbal communication is lacking.
“Oh okay! Gotcha!” He points at my hand as he nods, getting the picture.
My eyes roll as I turn to walk away. “I swear I’m going back to Puerto Rico. I’ve tried America, I’m done! I don’t like it!” I laugh and mutter to myself. “But you’d just love that wouldn’t you gringo.”
Abruptly, the boy appears at my side, following me back to Anita. “Here, let me help you clean that off.”
A quick laugh escapes me. “Ha! No thank you!”
He steps ahead and starts to walk backward in front of me. “Aw come on, I didn’t mean to do it,” he explains. Then, he stops abruptly, causing me to get stuck in place. His brows scrunch together as he studies my face. “Wait, I’ve seen you before… you’re friends with Bernardo aren’t you?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” The words come rushing out and I try to step around him.
His hand slips around my forearm, keeping me from hurrying off. “Sure you do. I’ve seen you walking with him and his girl.”
“Congratulations, you have eyes!” I sass. My sight falls to his hand around me. A thin silver bracelet hangs from his wrist. On it, a pendant of a four leaf clover.
He releases my arm and offers me his hand. “I’m Riff.”
My eyes grow wide and I step back from his cautiously. “You’re Riff?”
It’s now his turn for his eyes to grow wide, but not from worry but in curiosity.
He reaches for me but I dodge it.
“Wait, what’s your name?” Pleadingly, he moves closer as I try to move away.
“Y/N!” Anita’s voice travels.
I glance away from Riff in search of her but to no avail.
“Y/N!” She calls again within the crowd.
“Y/N…” Riff mumbles behind me, causing me to snap my head toward him.
For a moment, we simply stare at one another. He peers down at me with a mix of confusion and curiosity. In my case, all I see is an egotistical, self-righteous, power-hungry boy.
“Adios Riff. Thank you for the coca-cola shower!” I remark sarcastically before I disappear into the crowd.
“Yo! Wait!” He calls, attempting to follow me, but gets stuck behind some people stopped at booths.
As I shuffle through the cluster of people, they stare at my dress. Yes, I know, I look a mess. Within a couple of minutes, I find Anita and Maria.
Anita’s eyes meet mine and then they land on the giant brown stain on my chest down to my skirt. “What happened to you?!” She gasps.
“Aw, your dress!” Maria pouts, pulling at a bit of the fabric to look at it better.
“Some stupid kids,” I huff. “Can we head back?”
Anita nods, slinging an arm across my shoulders to escort me home. “I’ll fix it, promise,” she assures.
The three of us follow the flow of the crowd toward the street. After that whole mess of an interaction, I’m left tired, soaked, and sticky. It doesn’t help that’s so hot so on top of that I’m slightly sweaty. So, that’s Riff. The boy who’s behind all of this commotion and the reason Bernardo can never relax. He’s half the size of Nardo, why does he hold so much power? If Riff and Nardo were put in a ring, fair fight, I have no doubt Nardo would shut him down. I just wish it wasn’t this way, I’ll never understand why we can’t simply coexist.
As we land on the open sidewalk, finally free of the hecticness, I release a sigh of relief. Amongst all of the bodies, there was no air, nothing but the humidity. Now, I can finally breathe. Then again, I don’t think meeting Riff helped with my breathing. He knocked the wind right out of me in more ways than one.
As Anita tries to remember which way is home, my eyes wander the area. That’s when I see him, Riff. Across the street amongst the rubble of what was once the corner store with some of his Jets. His chest rises and falls as his buddies mess around behind him, aware of their leader’s distracted state. He must’ve spotted me before I saw him. He watches so intently as though he’s waiting for something to happen, anticipates it.
“Okay, ready?” I hear Anita ask Maria and me, but I’m too far in a daze to react.
Then, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Y/N? Are you-” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her follow my line of sight to him. Her hand leaves my shoulder and slips around my name. “Come Y/N,” she states urgently.
She starts to guide me away and I follow along, my eyes finding the pavement.
“What’s wrong?” Maria questions as she hurries to catch up.
“Nothing!” Anita is swift to answer.
“Who is that?” Maria presses.
“No one!” Anita huffs.
On impulse, I glance over my shoulder, back to where he was. Sure enough, he’s still watching, waiting. Our eyes meet and a small smirk forms on the edge of his lips.
Another Jet taps Riff on the back and says something to him. Riff nods and for a second he continues to watch me walk away with Anita before reluctantly turning around to follow his boys.
A hint of curiosity is starting to creep up deep inside me. Why me? What is he so enthralled about? There’s so much to ask, so much to question.
Tags: @ilovey0us0 @elarasstardust
Signor Jaehyun - terzo parte
Summary: Signor Jaehyun is a rising threat in organized crime, a new mafia boss, to be exact. As an elite agent, your mission is to bring him to justice. Plot twist: you knew him before he became a criminal. This part brings us to present day and brings us closer to Jaehyun meeting his haebalagi again after three years.
Pairing: NCT Jaehyun x female reader
Genre: Angst, general, spies/secret agents and mafia au
Warning/s: Mention of death-related violence (use of body bag is mentioned once); cursing/mature language; neos being nosy
A/N: Prada Ambassador Jaehyun is the ultimate inspiration for this. That is all. I’m splitting this into multiple parts because I don’t want it to be too long of a read and tbh I’m already putting this off for too long. Hope you enjoy! Check out the original drabble here. Check out parts one and two as well! Check end of post for translations and further notes! See you at the next and hopefully final part of this mafia boss Signor Jaehyun au!
Word count: 5,932
personal copyright © anya-writes-stuff 2022 please do not repost, translate, or claim my work as your own. thank you!
Incheon International Airport – 1045 hours – present day
“Passengers on the 2:30 PM flight from Incheon to Naples, Italy now allowed to proceed to boarding gate 12JH. Please make sure all carry-on bags are weighed accordingly. We repeat, this is the call for passengers going on the Incheon to Naples, Italy flight, please proceed to boarding gate 12JH. Thank you and enjoy your flight.”
Standing from the row of seats in the waiting lounge, you head to the boarding gate. Agent Nakamoto helps with your bags, taking your suitcase and carry-on, but leaving the extra suitcase with you. He whistles what suspiciously sounds like another anime intro, making you roll your eyes at him, thanking your face mask for hiding your smile. Yuta has always had a pleasant disposition, making it highly useful to throw others off the fact that he’s a spy, and he’s not afraid to turn on the charms if necessary. He is also generally happy, which makes you think if he’s doing this job for fun, or if it’s a coping mechanism. He assists you up the escalator leading to international departures, shielding you from the glare of the late morning sun by standing on your right, and subtly giving you a spare burner phone.
“A little presumptuous of them to tell passengers to enjoy their flight, don’t you think?” He asks. “I mean, what if you have a fear of flying, or being in enclosed spaces, or you’re not a big fan of being thousands of miles up in the air with no guarantee of a safe landing?” He’s in a mood because you missed the check-in before leaving for the mission, which means that he’s going to whine and hover for the next month. “Hah. Enjoy your flight. Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’ll be sure to relay your feedback to the cabin crew, Yuta.” You humor him. He winks and this time you give him the full force of your eye roll.
“Agent Suh says he’s picking you up when you arrive in Naples. He’s the last one there before switching out with a different agent.”
“Alright, I’ll look for the friendly giant at the airport then. Bye, oppa.” You grunt, taking the bags from him, and swiftly pocketing the burner phone in your carry-on bag. “See you next month.”
“Not without one last hug. Get in here, you brat.” He says as he pulls you in. “Be careful, okay? I know what’s at stake here.” He looks at you at eye level. “Any time at all that you need to end it, I don’t care if I’m handling shooting practice or a stakeout or watching Spirited Away, call me right away and we’ll get you.”
“I can handle it. Worry about the newbies and look after my family. That’s how you can help me.” Avoidant personality is a highly commendable trait for a spy, but for a person, not so much.
Positano, Italy – 0630 hours
Jaehyun cools down on the balcony of his suite after his morning workout. Dealing with last minute meetings the previous evening left little to be desired for sleep, so he stayed up planning how the week would go and finishing the bottle of whiskey leftover from his dinner.
He turns when he hears someone knocking. He calls out an affirmative, letting in two of his assistants, and a representative from the head of the Positano family.
“Signor, buon giorno,” the representative greets, giving him a once-over, “we are not disturbing your morning, I hope.”
“Va bene.” Jaehyun says.
He nods to the assistants and goes into his ensuite bathroom to freshen up and change to an all-black outfit. He returns to the main room and guides the elder man to his desk. He gives them the main chair, leaning on the desk and waiting for his guest to speak, keeping his eyes trained on the ocean view ahead.
“We hear that you are to fly to Milano next week.”
“You did not go straight there after visiting your home country?”
“No. I wanted to sightsee here for a bit. Should I have forwarded my itinerary?” Jaehyun looks at his guest.
“No, no need. We just wanted to welcome you here. It has been a while since you visited.”
“My apologies. It was a last-minute decision to come here.”
“Ah, signor, you need not explain.” The man pats Jaehyun’s arm. “Do you need anything while you are here?”
“Not that I can think of, signor,” Jaehyun returns the title. “Any news I need to hear about the family?”
“No, dear boy. Everything is going very well. It was a smart move to get into the fashion business as you suggested. Movement of money is going smoothly, and it generated more jobs and thus more members for the family. You prove yourself to be a very good asset.” The man extends his hand that has the family signet. Jaehyun takes it in his left hand to place a quick kiss on the ring. “Do remember to wear your ring when you reach Milano, yes? It is a valuable gift we entrusted to you.”
I’d rather chuck it into the Amalfi Coast, but fine.
“Of course, signor.”
“Good.” The elder man finally rises. “Come to the house for dinner before you leave for the city. We shall have you meet the new ones, some of them are curious to meet you, and my daughter is eager to ask if you will attend the Milano fashion week. She will want, how they say, the scoop.” He laughs and waves off the assistants when he reaches the door. “Ciao, Signor Jeong.”
After a moment, Jaehyun faces his assistants, placing his hands in his pants pockets. Feigning a calm expression, he nods at the taller one, who stands at attention.
“Get me coffee and the morning paper. Call my driver to confirm my schedule for the day. I’ll be down at the lobby by 9 AM.” He flicks a hand in dismissal. The remaining assistant awaits their orders. “Send someone to visit the Positano family, tell them I’ll visit for dinner by the end of the week. Just dinner, no staying for games or drinks. Bring samples of the retail items to be shipped out as gifts.” He receives a bow and is left alone. Exhaling deeply, he opens the main drawer in his desk, taking out the ring mentioned by the elder mafia member. He slips it on, silently observes how it seems to age his hand by a couple years, and swallows past the derision building in his stomach.
Time for Signor Jaehyun to get to work.
Being back in Positano is like being sent back in time. The charming town hasn’t aged a bit. The winding streets look the same, the colorful houses dotting the coastline are as picturesque, and the view of the Amalfi Coast is as breathtaking as it was three years ago. Extending an arm as you drive through the town helps you relax after almost 18 hours of travel, enjoying the fresh air and the way the late morning sun warms you up.
“You missed it, haven’t you?” Johnny asks as he slows down when the road curves downward. “I don’t think I’ve seen you look this peaceful.”
“You should watch me sleep. I’m peaceful that way as well.”
“Hah.” He chuckles. “Welcome back, I guess.”
“It’s good to be back.” You perch your shades on your hair. “For now.”
Arriving at Le Sirenuse hotel in record time, Johnny offers to unload your luggage, telling you to go ahead. You thank him and make your way inside to talk to the hotel manager on shift.
“Ciao, I made arrangements for Signorina Sole Lee.”
“Ah si, ciao signorina, welcome to Positano.” The elderly woman greets you. “Reservation of a suite for one guest for one week, correct?”
“Buono. Let me get your room key and I will assist you to your room. One moment please.”
“You’ll be fine from here?” Johnny asks when he arrives with your bags and then he hands you the car keys and his phone.
“Yep. I got it, thanks.” You pocket the keys and phone. “Any other friends in the area or you’re the welcome party?”
“Kai will replace me as the point person from the agency. I heard two newly initiated agents might be deployed here as well.”
“It’s almost as if Teacher Lee wants me surrounded. One agent is enough.”
“Maybe he wants to let them get field experience this early. He trusts you.” He pushes back his hair with his glasses. “This is a nice hotel. I haven’t entered until now.”
You look around the lobby and to the doors leading to the pool. The ocean is within sight, the crashing waves providing a pleasant ambient noise and sea breeze to fill the open space.
“Signorina, your key is here, but allow us a few more minutes to prepare the suite. We had a late check-out from it, I apologize.”
“Let me guess. Family on vacation?”
“A fellow lone guest, ma’am.”
Which means I’m right on track.
“It can’t be helped. I can wait.” You assure the manager with a smile. Turning to Johnny, you nod to him in thanks, and he turns to leave. “See you on the other side, Chicago.”
“Bye, haebalagi.” He salutes and walks back towards the town. A car similar to the one he drove arrives just as he reaches the door, Kai waves at you from the driver’s side, and you nod in acknowledgement. They drive off after waving goodbye to you.
Johnny’s phone chimes in your dress pocket, but you ignore it. Yuta should be able to override the morning check-in for you. You texted him with the burner phone he gave you that you arrived safely, and he acknowledged with several emojis.
Sighing in annoyance, you look around to make sure you’re alone, and head to a blind spot near the comfort rooms. Quickly doing the check-in, you return just as the manager does, and she calls a staff member to help you with your bags. Leading you to the suite, she gives you a complimentary welcome tour and wishes you a good stay. Plopping down on the small couch by the window, you enjoy the view the agency paid a hefty sum for. Getting it wasn’t supposed to be tough, but a certain agent wanted to be thorough and all.
“You want a suite with a sunset view?” Doyoung asked.
“Yep.” You requested a suite facing the ocean, specifically one with a clear sunset view, placing it on the southwest corner of the hotel. “It’s a corner room, meaning it has an automatic blind spot on the door, so I’m safe from getting tracked. It also means a quick escape if necessary. I can easily climb down the side of the hotel, and it’s a short but safe drop to the rock ledge below. It’s close to a small dock as well.”
“Have you visited this hotel already? You seem too familiar with the layout.”
“I had a mission in the area before, when I knew I was returning there for this mission, I did my research.”
“Alright. I’ll have Jungwoo forward your request when it’s morning in Italy. I’ll approve the budget as well, but we’ll shoulder the hotel fees so we can get you the room as soon as possible.”
“Okay, thanks Agent Kim.”
“It’s not our department, but this will still need my approval, so I need to ask,” he tapped a finger on the last item on your procurement request form, “you’ll be pulling out the contents of your locker?”
“All of it?”
“And you need it for the mission?”
“Yes, Doyoung, I need them for the mission.”
Doyoung met your stare. He’s hardly intimidated, but he’s one of the few department heads who wasn’t privy to your mission before entering the agency. He opted not to know, and he never felt the need to pry.
“Okay, Agent. I’ll sign off on this as well and personally hand it over to Agent Kun at procurement before close of business day.” He rearranged the forms before sliding them back in the folder. “Good luck on your mission, Agent 219.”
“Thank you, Agent 201.” You left immediately. Nodding to Jungwoo, you walked to the express elevator leading to the living quarters, swiping your badge when you entered the elevator. Swiping it again when you reached the right floor, you unbuttoned your blazer and draped it over your head as you walked to your room. Entering your room, you got a change of clothes and went through your evening routine, looking forward to sleeping the whole day away.
“Sunsets are too beautiful to behold, don’t you think?” Jaehyun muses.
“You just like them better because it means the day is ending.”
“Okay, that too,” he agrees, “but there’s something about the way they seem to bathe everything in a fiery glow. And the changing of the colors in the sky. It never gets old.”
Jaehyun lets out a deep laugh at that, lightly shoving your arm, making you lose your balance on the balcony railing. You push him back, but he catches your arm and loops it around his waist, drawing you to his side. True enough, the setting sun sets the ocean ablaze, the houses on the cliffs coming to life as the fading light reflects on the windows, and the last few rays lining the horizon in varying shades of red, orange, and pink.
“Beautiful,” Jaehyun exhales softly.
“Beautiful,” you agree.
He cups your face, pinning you with a curious gaze, his thumb tracing your cheek.
“Sei più bella.” He adds in a whisper.
Not realizing you fell asleep, you shake off the memory, getting up to shake off your nerves.
There’s something about sunsets in Italy.
Danger. Regret. Missed chances. Lost loves.
“Let the games begin, Signor Jaehyun.” You say with a promise.
There’s a clear view of the hotel from the pensione Jaehyun stays in while he’s in Positano. He stayed in the hotel when he arrived back from Korea, not wanting to get back to work right away, but the visit from the head of the local family ended that little break. He notices that there’s a new guest in the room he stayed in, and he watches the silhouette pace the room before they sit on the desk with their back to the balcony. The figure turns to face the ocean, perching their legs on the chair and resting their arms on their knees. It’s a strikingly similar manner to how you’d sit when you unwind for the day, and Jaehyun has that spark of hope that you’ve found your way back to Italy.
“Let the games begin, bella,” Jaehyun promises as he swaps the signet for the simple ring that he always brings with him. “I’ll see you soon, amore.”
Meetings in Positano and the surrounding areas occupy the next couple of days for Jaehyun. Over the three years he’s been with the mafia, he built a network with local retailers and small exporters. He acted as the middleman between Asian and European markets using the fashion retail and export trade as a front. It was effective, unassuming, and it generated money quickly for both parties. It meant he got a big cut for himself and his team while still meeting the needs (and other demands) of staying in the mafia’s good graces. He now has a small loyal network within the local area of Positano and Naples, all the way up to Milan and Rome, and he has a solid following back in Seoul. He is eyeing the US market next, especially with getting invited to the fashion event of the season, the Milano Fashion Week.
Jaehyun lets his team take over closing the new business deal after he wraps up a late lunch meeting. Exiting the host’s humble home, he gets into the car waiting for him, happy to get some relief from the perpetual summer heat. He loves being in the area, but even he can admit there’s such a thing as getting too much sun. He checks his remaining schedules on the built-in monitor on the passenger side headrest, reaching in his pocket for his phone, quickly replying to some emails and messages. Sicheng enters the front passenger side, Chaeyoung joins him in the backseat, and Taeyong completes the crew via the driver’s seat.
“All set, boss man. I’m surprised you entertained small talk today.” Taeyong recites as he cracks his knuckles.
“It’s a new partner, Taeyong. We must be friendly.” Jaehyun replies.
“Positano’s it boy the charming Signor Jeong closes another deal.” Chaeyoung comments as she secures her seatbelt.
“He doesn’t like that nickname.” Sicheng adds.
“Which one, it boy or charming?” The only lady of the team replies. “Or would he prefer Valentine boy?”
“Enough chatter.” Jaehyun says with finality.
“Where next, boss?” Sicheng asks.
“Back to the pensione for now. My next schedule is a dinner meeting with the tailors in the area.”
Jaehyun rolls down his window to get some fresh air, prompting the others to do the same after Sicheng turns off the aircon. A collective hum goes through the team as Taeyong drives. As they pass by La Sirenuse on the uphill road to their lodging, Jaehyun peeks into the hotel lobby, observing and catching a glimpse of the doors leading to the pool area. Sicheng meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, silently asking if they will make a stop, and Jaehyun shakes his head. He ignores the pang in his chest in trying not to relive the memories associated with the hotel.
On your third day back in the coastal town, you’ve made inquiries in the area to confirm the intel your contact sent over, along with indulging in being a tourist and revisiting your favorite spots. You have lunch at a family-owned canteen near the docks, pleased that they have the same menu, so you feast on a generous serving of fresh pasta with scampi, basil, and olive oil. They give you fruits in season with ice and condensed milk for dessert and invite you back for biscotti and espresso when you have time. You promise to claim it before you leave for Milan.
Walking back to the hotel, you take out your film camera to take some pictures of the scenery. Part of the personal items you pulled out of your locker are your film cameras, some film rolls yet to be processed and scanned, journals you kept from your time in therapy, pictures of your parents and Minhyung, and a family heirloom passed onto you for safekeeping. The old school items Agent Na mentioned are LP records, an old version of the agency’s tasers, rulers and mechanical pencils for drawing and drafting, a Swiss knife, a set of tools for picking locks. Agent Kun was impressed with your choices, baffling Agents Doyoung, Jaemin, and Yukhei. Kun explained that for the nature of the mission, it’s better to carry fewer and less flashier tools. You’re already a highly capable and formidable agent, weapons are merely accessories for you. Besides, you need to prepare in other aspects, but the only ones who know that are Yuta and Minhyung. Even if your brother isn’t supposed to know about the mission.
“Three years after jilting him, you’re going to show up to try and take him down for good?” Yuta asked after you accepted the mission from Teacher Lee.
“You jilted him,” air quotations included, “and you asked me to make sure to never put you in this situation again. Why are you deliberately putting yourself in the line of fire? You’re not even going to lie to him when you see him?” He paced the living room in your parent’s home while waving his hands around to expel his confusion. “Hey, ex-lover, remember how I left years ago and broke your heart so I can save your ass? Hi, it’s me, and I’m here to personally bring you to justice, yay!”
“I don’t sound like that.” You scowled at your handler.
“Noona, aren’t you kind of shooting yourself in the foot here? Are you sure about this?”
“I’m the only one who’ll be able to get him to listen, Minhyung. He will be mad and bitter, yes, but I can make him realize his wrongs.” A loud scoff from your handler made you flip him off. You didn’t have to look up to know he did it too. “I understand the danger I’m getting into; I’ll handle it.”
“Or he’ll handle it and gladly ship you back to us in a body bag, and that’s if he’s feeling generous.” Yuta sneered.
“He won’t hurt you, won’t he? He won’t let the mafia get to you?” Minhyung asked. He takes deep breaths as taught by his therapist. You took his hands in yours and matched his breathing. After he calmed down, he took one last breath and nodded. “I trust you, noona. You have your reasons for doing this. And you’re right. Yoonoh-hyung will listen to you.”
“He’ll always be either Yoonoh or Jaehyun-hyung to me. I don’t care for this criminal he’s turned into.”
Yuta put a hand on Minhyung’s arm to get him to relax. Minhyung still harbored anger with Jaehyun, but deep down he wished for you two to get back together, especially after he remembered that you could have died in his place three years ago had Minhyung cracked under the interrogation and revealed how you knew Jaehyun. Minhyung may have respected Jaehyun, but his love for you was always going to outweigh everything else.
“Just know we’ll have to disclose the mission and your career to your parents if you get killed in action.” Yuta reminded you.
“I’ll lose a sister and a brother. I’m pretty sure Jaehyun-hyung would rather follow you literally anywhere if you ever get hurt because of him.” Minhyung added.
You looked between the two, grateful that at least in this life, you had two brothers who had your back. Regardless of your avoidant personality and stellar stubbornness.
“If there’s a next life and I meet you both, I hope you’re the ones who get stuck as siblings and I’m the one getting adopted into the family.” You offered.
“Yeah, yeah, we love you too.” Yuta rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Come home safe, noona.” Minhyung turned his hands so he could hold yours properly. “Come home with Jaehyun-hyung. Or just go with him this time. Go and live happily with him, even if you’ll be on the run forever.”
“Tempting, but no. I’d rather be with him after we put this all behind us. We can all live happily together.” You ruffled your brother’s hair. “I promise you, Minhyungie. We’ll get it right this time.”
After a few more minutes with the calming view, you reach the hotel, feigning surprise when you see Agent Kai at the lobby. You walk back to your room with him in tow, leaving your bag on the desk by the balcony doors, and he joins you in watching the ocean.
“We secured your invitation to the events, your lodging, and transportation while you’re in Milan.”
“Huh. How come budgeting gets approved faster here?”
“Teacher Lee approved it himself. He didn’t want you to worry about anything else during the mission.”
“And that feeds the rumors that I’m his favorite.” You roll your eyes and chuckle.
“You’re competent, reliable, and you have a success rate of 99%. Of course, you’d be a favorite at any agency. You would never compromise to succeed.” Kai reminds you.
“And look where it got me.” You meet his gaze. “Anyway. Will I be on my own in Milan?”
“I can accompany you if you’d like. But I have a feeling you’d work better alone.”
“I almost expected you’d let the newbies fend for themselves and follow me.”
“They’re here to train under me while I’m assigned here. I’m here until the end of the year.”
You turn when you hear a knock on your door. You and Kai exchange looks. You’re sure no one recognized you while you were out, and that there aren’t any suspicious looking characters before going to your room. Leaving Kai, he turns to face the door before reaching for the gun behind him, and you get the letter opener from the desk. Peeking into the peephole, you see a hotel bellboy holding a bouquet of flowers waiting outside.
You mutter a quick curse and keep the armed hand behind you when you open the door.
“Ciao, signorina. We have flowers courtesy of the hotel as complimentary gifts during your stay.”
“How thoughtful. And what a curious choice of flowers.”
“Ah, it is inspired by your name, signorina. Sole means sun in Italian, and these are grisoles.”
“I see. Grazie.” Quickly tossing the letter opener to the floor, you receive the flowers with both arms, nodding at the bellboy before using your elbow to close the door. Staring at the sunflowers, you check for a card, or anything that might be disguised as a camera or a microphone. After deeming it as a normal bouquet, you get the abandoned letter opener, walking back to the office desk and placing both items on it.
“Do you think it’s from him?” Kai quietly comments.
You don’t think. You know.
Jaehyun knows you’re back.
The next week is a mad rush of preparing for the event of the season. Milan is always bustling with life, but the fashion week puts everyone in a frenzy of excitement and busyness, and it’s easy to get swept up in everything.
Jaehyun finalizes business deals and meetings while he’s in the city. He met with the families in Naples and Positano on his last night there, and now he’s meeting the family heads from Rome, Milan, and representatives from his team in Seoul. It’s a packed schedule all the way to the weekend, which is when he’ll make his appearance at one of the shows, Prada’s Spring and Summer collection. It’s the biggest deal he’s made since joining the mafia, and it will be his ticket to getting into other parts of the global market. It means an even bigger cut for him and his team and will help him save up more than enough to secure his future once he’s ready to flee.
Sicheng and Chaeyoung usher him back to his hotel room once his lunch meeting is over. He has a window of two hours to rest, but he’s just going over more contracts and deals during that time. Taeyong puts down his espresso for him, swapping it for the phone and tablet that Jaehyun hands over, which are secured in the room’s safe.
“No time for even a short nap, Jaehyun?” Sicheng asks as he stands by the window to observe the chaos on the street. News people are starting to converge outside, eager to see the prominent guests for the fashion week, eager to get the gossip and news about everyone.
“No rest for the wicked, as the saying goes.” Jaehyun tiredly says.
“Make sure to finish tonight’s meeting early then. At least get more than three hours of sleep so you can get by.” Taeyong suggests.
“We’re meeting the Prada team tonight. That’s a no to an early night.” Chaeyoung chirps from where she’s picking outfits for Jaehyun.
Jaehyun can feel a migraine forming, so he flicks a hand and the three gather in front of him right away. An irritable Jaehyun is one thing, but a tired and irritable Jaehyun is a whole other problem.
“What’s the schedule looking like?” He asks.
“There’s a fitting for your sponsored outfits for the show along with filming schedules of short interviews and the like to promote the event.” Chaeyoung says.
“Later at 4 PM this afternoon.”
“The event itself is at 3 PM Italy time on Saturday. You’re expected for the pre-show at 2:30 PM, and the show itself will have a dinner and after-party for VIP.” Taeyong speaks up next.
“I’m expected to attend?”
“You’re graciously invited to attend, yes.” Taeyong corrects him.
“Touring the Prada store and Fondazione the day after the show.” Sicheng wraps up.
“Okay. Will there be press for that?”
“Just some from their team. Some blog or website content, most likely.”
Jaehyun bends his neck from side to side. He leaves the documents next to his espresso before standing to go over to the windows. Without showing his face to the people below, he watches them crowd the hotel entrance, finding it amusing yet infuriating that he’s going to deal with this and count it as work. Raising a hand to his neck, he toys with the chain he wears, gripping the golden band at the end of it as he takes it out. Putting on a calm face, he faces his team, chain hanging for them to see. His left hand makes it way to his chest, showing the signet and prompting the others to stand at attention.
“Take a break for now. I’ll be ready half an hour before we have the fitting. Come back when the Prada team arrives.”
“Signor.” They say in unison. They do as they’re told, Chaeyoung shutting the door quietly behind her, leaving Jaehyun alone.
Heaving a sigh, he plops on his back on the bed, the chain and golden band settling right on his heart. He chokes out a pained laugh when he remembers your parting words. He truly can’t regret everything that’s happened since he decided to turn to a life of crime. He had every right to be angry at you for breaking his heart, but you enabled him to stand by his choices and he’s had to live with it since then.
He can’t wait to prove you wrong when you cross paths again. He didn’t lose when you left him. He lost when he fell for you. He lost when he opened his heart to you, only for you to break it to protect him.
How does it feel to be on opposing sides of the game? He muses.
“Fucking sucks.” He answers himself.
Fashion. You think with disdain.
You adjust the sad excuse for a crop top for the nth time and raise the skirt to cover your midriff. You’re grateful that you don’t have too many items on because the heat from all the lights inside the venue is stifling. Haven’t they heard of proper ventilation? What’s the point of being in a country with breathtaking views if they’re just going to pack people like sardines and make them suffer? You tuck your purse under one arm and make your way to the other side of the venue to get some air.
You observe the crowd, unfazed by the celebrities and other prominent people in attendance, you’re not here for them. Nursing a glass of wine, you scan the crowd for anyone from Jaehyun’s team, better yet for the man himself. You had been on your guard since getting the sunflowers, but you’re banking on the small chance that it was truly from the hotel. Kai inspected it and he didn’t see anything suspicious about it either. Shaking off the nerves, you walk past another celebrity being interviewed, escaping to the restrooms. Arriving at the small lounge, you lean on the counter to wait a bit before queuing inside the ladies’ room. Tossing back the wine, you leave it on the counter and prepare to go in just as a slender girl exits. She smiles as she holds the door open for you.
“Good luck in there. Looks like every woman in the venue is making the most of the standing fans provided.”
“I’m this close to barging into the men’s room and getting this over with. The other restrooms are sure to be packed as well and they’re all the way on the other side of the venue.”
“Tell you what, go check if there’s anyone in the men’s room, I’ll stand guard outside until you’re done.”
“Shit, really?” You clutch your skirt to control your urge to make a run for it.
“Really. I know how uncomfortable you’re feeling.” She winks as she guides you to the door to your left. Casting a quick look around, you open it and check if there are any male guests, thanking your lucky stars that there’s none. “Go on, babe, make it quick.” She nudges you inside and you lock the door right away. You go about your business quickly, freshening up while you’re at it, and rush back to the door. Turning the lock, you pull it open, but it’s pulled shut again. Looking up sharply, you try to listen if the girl is still outside.
“I told you this door’s acting up, go look for another restroom. I’m so sorry.” You hear her explain to whoever’s outside.
“I’m not about to venture through this heat and this crowd to look for another restroom, Chaeyoung. Move.”
You start to panic when you recognize the voice. Your eyes roam the comfort room, checking if there’s a stall or a corner you can hide in, but there’s just the small supply closet on the wall to your left. She grunts as Jaehyun lightly grips her arm to move her. The door is pushed open, Chaeyoung tries to peek inside to see if you’re still there but meets Jaehyun’s eyes when he glances back.
You take a deep breath and duck your head as you slip past him when he pushes the door wide open. He curses as you bump shoulders with him, too irate to look at you properly, and Chaeyoung tries not to cheer when you rush past her. She waves at you when she sees you make it across the room. You wave back and follow the guests heading to the exits.
Sending a quick text to Kai and Yuta, you run a hand through your hair to break up the amount of product in it, putting it into a messy updo. Checking the time, you can go back to your hotel, change into casual clothes, then head to the after-party venue. You had a pass to the after-party, but you won’t be able to join the VIP area since you’re counted as part of the press. You don't want to risk a stand-off when you see Jaehyun or his team, so it’d be best to show up again in a crowded place.
“Or I can just go to sleep and try again tomorrow.” You mutter to yourself. Deciding to do just that, you take out your keys and walk over to your Vespa. Placing your purse into the back compartment, you change your formal shoes for casual sneakers, and put on your helmet. Zooming off into the night, you hear the press call the attention of the people exiting the venue, and you try not to look back when you recognize the name being called the loudest. You wish you had the same attitude as your brother, but you could never separate the Yoonoh you knew from the man he is now, because you caused that change to happen. That will always be one of your biggest failures as a spy and as a person, and you will have to learn to live with it.
Sei più bella - you’re more beautiful (Italian)
Amore - love (Italian)
Sole - sun (Italian)
Buono - good (Italian)
Signorina - miss (Italian)
Ciao - hi/bye depending on use (Italian)
Buon giorno - good morning (Italian)
Va bene - it’s fine (Italian)
Grisoles - sunflower (Italian)
Grazie - thank you (Italian)
Haebalagi - sunflower (Korean)
Sakura - cherry/spring blosson (Korean/Japanese)
Pensione is like a bed and breakfast usually run by families. They’re pretty much like airbnb.
Yes, reader’s outfit is very much inspired by Emilie Goldblum’s outfit during the Prada SS 23 show.
Le Sirenuse is an actual hotel in Positano. I am in no way affiliated with them, and using it as a venue for this fic is purely for reference purposes.