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twinklelilstarkey · 1 year

Text

Tutor: Control

Words: 5.6k+ Type: Angst & Smut Summary: It's the day after the fight, and you've been avoiding Rafe, so, he decides to take matters into his hands. Warnings: Fem!Reader. Arguing/fighting. A lot of crying. Overthinking. SMUT [risk of getting caught, as always, and kind of teasing each other for it; piv; no protection (she takes the pill); on the softer side; fluffy at the end].

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

“So, you think we should talk to her now?” One of the girls asks.

The girls all sit around in the living room comfortably. Some are on the couch, others on the floor to make a perfect circle. Kristy holds her mug close, warming her hands while listening to their words and questions.

“Not now.” She says.

“Why not now?” Another one of them asks.

“Well, for starters,” Kristy checks her phone mid-sentence, “It is past 10 PM, and I am not about to wake up her parents to go over and talk about this.”

The girls contemplate her words in silence. They stop sitting upright, acting like Kristy destroyed their whole mission of saving you instead of simply delaying it. They look around each other as the TV stays in a soft murmur that fills the room in times like this.

All of the girls are dressed in their pajamas, as tonight had been a plan to sleep over at Kristy’s home since her parents are off the island. It used to be something that all of them always did as a group, including you.

They could’ve gone to a party instead, and some wished to. Yet, after much talking to the avid partygoers of the island, the girls didn’t exactly like their options for this weekend, especially after hearing what happened yesterday.

“I’m worried for her.” One of the girls breaks the silence.

“We all are.” Kristy tells her.

They contemplate their hypothetical reality, making horrible images pass through them. Those same images always prove every warning they gave you regarding him, and they all end with you hurt in some way - physical or emotional.

“Do you guys know the details of yesterday?” Kristy asks out of nowhere.

They all look around each other in silence until one of them speaks.

“I only heard that it was near the end of the party.” She says, getting the attention of everyone.

Everyone on the island knows how yesterday's party ended and who got taken to the hospital. But truly only a handful of people know what actually happened. Or, better, no one is actually giving out any details about what happened, only the outcome.

“Has anyone talked about how long Aiden needs to stay in the hospital?”

“I don’t think his parents have said anything.”

A little more silence.

“Do you think they’ll press charges?”

“Not if Ward Cameron hears of it. You know how it is…”

Kristy looks at the girls in silence as they speak.

“Nothing happens to people like them.”

“And to think she probably watched the whole thing…” One of them whispers in realization.

“She could’ve been home when it happened.” One of the girls tries to ease the tension. “She never liked parties.”

Kristy doesn’t believe that, but she doesn’t say anything.

On another note, one of the girls does seem to be the most worried of everyone else. She looks around at the gloomy faces, all of them imagining what happened at a kook party, and she can't but feel the same.

“He wouldn’t do anything to hurt…” Another one of the girls whispers but fails to say it out loud, “Right?”

They all look at each other in silence, fearing to answer. Not wanting to seem too negative or too positive. As they all just want to be wrong.

“We’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Kristy says. “As soon as we see her coming into school.”

“But she has been getting in late.”

“Then at lunch.”

“If she wants to have lunch with us.” Another one of them adds bitterly.

Kristy bites her tongue to not say anything, as she seems to be the only one in the group who sees the true reason why you have grown quieter and more distant.

This whole plan was supposed to lead you to them and to talk to them, not the opposite. Not this. The plan wasn't for you to be mistreated by your own friends when you could be in such a sensitive situation.

“We’ll talk to her tomorrow.” Kristy ends the conversation.

(...)

You sigh while turning off the lights in your bathroom and stepping into your room. The room has grown colder than you remember when you stepped out, but you do have your wet hair to blame for the chills.

You go over to your bed, throw your phone onto the covers and turn on the light on your bedside table, illuminating your room ever so slightly. Your phone lights up with a notification, and you stare at it in the distance, not daring to reach for it and simply letting the call go to voicemail.

Letting out a long breath as you walk, you look over at your bookstand, scanning through the options of your night read. Your finger traces the spine of a book as your eyes stay on the next.

A few seconds go by and all you can hear in your bedroom is the whistling of the wind outside, as tonight has to be one of the coldest nights in the past few days.

You cannot choose between two books after much looking around, and as you're about to give up something grabs your attention. It was a sound, a soft one. You look away from your books to look around your empty room. It could’ve been the wood of the furniture cracking, but it sounded like something else.

It could’ve been your parents if only they were awake. They have been asleep for the past hour after telling you about how exhausted they felt. All of it was due to running around about something you did not care to ask about. They were so tired, they didn’t even annoy you too much about spending your Sunday in bed. They just let you do it.

You look back at your books and finally choose a random one. You eye the cover while walking over to your bed, and suddenly freeze when hearing that sound again.

It was a light sound, nothing too loud. And it was something you’ve heard before but can’t exactly understand from where.

As you’re about to take a seat on your bed and ignore it once more, your window opens, startling you.

Your curtains fly with the strong wind, and a figure gets inside your dark room with absolutely no struggle.

He doesn’t say anything when he gets in, he simply turns around to close the window without making much of a sound. You watch your curtains hide him from you as they fly gracefully, and your heart drops.

You do not want to see him, let alone talk to him. But you cannot bring yourself to even open your mouth.

You should’ve expected this. You had been ignoring his calls and his texts all day, especially last night after the party. How had you not seen this coming?

The curtains fall back to the sides of your window as it closes, and he is completely visible to you now. You look at him up and down, watching as his body could move towards you at any second.

His hair is messy and falling into his eyes, and he's wearing a simple striped t-shirt and gray pants. His eyes take a bit to find you, but when they eventually do, he doesn’t move.

You snap awake from whatever trance you were in and shake your head at him.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You tell him in a whisper, so soft he almost didn’t hear you.

Rafe looks at you entirely, not missing an inch of you. He turns, and you can tell that he is upset. He isn’t smiling like he usually is when he sees you. His face is not serious either. It is something different.

“Just give me-”

“No.” You interrupt him. “Leave.”

You two stand quietly, staring at one another in complete silence. Rafe attempts to reach for you, but that only leads you to move further away from him.

“You have to listen to me-” He whispers with you.

“Rafe, I am serious.” You tell him, already feeling your eyes pathetically begin to sting.

“So am I, please,” He pleads, his voice becoming breathier than before. “Just let me talk to you.”

You shake your head at him, and he takes a step towards you.

“You can’t be here.” You tell him. Your voice, in a whisper, sounds shakier, and you hate every bit of it.

He comes closer, and you step back.

“You aren’t picking up my calls-” He starts.

“Because I do not want to talk to you.” You interrupt him, backing away yet again.

Rafe moves closer to you, and you refuse to be near him by taking another step. His face is hidden from your only light, and he continues to move, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Do not do this.” You whisper shakingly at him. “I do not want to see you. And I do not want to talk to you.”

Rafe pauses, faceless due to the lack of light, and you simply stare at him, waiting for him to give up and just abandon your room, leaving you to be in your silence and peace. But he does none of that. He just stands there, watching you with the advantage of the light still lighting your face.

He can see your saddened eyes, and how you are holding yourself back to not cry. He does not wish to leave, nor does he wish to let the silence between the two of you go longer than a day. This is fixable, he knows it is.

“I just want to explain-”

“There is nothing to explain.” You tell him with the most heartbreaking tone on the planet. You stare at him in complete distress, “Nothing could explain yesterday.”

“I’m sorry.” Rafe says quickly.

“I do not want you to apologize, Rafe.” You whisper at him, letting your eyes fill with tears. “He’s in the hospital… Everyone knows about it. Everyone knows how horrible you hurt him.”

“I-”

“Do not say anything.” You plead to him, voice shaking, “I am begging you, don’t.”

He does what you ask him to but he does stay near you. Your tears begin to fall down your cheeks while images of the prior night hit your mind from every direction. Your heart is beginning to race, and you struggle to calm it down.

“God, you can go to jail for this.”

“I won’t.” He tells you, awaiting you to silence him, but you don’t.

You sniffle and bring your hands to your cheeks, cleaning your face of the tears that have been repeatedly wetting your face for the past day. He notices the way you are shaking but stays quiet.

“Just... Why did you have to do it?” You whisper to him, as your eyes come back to his faceless figure.

Rafe hesitates to answer you.

“I get that he is a bad person and that he shouldn’t have said what he did, but you went beyond every… every limit,” You tell him.

Rafe tries to reach for you, but you simply move aside and walk away from him before he can corner you.

“I know,” He tells you while turning around. His face is illuminated now, and it just makes everything so much harder for you. “I’m sorry.”

“I am not the one that you should be apologizing to, Rafe,” You practically sob out your words.

His face twists as if you struck him. He tries to reach for you again, and, this time, you do not move.

“I am not apologizing to him,” He whispers to you.

You stare up at him in disbelief and try to pull away from him, but he is too close to let you escape his space. You breathe out a long breath, and another tear slides down your cheek.

“I lost control. You shouldn’t have seen it-”

“It shouldn’t have happened, Rafe,” You tell him with impatience thick in your tone. Your frown worsens, and you know that you are seconds away from crying your eyes out as you look at him. “You went too far.”

Rafe isn't sure why, but he grows defensive at your words as he says softly, “What he said-”

You send him a glare of pure betrayal, making him tense up and shut up.

“Do not try to justify what you did.” You say, even when lost in tears, with a harsh tone.

“I was trying to protect you… I only fought him because of what he said to you,” He lays his hands on his chest, sounding and looking sincere with his words.

“Aiden’s in the hospital,” Your breath hits his face as you are so close to one another.

He tells you, “I know. But what he did-”

“Do you hear yourself?” You whisper out a yell at him while mentally cursing at the tears that keep on falling. “Rafe, you could’ve killed him! This isn't normal.”

Rafe stares at you in silence, his face beginning to twist with sadness. His eyes stay on you and bites his tongue or tenses his jaw to try and get a hold of himself.

“Was there nothing else you could’ve done?” You ask.

He lets some seconds go by in silence and decides to not answer you. Your eyes disconnect from his and look around the room, trying to find something to ground yourself with. Rafe continues to look down at you, watching you get more and more hurt by the conversation.

“You could’ve ignored him.” You say with a shrug, faking a smile to emphasize your point of how easy the other options were. “You could have simply walked away with me.”

He doesn't answer you, so you continue, “You only proved him right by fighting him. He wanted to piss you off, and you did exactly what he wanted.”

Rafe's eyes fall to the ground, feeling as if he was back to being a small child. And he almost felt like one as he spoke, “He insulted you.”

“You think I don't know that?” You sigh the words. “I just didn’t take much offense to what he said because he was drunk and practically failing to stand straight.”

Rafe looks up and answers you. “I didn't know he was that drunk.”

“You...” You let out a breath, “You shouldn't have fought him...” You await his answer, but he clenches his jaw.

You shake your head at him and try to move away, but he does not let you. He follows your movements, never reaching for you, but stepping to the side and not letting you move. You take a step back again and sigh. He stares down at you.

“You are uncontrollable, Rafe.” You tell him, “You do not fight like a-”

“A normal person?”

“Yes,” You nod. “You fight as if you want to kill a person. And that is not normal. That is… terrifying.”

He watches you closely as your eyes tear up again at the last word. He knows you do not like to be mad at him, but he cannot bring himself to lie to you and say that he understands, because he still does not.

You let out a breath, and it’s so shaky, Rafe could hear it clearly, making him question it to himself. He does not wish to make you afraid of him, of course not. What happened on the night before had been reckless, yes, but he did not... he did not think it had been this bad.

Your cheerless eyes stay on him, and it hurts him to see it. You, someone who is always so sweet and caring towards him, have seen him in a completely different way than what he had always tried to be. He hurt you, of course, he did. Rafe had always promised you that whatever he showed you or wherever he brought you to, you would be safe. Because he would keep you safe. And, after all this time, he was the first person that made you feel unsafe. Not Aiden. Rafe.

All because he could not handle seconds of arguing with a drunk. And in those seconds, he went from being loving towards you to pushing you to the side to fight someone you know. And the only justification he could think of was how Aiden had offended you. He beat him up, and from the flashes of last night, he can't blame you from feeling this way.

Rafe hurt you, and now you are standing before him with shaking hands and a face covered with tears. It is his fault. His own fault. No one else's.

“I'm sorry.” He tells you, even when he knows that you do not wish to hear it. You simply look at him, and your hands come back to wipe away your tears. “You're afraid of me,” He concludes, making you pause.

You scan his face and notice how he tenses up as you stay silent.

“You-” He goes to repeat himself, but you stop him.

“No. I am afraid of what you will do,” You say. “To whoever else crosses you…”

Rafe looks at you, watching as yet another tear falls.

“I can't do it, Rafe.”

His eyes study you as if the words didn't make any sense to him. Your hands wipe the tears away again angrily, and you sniffle before speaking again.

“We can't-” You whisper to him, so, so softly, and with a voice so broken.

“Don't,” He whispers back to you.

You shake your head, feeling the tears come up again. Rafe moves his hand to come closer to you, and you practically jump when it lays over your waist, holding you like he usually does.

“I can't.” You tell him.

“No.” He whispers back at you once more.

“I need to, Rafe.” You tell him, watching as his face changes expression. “I can’t be with you.”

His eyes scan you in a panic, and his mouth opens to say something, failing repeatedly. Only after a few seconds is he able to say something.

“I’ll try-”

You look him in the eyes, pausing him.

“I don’t believe you.” You say to him, voice above a whisper, hurting him further.

Rafe stays silent, and you try to calm down with a very shaky deep breath. He comes closer to you, and you watch him as his face twists in further sadness. “Let me try.” You shake your head, and you see the growing glistening of his eyes, “Please.”

“You will hurt someone else.”

He shakes his head to emphasize his words, “Please, let me try.”

Rafe pulls you close to him as you watch him, and your heart squeezes tightly. You hate this.

“Please.” He whispers breathily. “Please. Just one more chance.” His thumbs caress you over your shirt as he awaits your answer.

“I don’t know.”

“I promise,” He tears up further, and you watch him. “I promise I will do my best, just… Please don’t leave, okay? Please.”

Your hand comes up and lays over his cheek. His skin is familiar, and his warmth is more than inviting. You stare into his eyes and think, even when you know which one would be the right answer for you.

His arms wrap around you, and he pulls you close to him. And for a few seconds, everything pauses, and you aren’t sure what to do.

Your heart is still rapidly beating in your chest, knocking against your rib cage in some sort of panicked song, afraid of what could come next. Not that you don’t trust him. You trust Rafe. But everything in you feels uncertain after yesterday. After what he did. How much he seemed out of his own body, and seeming as someone completely different from who you know as him.

Your fingers caress his cheek as he holds you, and your mind never stops. You have no clue if what you'll do the right thing. Everything tends to feel better with him. But your gut is beginning to tell you otherwise.

How strong can his words of promise be if he gets drunk or high? It isn’t that you even condone him of being any of those things, and you can't help but feel uncertain.

Rafe looks at you, quickly noticing the hesitation and the slight agitation. He knows you aren’t comfortable, and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Tell me.” he whispers softly.

You don’t speak at first, but Rafe doesn’t back away, he simply scans your face for answers.

“I’m scared that you don’t mean it.” Your voice comes in such a faint whisper, you’re scared you might have to repeat the words because he couldn’t hear you.

“I mean it.” He whispers close to your face.

There are some seconds of silence.

“I mean it.” He repeats.

“Swear it.” You whisper, and he nods before saying it.

“I swear it.”

“You promise.”

“I promise.” He repeats after you, leaning close to your touch.

“I’m serious, Rafe,” you pause, and he nods, his eyes still filled with tears.

“I know.”

Your heart squeezes at his tone, and you scan his face for anything that could mean something else. You won’t find it.

“You’ll have to talk to him.” You whisper faintly, eyes half closed. “You’ll make sure everything is fixed with him. You’ll apologize.”

Rafe hesitates, but you hold the back of his head softly.

“You will apologize. Even if he doesn’t accept it…” You whisper to his lips, “Which is fair if he doesn’t.”

“Apologizing won’t do anything.” Rafe whispers back to you, holding you tightly and closer to him.

“It might not.” You shrug, “But it will matter to me.”

Rafe does not say or do anything for a bit, and you know he is fighting it in his head due to how much he does not want to do it. You watch him closely as he stays quiet, practically already knowing the answer that you’ll get just by the way he is looking at you.

Your hand moves over his cheek, which now you notice has a small bruise at the top, and Rafe then finally nods.

“I’ll do it.”

You slowly reach up and kiss him. The kiss is so soft and so loving that Rafe swears that it pulled all the air from his lungs. His arms tighten around you, and you melt against him, missing his touch and his kiss as if you had been separated for longer than a day.

You are led by Rafe to bed, and he takes a seat, bringing you to his lap. His arms let go of you, but his hands grab onto you. He grabs at your exposed thighs, at your waist or hips. And only after some moments, do his hands travel into the inside of your shirt, holding onto your skin and touching it as if it is the first time.

You separate from the kiss, and Rafe pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it to the ground. He then helps you take off yours, which also ends up on the floor. Your lips reconnect, and you’re pulled to lean in closer to him.

The bedroom is so silent, yet, with the new buzzing in your ears, you can’t hear the wind whistling anymore.

The kiss is slowly becoming rougher, and with a simple movement made from your hips, controlled by Rafe’s hands, a small moan comes out of your mouth. Rafe, with it, kisses you harder, and you’re left to try and tell your own body to shut up, due to how risky all of it is.

You two separate again, and Rafe’s lips lift from yours to lay on your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that leads to your shoulders and eventually to your chest. Your long breaths and breathy moans make Rafe’s body react instantly, from his hands grasping onto you tightly to the growing tightness in his pants. All from sounds.

Your hands move from Rafe’s hair to his wide shoulders, grabbing onto him as his warm kisses continue to be displayed all throughout your skin.

With your fingers back through his hair, you pull his head back up and bring your lips back together. The gesture alone made Rafe take hold of your hips again and move you on his lap, causing yet another sound leave your lips.

In the midst of the kiss, you feel Rafe touch the fabric of your underwear on your hips, and you bring your hands down to his lap. He grabs onto you tightly again, and you undo the button and zipper of his pants. With a swift move and with one of his hands away from your hips, Rafe pulls your underwear to the side and touches you.

A sound begins to leave your lips as his finger touches you, and Rafe brings his other hand to the back of your head to make sure you won’t pull away from the kiss, muffling your noises. His wet digits begin to move and reach your clit, worsening the fire beginning to burn at the bottom of your stomach.

Your hands, now laying over his chest, remain agitated, and your hips begin to involuntarily move against Rafe’s fingers. You forcefully pull away from the kiss, and your hands move over to Rafe’s pants again.

He doesn’t stop you, if anything he helps you push down his pants and boxers just enough.

“Come here.” He whispers at you while bringing his hand back to your hip and pulling you upwards on his lap.

You don’t answer verbally, but do it by doing as told. Rafe moves his hand away from your pussy, and helps you align perfectly before you begin to sink into his lap again. Both of you seem to stop breathing, and his cock slides inside you. Your eyes stay on his, as your mouth stays slightly open and his lenched shut.

You sit down, and Rafe can’t help but let out a small groan. Your breathing is heavy and is the only thing you can actually hear now. You peck Rafe’s lips softly, and his arms wrap around you as you do it. The next kiss is the same but longer and impossibly more loving than the one before.

When pulling away, Rafe kisses your neck once and then your shoulder, and his arms relax around you. With your knees on the bed as you straddle him, you begin to move upwards and downwards slowly and, as you do it, Rafe swears he will go insane with the speed you’re choosing to go at. But he remains quiet.

You begin to gain speed after a few movements, and Rafe lets go of you, bringing his arms behind himself to lean back and hold his torso upright. His eyes stay on you, watching as his cock disappears inside of you, and he can see, even in the dim lighting of the room, how wet you are.

Your hands move to his torso, and you feel like you cannot keep looking at Rafe, as his stare is way too intense for a moment where you need to be so quiet. Your nails on his skin bring chills to Rafe, yet all he could do was tense his jaw and stay silent.

As you keep on going, Rafe watches you without ever reaching for you and observes as you grow wetter and wetter with each movement. And the burning at the bottom of your stomachs seems even more intense at the sight of each other.

You can now see how your nails are leaving reddened trails on his skin. Nothing that would leave much of a mark, but, still, something that is getting a reaction from him - much to your amusement.

Rafe lifts one arm as he holds himself with the other, and his hand reaches for your hand on his stomach. He pulls you towards him and that pauses your movements for just a bit. Your lips touch again, and you let out a small sigh. Rafe’s hand moves in between your bodies, and, while in the midst of the kiss, his fingers find your clit.

Caught off guard, you moan against his lips due to how sensitive your body feels, and Rafe smiles at you, ending the kiss. Your hips begin to lift from his lap again, and his hand does not stop, only making it harder for you to keep quiet.

Your eyes are closed, and your faces are still so close to each other, you could practically feel each other's breathing.

The fire of pleasure is beginning to spread all throughout your body, making it harder and harder for you. And all Rafe does as a response is to shush you with his mouth against your own lips.

With it, you try to pull his hand away from you to make this position more doable without a risk of you moaning, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he puts down more pressure into your clit while he circles it, making you pull away from his face and sit back down.

“You want to switch?” Rafe whispers at you as you do so, and you can only shake your head as a response, knowing that if you dare to whisper, the risk of sound doubles.

Your hips continue moving up and down, seeming to take his dick deeper and deeper with absolute no sense. You bite your own lips whenever the pleasure increases due to him hitting a certain spot, and Rafe is left to watch without doing close to nothing.

His finger keeps circling your clit watching as it affects the way you move on top of him. You never seem to leave your rhythm, even when he speeds up as a test. He is sick.

Your thighs begin to burn at the movements, but you refuse to ask to switch positions, even when it sounds like an amazing idea. So, you speed up. Rafe’s fingers stop for just a bit as you do so, and you watch as that seems to affect him now. He can feel the way your pussy clenches around his dick, and he's the one that struggles to not make a sound this time.

He reopens his eyes, and the look he gives you just tells you everything. You just started an entire game.

You know this isn’t ideal given your circumstances and fear of making a sound, but you have to admit, it feels good to do it.

Rafe responds by speeding up his fingers, and that sure does make you pause for a second. Again, you try to pull his hand off, and the fucker thrusts upwards, causing you to let out a quick high pitched squeak. And that does make Rafe stop, probably remembering how much he should not make you moan.

After some seconds to breathe, you lean towards him and push down his chest, making him lay down on the bed. You hover over him, and his other hand is now free to roam your body.

He kisses you as his hand pulls away from your pussy, and both of his hands go over to your ass, squeezing it hard and causing you to whimper against his mouth.

“You need to be quiet, baby. Come on.” He whispers against your lips, holding back his laughter.

And as he says it, he holds you in place and thrusts up into you once. Whatever words you were about to say to him were lost in your mouth, and, for your safety, your hands come up to his chest to you pull yourself upwards.

Whatever teasing smile Rafe had quickly fell due the view he gained from his joking around. As you begin to ride him all over again, Rafe feels the absolute need concentrate.

Your movements are quick right as you start, and Rafe’s hands stay on your thighs as you move. You do your best at not making any sounds, even with possible smacking of skin. Gosh, but it does feel good, even when your thighs are already burning.

Up and down, you continue, and you slide your hands over to your legs, holding onto Rafe’s hands and making sure he does not do anything.

The burning of your body worsens by the seconds, and Rafe’s hands squeezing your flesh is just an indicator that he too is close. You look down as your hands smooth over his muscled arms, starting with his forearms, and you continue to do your best at not moaning.

Your movements get slightly quicker, and Rafe hears you whisper out some sort of curse word as you do it. He wishes he could tease you for it, but he knows damn well that he is no place to do it. With your soft hands over his, gripping onto each other as his dick slides inside of you with ease due to how wet you are, yet so tight at the same time. Rafe swears that he has never focused so hard on a task as this one.

When getting so close to finally coming, you let go of one of Rafe’s hands, and he automatically knows what you want from him. His hand moves over to your clit and does the last needed movements. And your orgasm feels stronger than you would ever expect it to.

Rafe helps you ride it out. Your movements are sloppier as you continue to move, and you finally let yourself breathe. Your breathing is shaky and Rafe could hear the very small whimper after that breath.

When it ends, you slowly lay back down onto Rafe’s chest for a break. He brings the hand he had on your hip to your face, moving your hair back as your hands stay on his arms.

After seconds of silence, you look up at Rafe, lifting a bit off his body and still with him inside you. You know he hasn’t come yet, therefore, your night is nowhere near complete.

You pull at his other hand, the one that had played with your clit all this time, and he watches you as you bring it up to your face to lick a finger at a time. Your eyes stay on his as you do it, and the look he gives you only makes you smile as one of his wet fingers slides over your tongue.

“Fuck you.” He whispers at you before pulling his hand away from you and kissing your smiling mouth, muffling your giggles as he does so.

As you holds you tightly and flips you around, your smile disappears as you know he won't gloss over what you just did.

IT IS FINALLY POSTEEED!!! I PROMISE THAT I AM BACK NOW, I DO. I FINALLY WILL FINISH THIS GOD DAMN STORYYYY.

Hope you liked it <3

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randomshyperson · 1 year

Text

A pinch of paprika | Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: The night when Vision cooks for Wanda end very differently than how it went because you show up to save the dinner (and the girl). | Writing Challenge

Warning: None, it’s pure fluff with teasing and bad jokes.| Words: 1.269k

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

“Wanda, no one dislikes you.”

She would have chuckled at the Synthesized's clumsy attempt to improve her mood - It was kind, after all. - But she didn't get the chance. Another figure was entering the kitchen at the same moment Vision made the comment, and your teasing expression drew a much more sincere smile from her.

"Oh, don't speak for me, Microwave." You told him, only to look at the witch standing at the stove the next moment. "I haven't decided my opinion on that cute little witch yet."

Wanda giggles shyly at the nickname, blushing at the greeting wink you throw her. She doesn't know exactly when you two fell into this playful and comfortable dynamic, she just knows it happened and that she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Or well, maybe she could add something more...

"Hello, Miss Rogers." Vision greets half-heartedly at the sudden arrival. "I did not realize that you were still in the Tower. I figured with the current status of the Accords, you would have joined your brother..."

You waved - cutting him off as if the Robot's questioning mattered little to you. It was true because Wanda had your complete attention. Or, rather, almost, because you seemed quite curious about the pot of food.

"What is this supposed to be?" You ask her with the same tone as before, but now, much closer, enough to press your arms together when you lean in to smell the contents of the pan.

Wanda holds the spoon a little tighter. "Vision was making dinner."

You frown, looking at the robot in surprise. "I thought you couldn't eat, champ."

The machine clears its throat (Or mimics the motion, whichever way it operates).

"I was intending to raise Mrs. Maximoff's spirits." He clarifies by exchanging a look between you and Wanda. "Given the current circumstances, a comfort food should bring, well, comfort."

"Got it." You murmur offering a forced smile to the Synthesized. Wanda has no idea of the jealousy that burns in your chest at having to witness Vision think about this before you can. Screw the Accords for keeping you busy often enough.

The next moment, you taste the food, and your reaction is much more exaggerated than Wanda's, and maybe it's on purpose.

"Dude, whatever it is you tried to do here, it needs an intervention." You sneer and it's mean enough for Wanda to give you a gentle nudge for the robot's expression. You sigh begrudgingly. "Tell you what, Wanda and I will go get some ingredients at the market and you stay away from the stove-"

But just as you make mention of leaving the kitchen, Vision stands in your way. He exchanges a quick glance with Wanda to your confused chuckle.

"I'm afraid this isn't the best idea, Miss Rogers." He starts evidently uncomfortable with the whole thing.

"Dude. what the...?"

"Vision." Interferes with the witch, stepping forward. " Aren't you letting us leave?"

The Synthesized, clearly embarrassed, tries to keep his gaze on you. "I'm very sorry, but those were Mr.Stark's orders. Y/N, you shouldn't even be in the tower, but now that you are, Tony fears that other incidents might happen... It's all to ensure safety-"

The shove throws Vision at least five steps away. He locks his jaw, but you glare at him angrily.

"Get out of my way, Vision." You warn between teeth, raising a finger at the other. "Don't play Stark's butler on me. I'll have your ass unplugged."

With a gentle point toward the Stone on his head, you lower your hand. The Synthesized, though hesitating for a second, eventually steps forward.

"If you want to leave, you have every freedom to do so." He says seriously. "But Miss Maximoff-"

"Comes with me." You cut in, grabbing Wanda's hand with a tug. She gasps softly and holds your wrist with her free one, divided on not causing more trouble or just following you wherever you want. Your expression remains irritated toward the robot. "What kind of fucking attitude is that now, Vision? Betraying your own family and all that bull shit. I thought you cared about Wanda."

Vision's posture breaks, and it is evident that he would have blushed if he could. The Synthesized lowers his head in shame, and you sigh to calm yourself. When you speak again, it is much more tender than before.

"Me and Wanda just get something decent to eat. No trouble, no fuss." You say and move at a slow pace. Vision makes no mention of interfering now, and remains head down. "In the meantime, call Tony and tell him to stop being a dick."

Wanda bites back a laugh, gently pushing you out of the kitchen.

It shouldn't surprise her that you drive her into the garage, nor that you steal - borrow without asking - one of Stark's pickup trucks either. But still, seeing the set of backpacks inside, Wanda has to confirm:

"We're not going to the market, are we?"

You laugh. "Of course not, little witch." You assure her, stepping inside at the same time she does. The garage door opens, and you waste no time in taking the car out through the back of the Compound, the longer way but one that would arouse less suspicion. Splitting your gaze between the road and Wanda, you speak again: "I really thought there was something strange about this quarantine of yours, I had to check it out. Do you really think I was gonna let Tony Stark ground you? Even worse, with a guard dog at the door? Fuck them all. I'm taking you somewhere safe."

"B-but your brother..."

Your hand finds hers. "He will fight his own battles, as always." You retort gently, lacing your fingers over her thigh. "He's always done everything for Bucky, Wands. Nothing is going to change that. And I...I have someone like that now and I understand him. I finally do."

Wanda swallows dryly, shifting her gaze to your joined hands, her heart thumping in her chest. "This someone...you're talking about Natasha, right?"

You burst out laughing so loudly that you almost lose control of the car. Wanda would have slapped you if you weren't holding her hand. "Oh my god, I'm going all Thelma and Louise on you right now and you think I like Natasha? What the fuck..."

"Can you stop the car, please?" She cuts you off, and you grimace.

"We should probably move further away before-"

"I'm going to kiss you, asshole, and I don't want you to crash"

"Oh. Oh... O- okay, sure." You mumble quickly, very flushed. You let go of Wanda's hand only to shift gears, and you've barely parked on the side of the road and she's grabbing the collar of your shirt.

The first kiss you share on the highway exit under the starry New York sky tastes like chicken seasoning.

You and Wanda break into breathless laughter.

"Vision really is a terrible cook." You comment, feeling your stomach fill with nervous butterflies at the way Wanda is staring at you.

She giggles at the comment, helping you wipe some of the smeared lipstick from your lips. "And I'm still starving, detka. Can we get something to eat on the way?"

"Anything for my little witch." You assure with a passionate smile, and Wanda kisses you again before letting you get back to driving.

Many hours later, when Clint finds you guys at one of Natasha’s safe houses, he would pretend not to notice the lipstick marks fading into the collar of your shirt, nor the matching purple marks on Wanda's neck.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen x reader #marvel imagines #wanda maximoff oneshots

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copias-sewer-rat · 6 months

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COPIA'S SEWER RAT RECOMMENDATIONS PT.2

Second part of this recommendations thingy! This time, I tried to expand the recommendations to other areas and platforms. Please go check everyone out! They deserve the best!

previous part | my masterpost

📝WRITING

As always, check the tags and if you are a minor do not interact with +18 fics. All these writers are amazing and deserve so much more recognition, please go read their stuff and follow them!

@ghulehunknown follow also on Ao3 please go read Caught by Papa, Punished by Papa, Cardi Confessions and everything she has written because it is so fucking hot damn!!!!

@dewymorningstar I leave you with their masterlist, please go read their scenarios with the ghouls, they are absolutely adorable.

@youwouldntlietopapa Ao3 CannedBread: Fiore ???!!!! PEEPAW PEEMO WE LOVE YOU!! And all the Secondo ones... oof!! (My Secondo) go read them all pls.

@fishwithtitz I also leave you with their masterlist and Ao3, but please go read The Five Times I Hooked Up with Mary Goore (and the One Time I Couldn't) because I WANT TO EAT THAT FIC like *nom nom* it is so good.

@angellayercake Ao3 Angellayercake GO READ Banchetto, When True Love's Kiss AND The Diary of Cardinal Terzo I ASSURE YOU THEY ARE SOME OF THE BEST THINGS YOU ARE GOING TO READ. (Especially if you love Terzo).

(needed break so Tumblr doesn't freak out on me)

@m0rbidmacabre I leave your with their masterlist BUT PLEASE GO READ THEIR KINKTOBER STUFF and ongoing series, heck, read it all, it is all so good! Check her out!

@themratts I followed them for their art until I realised they had an Ao3???? And I instantly started reading and I fell hard for their OC Alena *gently holds*. Please go read Dear Red Biretta and the rest of the fics for their oc, it is absolutely fueling my days.

@portaltothevoid YOU ARE LOOSING ME? AMAZING FIC THAT YOU SHOULD BE READING?? GO!!!

@deetz-ghuleh is a mastermind???? No Lies is one of my fav fics ever? Secondo yes please? and Reverence??????? *screams so hard she goes to the moon*

@sweatandwoe I found them on Ao3 first and they have so many amazing spicy fics, my personal favs: Blasphemy, Life Eternal and Forever Yours.

@mastercopia I needed to add her because That Little Coffee Shop was the first Ghost fic I ever read and I remember it with such love... But please, go read anything of hers, she is so skilled and talented, you won't be disappointed.

Other platforms (please if these people have a Tumblr or any other social media, please, let me know.)

@/CardenalPlushia on Ao3 and x, lovely ghestie, so creative, go read her Who's Your Daddy? oneshot, please, red-haired freckled CC has my fucking heart.

@/casstayinmyass I found them on Ao3 as well, and there is a user on Tumblr with that name, I am not sure if it is the same because they don't have their Ao3 linked or anything (if anyone knows please let me know and I will edit this). I was recommended one of their fics a while back and I wanted to reread it, I still love it lol: When In Rome (but they have SO MANY GHOST FICS it is insane).

@/SoleraLove on Ao3 also has a fic I wanted to reread: Since Eden in need of hurt/comfort? Go read it asap.

@/Keggy_Chaos on Ao3, if you want a lengthy Ghost fic, go read Stay and Burn, you'll love it.

@/luciferscowgirl on x and Wattpad, another dear ghestie that has amazing Copia nsfw fics, go check her out!

🎨ART

I am in love with all these beautiful artists, please go follow them all and support them with likes and reblogs, they all deserve it!)

@sillyandquiteawkward

@kiselwp

@kamonart (I LOVE THEIR ART SO MUCH OMG THE LIGHT? SHADES? THE FACES??? MMMMMMMMM LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE)

@tasty-ribz

@starbats13

@bazlk

@here-under-blasphemy

@ryuzatodraws-backup

@caturrday

@lorocomonkey

@vannpz

@kai-andrew-art

@lemonemlyn

@spengsart

@cogslys

@ghestie-nun

@brihemoth

@swedish-meatballs

@caelo-jpg

@themratts (again because I love their OC art so very much)

@samdunn aka the amazingly talented artist behind so many official ghirts designs (insane stuff, so talented!!!)

lastly, a mention to my dearest ghestie @/lilchopin1 on x because I adore her and her art is so cute and nice and I love her so very much, go check her out! (AND HER COVERS ARE ALSO BEAUTIFUL PLEASE I ADORE HER)

* COMICS

@panthermouthh please go read The Descent, it is incredible!

@quaildoodle LAST TIME I FORGOR TO MENTION HER COMIC IN WHICH SHE INTRODUCED HER OC SISTER KATYA (she can step on me pls I beg)

👻OTHERS

* GIFs - Do you want to see your favourite Papas/ghouls moving, shaking their ass and being horny on main? Follow these lovely creators who us such beautiful gifts (pun intended)

@xpapaemeritus

@copias-juicebox

@inghostveritas

@cardi-c

@conjuring-ghouls

@ghoulymadge

* MORE RECOMMENDATIONS

@ghuleh-recs you want more fics to read? Go follow! GO GO GO GO GO GO!!!

@sergeantangel EVEN MORE RECOMMENDATIONS!! A LOT OF THEM ACTUALLY! GO FOLLOW!

@resin-popia - an amazing project of our dear cardi, the dedication that goes into it is insane, be sure to follow because it is insane and gorgeous!

@/conclaviconterzo or CnClaviCnTerzo; another of my dear x ghesties she posts there and on tiktok and she is SO FUNNY, please check her out for unhinged Ghost content!

THAT'S IT FOR NOW, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU KNOW OF MORE CREATORS THAT DESERVE MORE RECOGNITION OR IF YOU WOULD LIKE FOR ME TO CHECK YOUR STUFF FOR FUTURE ENTRIES! (I am planning on expanding this to more areas such as cosplayers and interesting profiles on other platforms, so please let me know your fav Ghost related content creators!)

#gonst #the band ghost #ghost #the band ghost bc #ghost bc band #recommendation post #sewer rat recommends #amazing creators #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #ghost bc #ghost band #papa emeritus iii #papa terzo #papa secondo

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amyriadofleaves · 3 months

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outside it starts to pour — neuvillette | chapter six

synopsis: in the limelight of fontaine, the prying eyes of its people never truly tears their gaze off the iudex and you, the présidence du conseil d'état, which makes for baseless rumours to fester and echo throughout the theatrics of opera. you and neuvillette are challenged by the reputations the both of you are expected to uphold, and the weighty decision to navigate these intricacies rests upon the discerning judgement of fontaine's archon.

{ prev. } ; { nav } ; { next }

ao3 : wattpad ˚　.˚　　

⌗ pairing : neuvillette x fem!reader ⌗ feat : neuvillette, reader, charlotte ⌗ warnings : n/a ⌗ word count: 4.8k

A subordinate of whom you do not recognise leaves a copy of the latest news on your desk and you do not pay it any mind until your lips leave your teacup of Fonta.

A MOST ROMANTIC SIGHT OF FONTAINE’S MOST INFLUENTIAL COUPLE SHATTERED BY THE BURSTING OF THE FOUNTAIN OF LUCINE!

You cannot say you are surprised; such a reaction was to be anticipated. The events of last night were far from ordinary, and the ring adorning your finger gleams in the sunlight streaming like bands through the blinds, affirming the reality of it all.

“An official report of this has been issued. Of whom do you wish to appoint this case to?”

“Why, myself of course,” you say primly, intonation insinuating the end of your phrase — but you take in a sharpened breath to continue. “Unless the Chief Justice — my fiance, might I add — wishes to accompany me. And if that ever so happens you may scribble his name of contribution in a footnote.”

The boy takes a hesitant step forward. “But, Madame, we have fresh graduates awaiting a job to take up. Wouldn't it be easier to have them do the work for you?”

You tut. “Oh, but that just won’t do. Doing the ‘work for me’, young man, does not mean doing the work effectively. I am not partial to cleaning up after my… protégés, if you will.” Another sip of your Fonta seems to shush any questions he might beg, and he complies, leaving you alone in your office.

And he’s left the door ajar. Pity.

As you stand, your chair scrapes against the marble and you wince. I should call for someone to replace the rubber padding of the legs, you note, rolling the tabloid into a scroll.

Though your stride is fast and your heels click a little too loudly for anyone’s comfort, you steal some time to skim through the newspaper.

A monochrome print of your outfit from yesterday makes a statement in a tiny corner of the paper you hold in your hands, and you almost smile. So people do like me! Perhaps it is your own self critique, but the words on the street after the Poisson incident were nothing shy of foul — not to mention how your rising to fame caught the attention of all the aristocrats in Fontaine (as Furina had once quipped, unaware you were right outside Monsieur Neuvillette’s office). You do not know what to take from it.

If more surges of the prophecy begin to manifest, it is mostly up to you to take yourself up on the job — another result of Furina’s damned dereliction.

Being proposed to does not cease the relentless flow of living, and thus is the sole reason why your feet drag you to the very precinct of Palais Mermonia. Fear lingers; you had just narrowly scraped death by a hair’s breadth, saved by your own reflexes at freezing the Fountain of Lucine before you could witness people dissolving into the very floors at which justice is determined.

Though the case is not very much ‘civil’ as your title suggests, there is no one better to take care of the problem if not you. And it does take into account the lives of people, so you do suppose that it is quite ‘civil’; in the context that it won’t very well be if more people die.

In layman’s terms, you have a case to solve that is very much your sole responsibility.

But this does not mean that you aren’t blazingly furious at the one who is supposed to spare her subjects from the injustice that is death; the sole guillotine looming over Fontaine.

Before you allow the guards to open the door, you lose the pencil in your hair and card your fingers through it to restore its lost volume. When the door does open, a crowd seems to swarm when you make an appearance at the front step — and you eye them with a sort of caution that has you preemptively biting your tongue. The stench of sweat and body odour shoot through your senses in one swift motion, and you almost lurch forward to gag, the flashing of cameras a blinding curtain over your sight.

And the queries commence.

"What measures have you taken to avert us from the prophecy?" a reporter cries out, thrusting a microphone toward your face, his crew trailing closely behind.

Another person, to whom you presume to be no older than twenty shouts warily. “Is it true that you are to be wed to the Chief Justice? What does this mean for your future and your new career?”

“Over here!”

“One for the cameras!’

You take a calculated move to disregard their questions and push further through the crowd — only to realise how much of a grave mistake you’ve made. An influx of more people come pouring in, snuffing the place out of any oxygen you can steal for yourself; and before you know it, you are unable to breathe. The throng of people swells and the contact of skin against skin from all the pressing bodies floods over you like a deluge.

Navigating your mind is the main challenge for a situation like this; how is one meant to think straight if all compass fails? Your eyes flicker to the floor, and you realise the space that surrounds you as if you are a magnet repelling its own pole; but this does not stop them from pushing in further. Regret is the first emotion you feel out of anything; Why did I sign myself up for this job? Is one of the questions that cry out— but it dissipates when the more people fight through the field.

Shitshitshitshit! It almost feels like the very ground you stand on begins to cave in and you’re shrinking under the captious gazes of all the cameras and you feel so small. A fruitless attempt to create space brings everything to an impasse; and then everything falls silent.

The crowd parts as your vision clears and your breathing slows. Damn it to the heat of the moment, but you swear you hear your heart pounding like a gong in the very forefront of your head. There he is, your knight in shining armour, as another headline stated — and if you were any more spiteful, your voice would’ve dripped with malice at the very notion of having him, the Chief Justice, by your side at every inconvenience.

But he seems to just do that at this ‘inconvenience’.

A low voice vibrates against your back and you feel a chill tease at your spine. “It is not necessary for you to converge at the Palais at this hour. I implore you all to return to wherever you came from, for my partner and I have important matters to attend to at this moment.”

This only prompts a surge of questions that drown out any attempts of the people to break through the surface of the stampede. Something — of what you presume to be a sharp edge of camera gear — grazes your side, and you physically feel a stitch come undone. The initial sting is almost akin to an ant bite, and you instinctively press your palm against it and hope that the pain from the pressure can override any pain from the wound. Pivoting, your left knee buckles as you shift your weight, your frame now shielded from the majority of the crowd. Lifting your cupped palm away from your hip, a little patch of red comes to bloom under the soft drapes of fabric of your blouse. This is what happens when you don’t take health care seriously, you jest in your mind: a fruitless attempt at diverting your attention elsewhere even if it is for a measly few seconds. Allowing your arm to slacken, your elbow nestles firmly against your side, offering brief respite from the discomfort.

Your ears begin to ring at the sudden crescendo of voices after the Iudex’s silence, and you briefly glance at him before you realise he is peering closely at you, ultramarine eyes trailing to the very curve of your hip.

“Must I reiterate — my partner and I have an urgent case to attend to, so if you would please excuse us.” A brief smile tugs at his lips, but it is an exasperated one. He reaches for your waist — to which he then withdraws, choosing instead to have his fingers interlace with your own. Almost dazed, you stare at your now elevated hand, and then to him, with an almost astonished awe that can only be considered as such: a want to slap him. This is certainly not of his character! What audacity…

It all happens so swiftly you have no time to turn your head at the voice that comes from the man to your left. He brings his lips to your ear and you barely make out the words — and yet the main message still prevails. “Stay close to me,” is the honey-lined command he mutters under his breath.

He starts his advancement through the crowd, and you absentmindedly comply and attempt to replicate his pace — albeit with a noticeable limp in your gait (your attempt to shield it only has the multiple daggers piercing from within to grow into a grotesque violence). A certain demographic splits away from the crowd, retreating; another, more resilient and stubborn, stand as though secured with screws embedded into cement. Some claw at your blouse, and some to your skirt — and you cannot tell if the shouts that leave their mouths are profanities, praise, or whatever else stands in the blur of the in between.

The autumn chill freezes the warmth that once wrapped around your limbs and leaves a delicate, yet lingering frost on the apples of your cheeks. Suffocating as the influx of people was, you are now free from them, and you look back to see the aftermath of dejected faces and the subsiding of camera shutters.

Awareness has you stealing a brief look downward and and you feel a slight prickle of a sting at the clarity. You do not want to tend to it now; hence why you freeze a layer of ice under the gauze with strained effort. 2-in-1! Numbing cream and makeshift stitch!

With now being spared the imploring curiosity of mortality, you do not hesitate to drop Neuvillette’s hand.

For good measure, you look past the man’s shoulder and over your own; a part of you tells you that no one is around — but how can you trust your surety? You are human; and to be human is to be defined by the errors that scream through the flesh of your being.

“There was no necessity for you to aid me, Monsieur. I was — and still am — completely, and utterly alright.” You do not turn to face him, nor do you dare to stop walking.

Neuvillette lags behind, his presence only recognisable from the shine of his boots under the sun. “I assure you it was not an action of intent, Madame; I was only off to seek a brief reprise from my duties, but instead, I was met with quite the group of people swarming you outside the Palais. Surely you must know this act was merely my own responsibility as —”

Strides fueled by adrenaline come to a brief stop and you whirl on your heel, met with a bewildered Neuvillette stopping just before he can collide into you. “Yes I do, very much know that, Chief Justice.” You lift your heel and swing it lightly backwards, stretching the distance between the two of you. “Now if you’ll excuse me; I am to mediate the threat that the Fountain poses right now.”

Instead of being patient enough to wait for a response, you curtsy and turn to leave. Someone just so happens to not take the memo, and you stop your stride again. “What is it now?”

“I am a man of my word, Madame; I claimed to have a role in what happened last night to the people, and so I must certainly be of service.”

Dejected as you are, you still remain unwavering in your gaze. “...Right.”

Neuvillette chooses not to refute, and you do not find it in yourself to speak. It is a walk of shame, almost — but the indignity lies not in the quiet, but rather in the Chief Justice's inaction in releasing the tension.

You steal a glance at Neuvillette, hoping for some sign of reassurance or understanding, but his expression remains impassive.

Your pace is now unrhythmic. The impulse to disrupt this unsettling silence with anything — a word, a gesture, or a mere breath — becomes a refuge sought in the recesses of your mounting desperation; because, God, you cannot stand another minute with this man! Yet, a brief flit of what he might be thinking gives you a taste of how, most probably, he is not feeling as disturbed as you are right now. Observing him from the corner of your eye, his demeanour remains unperturbed. Damn him and his impartiality.

Someone chooses to finally shatter the static, and it is not you nor Neuvillette. Instead it is that reporter: Charlotte. Though you do not see her, the sheer recognition of who it is is confirmed when she sounds from behind, and the two of you turn your heads almost in unison. A head of baby pink hair is the first aspect of her that you notice, and everything else comes into full view.

She claps her hands with a roll of paper in her left. “Oh. My. God. I have been struck with luck today, it seems! You would not care as to spare a few minutes of your time for some questions, would you?”

You exhale a nervous laugh, looking to Neuvillette to reject the offer.

Beaming, she turns to you, and lays a friendly hand on your wrist. “I’m a big fan. It is an honour to finally meet you in person.”

That is undoubtedly a first. Maybe she thought you were the acting chief justice? As President of the Conseil d'État, you haven't accomplished anything particularly noteworthy to warrant or merit such commendation.

Clearing your throat, you bring forth the most professional smile you can muster. “And to you, too, Charlotte. Though I am afraid we are quite occupied with other responsibilities… Perhaps we could arrange an official meeting for an interview? Just let me know of your schedule.”

“Oh! That is very kind of you, Madame. I will certainly send you my schedule and please, pick what date as you see fit.” Her eyes shift from yours to Neuvillette. “And congratulations on your engagement! The topic of your engagement has been thrown into every conversation under the sun. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Neuvillette closes in a little nearer, clearly piqued by her claim. “Really? I certainly did not foresee this to be upped to such a… grand scale. But surely —” He jolts at you nudging his arm to stop. “Ah. Yes. I apologise greatly, Charlotte, but the matter at hand is far too grave.”

“Yeah, sure — no biggie. See you two around!”

And there she goes, frolicking like a little girl in an open field. “A strange one, that girl.” You say, a tinge of amusement in your tone. Deep down, you are grateful that she happened to be there: a casual catalyst to have conversation up and running again. You pretend you do not dislike the man in front of you.

He hums a little. “Her childlike innocence is seldom seen nowadays; it is a quality I have so wished to feel.”

You turn to him, eyes narrowing in scepticism. “Never have I met someone with a childhood so terrible.”

His expression seems to tighten, almost as if he’s been caught. “That was not what I meant, I am merely enamoured and simply jealous at how people can still enjoy their youth. You feel that way, too, don’t you?”

You do not completely buy into his claim, yet you decide to play along. “What do you think?”

Another beat of silence.

“We must make haste,” he says.

“Indeed we must.”

To feel relieved or concerned at the lack of people at the Opera Epiclese is another question that looms like jeopardy trivia. Its perimeter is boarded by tape and identified with a bold AUTHORISED PERSONNEL ONLY at its entrance. A peculiar stillness blankets Erinnyes, the previously flowing waters now arrested in their motion, the sight of a frozen fountain showing bright and iridescent in the setting sun.

The man next to you looks forward as if entranced, the reason for the fall of his expression unreadable. His gaze drops to yours and he snaps himself out of it. “Ladies first,” he says, extending his arm as a gesture of courtesy.

“I do not like that this is the first time you’ve shown me such courtesy in the context of such dire circumstances in which I could possibly die if the water thaws,” you jest offhandedly, but you do not think he takes it the same way.

“Forgive me if I have insulted you, Madame. I did not think my actions through,” he starts, but you stop him with a tut before he can continue further.

“Yes, Monsieur. You have insulted me and you certainly did not think your actions through.” you shoot him a glare.

"Was that... a joke? I certainly have not the talent which some people possess of conversinf easily. I apologise."

You scoff and brush past him, and though you do not see it — you just have a feeling he won’t attempt to overtake you in the dominance of your stride. And he doesn’t.

The Fountain is now dripping as it melts, its opal waters catching itself in the crevices of the ground. It lulls you ever so slightly, at how it trickles with an inexplicable slowness, a second longer than that of normal water; a possible explanation for why the Fountain has not fully melted yet.

There is a puddle of the Primordial water in front of you, and a sudden desire to touch it surges through you; it is a strange longing, but it lures you in like a moth to a flame. It wouldn't harm anyone to continue staring at it for a little bit, would it? You've always questioned if you were indeed Fontainian, and the solution to your dilemma is poised in front of you, pulling you toward it.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” The Iudex has his hand wrapped around your wrist, his gaze a warning. You do not know what has gotten into you — hell, you don’t even remember reaching for it.

You wriggle your arm from his grasp. “Don’t think much of it.” You feel protectively at your hand up until the base.

Neuvillette’s gaze lingers, before he soundlessly leaves your side. He makes his way to the other end of the Fountain of Lucine, where he examines it with such curiosity you begin to wonder what he finds intriguing about the rear end of a Fountain that appears uniform at every angle.

A shout sounds from you and reaches the man on the other side of the fountain. “So. Mister Chief Justice. What do you think we should do?" He seems just as entranced as you are, eyes not compensating to find yours as his lips move to find a response.

“I think I can possibly revert the waters to how they once were — store it deeper inside the Fountain,” as he speaks, he begins to advance in a return to your side.“But I can only work with bodies of water, not ice. So I need to request a favour from you.”

Unsure of where he is taking this, you reply with a diffident: “Sure.”

He is now standing in front of you (it is a little too close, however — so you shuffle backwards). “Could you… possibly — no, that wouldn’t work.” He stops midway, a wrinkle forming between his blond brows. What an awfully peculiar man he is, you think, eyeing the way he seems to be finding other words to phrase what he was to say better. You think he fails to do so when his slightly ajar mouth closes.

You would be a fraud to say you weren’t curious. “No. Tell me.”

“It was merely an afterthought, and I suppose now that you still wouldn’t be up for it if I told you, so I might as well. Is it possible for you to reverse your freezing of the ice? To revert it back to its liquid state, so to speak?"

Your eyes dart to your hands, and you bargain the sheer potential of your power; you are able to manipulate the waters into ice — this you know — but to revert ice to water? It is certainly not unheard of, and yet you would consider such a method to be unorthodox; nothing of the sort was ever taught in schools, let alone by tutors. A memory from your youth resurfaces, your father’s blaring, forceful voice a menacing exploitation of your power he so desperately wanted to possess.

Flair was a spectacle — a luxury; for flaunting your own strength resulted in punishment.

“I cannot promise you anything. Do not be so much as dejected when my attempts prove to be futile, Monsieur.”

With an interest piqued, he brings his eyes to level with yours. “There shall be no need to worry if it fails. I have another idea we could resort to.” Something in your intuition had you feeling he thought you wouldn’t agree.

“Wouldn’t the water annihilate the both of us?”

His eyes shoot to the now dimming sky, not stealing a glance at the gloves he begins to adjust. “I will restrain the flow of water, you need not be concerned.”

You roll your shoulders back. “Well. Doesn’t hurt to try.”

Though he does not respond, he takes a step back, allowing you the full expanse of the Fountain. You wriggle and flex your fingers. Shouldn’t be too hard, you tell yourself. How difficult could it possibly be? If anything, it is just a test of your skill; where are the cameras? If they were to take photos of you, you would love it if they would right now. Or maybe they find it all too mundane. Downfall and drama is what they prey on, after all.

Your eyes flutter closed, and you begin to reach into the ice with everything within you, forcing it toward you with a tug so hard it has you winded. The autumn chill intensifies as the wind carries the ice like a vice. Of all the things you think of, you are reminded of your father’s distant coldness: an extinguisher of warmth (of which belonged to your mother). It is a bitter childhood memory — one of an empty seat at dinner tables and palpable fury. You can almost hear your father’s voice, distorted as all memories are (they all come perfect, uniform — and yet they leave like glass breaking off at the hands of an all-too-passionate lover).

Ice crawls up your arm, the numbness a factor you do not pay any attention to. You cannot deny that this does bring you an odd discomfort, for the discomfort you usually feel at the use of your Vision is a draining of energy to create; yet this is the first time you’ve ever been required to destroy.

It slows your pulse, as ice does, and your eyes fight to shoot open at the idea of a slip of your consciousness. Yet you still pursue. Pulling harder this time, the oxygen in your lungs grows frigid and cut like knives against your ribcage. You attempt to channel more with pure instinct, but you cannot. There is nothing for you to reach.

With finality, you permit your eyes to flutter open, all the pain you should be feeling blurring into the foreground when greeted with a vista of bright blues and the billowing of the Iudex’s robes. Your arm instinctively lifts to shield yourself from the roaring wind.

A halo of azure hues encircle his wrists, lacing through his hair. The water remains frozen, but it is not from the ice that you hold dear, and instead it is from his outstretched hands, twisting against the tide in attempts to turn back time against the current.

You stagger backwards, and yet you miraculously feel grounded in place, a paradox of numbness and pain you wish not to acknowledge. The seal he begins to place against the water ripples through the air like a soundwave, stripping you of any hearing and in its absence is replaced by a constant ringing.

Neuvillette drops his arm, the suspended droplets of water following suit, crushed under the weight of his command. Everything seems to snap into motion the second the Fountain stills, a single wave of harsh wind fluttering through Erinnyes, the familiar rattle of trees swaying teasing at your ears.

Something about the whole spectacle seems like a fantasy, those of which you hear about in fables and folklore.

“Bravo,” you muse, noticing the way his shoulders sag.

The Chief Justice looks over his shoulder, slate eyes morphing into wide ones as he takes in your frame. “My, you’re awfully pale.”

You flash him a tired smile. “Nothing I can’t handle. And no, I am not pale — this is an insult. I am perfectly sunkissed, so much so that every man and woman desires me or desires to be me.” You wave him away, your hand limp in its action.

The Iudex’s face only deepens in distress. You do not give him room to speak. “Why the long face hm? Surely you don’t think so lowly of me. Surely you…” Weights weigh in on your eyelids, and your knees buckle. An attempt to balance yourself with your other foot fails, and instead of meeting hard cement the warmth of an unwanted embrace greets you.

“(Name),” he mutters. Your name rolls off his tongue like a curse; ludicrous. “You’re bleeding.”

Instinctively you use his arms as leverage. “I am fine, Monsieur. I am no princess in need of saving — oh! Nevermind, you are right,” you slur, a hand you never realised was on your hip coming away red. A drunk smile flickers on your features for a brief moment before you slump again into his arms.

He stumbles backwards at the suddenness of your movement, but his grip is firm. “You are unfit for a trip back to the city. I must escort you.” His breath brushes against the nape of your neck.

You push him away. “Do not treat me as if I’m a child, young man. I can manage myself, I am a grown woman and I am employed. That says something, doesn’t it?” Defensively, you point at yourself to prove that you are not injured. Your claim contradicts itself; your sight begins to fail, blurred by growing black spots dotting your vision.

“Madame, please. You have over-exerted yourself.”

The Iudex’s voice comes as a muffled blur, and you attempt to take a step forward — but it is limp and miscalculated. Neuvillette's gaze briefly falls to your hands, his touch supporting you with one hand on your back and the other delicately grasping your fingers. “Goodness. Your hands are cold.” Sapphire peeks through the ice, the engagement ring a cruel reminder of the tie that binds you both.

You manage a whisper. “Not entirely. Just the palm.” You wiggle your fingers slightly, albeit with great effort.

“Please, refrain from speaking,” he implores gently, a hint of concern laced in his voice. “It is imperative that I help you back home, so forgive me if my hold happens to be a little rough.” Before you can cry out in protest, he scoops you up, arms sliding under your inner knees and upper back. Platinum strands fall against your chest, his own rising and falling peculiarly slow. You can still make out a frown that pulls on his lips, and you almost smile at the notion that you’re the reason for his agony.

How sightly.

Your arms naturally curl around the groove of his neck. “I’ll hate you for this. Up until I am brought to my grave.”

“I believe your disdain for me would be far greater had I abandoned you,” he says plainly, no hint of jest in his tone. He adjusts his hold of you, and you slide further down into his grasp, now sandwiched between his arms and chest; you do not make any alarm of it, however, thoughts trailing to your fluffed mattress and plush pillows.

“My disdain for you is already much too cruel for a soul to comprehend,” you garble, a wisp of your misty white breath escaping as a plume.

"As it is for me," he breathes out, but you cannot read his lips.

Pointing blindly in a direction you assume is north, you declare: “Well then; if you don’t have any objections, to my apartment it is."

a/n: spot the subtle pride n prejudice reference I put for fun teehee

taglist : @sek0ya, @souxiesun

#genshin impact #neuvillette x reader #neuvillettexreader #neuvillette #charlotte genshin #arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #neuvillette genshin

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odd-g0ul · 2 months

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Okay the final completed designs of the characters for the Mafia AU are done!! :D

You've seen art of them before, but I hope you enjoy their new and improved designs~

The first book and chapter(s)(?) Should be out tomorrow on Wattpad and AO3!!

Look forward to seeing you there! :)

(Original Designs):

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nekoannie-chan · 3 months

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I won’t wait for you

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader (past).

Word count: 371 words.

Rating: Teen.

Summary: You don’t need Steve.

Major Tags: Angst, mention of cheating.

Additional tags: This is my entry to @caplanbuckybarnes Weekly Writing Challenge! #1 with the prompt:

"You don't get to leave and then come back after all this time and expect me to welcome you with open arms."

@saiyanprincessswannie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission for my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

Tags: @sinceimetyou @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @navybrat817 @angrythingstarlight @shield-agent78 @charmed-asylum @pandaxnienke @real-fbi @smokeandnailz @white-wolf1940 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @xoxonotme @bluemusickid @leyannrae @harrysthiccthighss @marvelatthisone @caplanbuckybarnes @sapphire-rogers @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose @hallecarey1 @nana1000night @talia-rumlow @writingshae @alexxavicry @azulatodoryuga @daemonslittlebitch @chaoticcollectivenightmare @endlesstwanted @chemtrails-club @marigoldreamer @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @here4thefanfics @theestorm @patzammit @kmc1989 @somegirlfromasgard @rogersbarber

You gave a biscuit to your daughter Sarah and another one to the puppy that was only a few weeks old that you had just adopted after the little one had been begging you for more than a month for a pet. You just couldn't say "no" to her; she actually looked a lot like Steve. Although that didn't bother you, you just kept pretending he didn't exist anymore.

You didn't notice that someone was watching them in the park; nothing seemed suspicious, not even when he started following you.

"Y/N, “Steve called out to you.

For a split second, you stopped but immediately kept walking, even though Steve caught up with them.

“Y/N, it's been a long time," Steve said.

“Who is he? “your daughter asked.

“An old work colleague," you replied. “I don't have anything to talk to you about," you mumbled quietly enough so your daughter wouldn't hear.

Steve turned to look at the girl, who looked a little dismayed, and then at the puppy. He stepped aside; it wasn't the time to talk.

You looked at the clock; it was eleven o'clock in the morning, and it wasn't time for Clarice to come home from school with your daughter. John and Clarice were busy taking all the children who were mutants back home after school.

You opened the door and closed it later, but Steve wouldn't allow it.

“Why didn't you tell me I have a daughter?“ Steve reproached you.

"You don't get to leave and then come back after all this time and expect me to welcome you with open arms."

“You just disappeared."

“I saw what you did with Sharon; I had planned that after you got Bucky to safety, I was going to tell you, you know, we don't need you; you'd better go," you said.

"Everything is all right?“ Lorna stepped in; you hadn't even realized when they'd arrived.

“I think you should leave, Rogers; you're not welcome here," Wanda said.

Steve looked down and turned to leave.

“I can still take Sarah for the ice cream I promised her, right?“ Wanda asked, not taking her eyes off the road.

“Sure, she hasn't stopped talking about it since you told her."

#caplansweeklywritingchallenge1 #steve rogers x reader

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neondownpourzine · 5 months

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RAIN CODE ZINE - Interest Check Results!

Hello! After a week, we've gathered an encouraging 88 responses! With that in mind, I've decided to go through with the zine 🎉🎉🎉

Here is the full results report:

In terms of participating, we have an overwhelming majority wishing to participate as artists! There's a fairly even split between writers and readers only, and just slightly less on anyone willing to take on either writer/artist roles. With this in mind, I've considered having this zine include 24 artists, 3 digital merch artists, and 6 writers, not including the moderators.

Here are the results regarding the zine's theme. We will be focusing on a general RAIN CODE zine! However, there will still be a theme so the zine can remain cohesive.

The theme is: A Trip Down Memory Lane!

For this theme, I'm hoping for a variety of pieces focusing on each chapter of the story, from the prologue to the epilogue. I'll permit some pre-game and post-game works as well, but would prefer a major focus on the canon story.

We have a staggering dominance of people preferring to be an art moderator. Even with this in mind, we will be accepting one art moderator and one writing moderator. I will handle scheduling. Applications for both will be sent out soon.

Most people have agreed on a writer/artist collaboration, which means that 6 of the artist participants will be paired with a corresponding writer to draw art that accompanies their writing.

Most folks would be willing to have digital merch attached to the zine! We will accept 3 artists to make digital merchandise. The merchandise doesn't need to fit into any one chapter, so the rules will be a bit looser on what the art can portray.

And those are the results!

Regarding some suggestions and questions asked in the interest check:

You should add keychains/physical merch/ physical copies. Full disclosure, this is the first zine I've ever run, so this zine will be a free, digital only PDF. This is to keep it as simple and manageable as possible.

A cosplay section? I would count cosplay under art. When I release artist applications, cosplayers are welcome to submit cosplay photos and even create them as entries to the final product.

Artists should make promo art! Once I have co-moderators and participants, any artists who are willing to offer simple doodles for promotional material are welcome to contribute.

Link contributor's Ao3 accounts in the zine? The zine will offer full credits for all participants in the zine. This includes any preferred social media accounts for sites such as Ao3, Wattpad, Twitter, Tumblr, and anywhere else.

How will this be scheduled? I intend to drop a full schedule post soon, but the basic rundown will be: 15 Jan - 22 Jan: Moderator Applications 24 Jan - 25 Jan: Moderator acceptance/rejection emails sent out, mods invited to the zine's discord server and emailing list. 1 Feb - 20 Feb: Artist/Writer Applications 25 Feb - 29 Feb: Artist/Writer acceptance/rejection emails sent out, participants invited to join the discord server and emailing list. 1 March - 15 Jun: Production period, with monthly progress check-ins for all participants 16 Jun - 29 Jun: Countdown period 30 Jun: Zine releases

I assure you, Vivia Twilight will appear at least one time in this zine!

As an additional note, I'd like to thank @rararazaquato for coming up with the title of the zine!

And thank you everyone for your responses!

#rain code #raincode #mdarc #master detective archives #master detective archives: rain code #fandom zine #zine promo #interest check results

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femslashfortnight · 6 days

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Hatchetfield Femslash Fortnight FAQs:

With the event coming up, we wanted to answer some frequent questions we’ve been getting!

FAQ:

Regarding the Make It Sapphic prompt, you can make any m/f or m/m ship into f/f or f/nb for this! You can make a male character female or non-binary for this prompt, either as a complete genderbend or simply making that character transfemme or nonbinary! As long as the ship isn't m/m or m/f, you can use it for this event!

Furthermore, you can use a Made Sapphic ship for any of the prompt days. The world is your oyster.

Q: What are alternates?

A: Prompts you can slot in to any day instead of that day's official prompt in case you don’t like it or don’t know what to do! You can use all of them, some, or none! Hell you can even use both official prompts and alternates, go crazy!

Q: Do I have to do all fourteen days?

A: Only do as much as you want to! The rules are pretty open here, you can make as much or as little for any prompt. You can even post multiple works for one prompt, or use all the main prompts and all the alts! The sky is your limit.

Q: What can I make?

A: Whatever you want! Fan art, fan fic, edits, gifs, or anything else fandom related you can think of. As long as it's inspired by the prompt, is a femslash hatchetfield fanwork, and sticks to our established rules, anything goes.

Q: How do I post?

A: Anything posted to tumblr will be reblogged here on the femslashfortnight blog, but you can post it anywhere. If you want us to see it for sure then be sure to tag this blog! Otherwise we’ll be browsing the #HFFF and #Hatchetfield Femslash Fortnight tag all the time and be enjoying all your stuff!

Q: I’m not sure if my work fits one of the prompts, what can I do?

A: The prompts are supposed to be inspiration rather than limiting, so as long as your fic is inspired by a prompt you should be totally fine! Though, if you’re still worried about it feel free to contact the blog directly via asks, or send a message to one of the mods and we’ll do our best to clear it up for you.

Q: Should I include Trigger Warnings / Content Warnings?

A: Yes! Regarding explicit content or potentially triggering content, usual AO3 tagging rules apply. When posting a link from AO3 (or another location) to Tumblr, add content/trigger warnings at the top of your post—and also place your mature (e.g. smut, mature themes) submission beneath a read more along with the #HFFFAfterdark and/or #Hatchetfield Femslash fortnight Afterdark tags.

Q: I was late, can I still post?

A: Go for it! We will be accepting submissions to the blog and AO3 Collection for a week after, as well as actively reblogging them. So anything shared with us until the 7th of July is good to go.

Q: Can I post to other places (Ao3, Wattpad, TikTok, etc)?

A: Of course! Just make sure I’d you want us to see that you post it to tumblr (even as a link) also!

Q: Can I post an already existing piece if it fits a prompt?

A: As long as it’s not been already posted before then sure, just make sure it complies with our guidelines and is correctly tagged and TW/CW are added if applicable.

We’re very excited as the event grows closer, and hope everyone else is too. If you have any more questions feel free to ask away!

#hatchetfield femslash fortnight #hfff #blinkys rewatch party #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #starkid #hatchetfield universe #black friday musical #nerdy prudes must die #nightmare time #nightmare time 2 #the guy who didnt like musicals

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twinklelilstarkey · 1 year

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Tutor: Blind Date

Words: 5.9k Type: ANGST BABYYYYY Summary: Your friends set you up on a blind date. Warnings: Female!Reader. Secret Relationship. Lying to friends and family. Might need some more proofreading. A bit of a cliffhanger ending, but you can also guess what might come next. [Angst is not between Rafe and Y/N]

Tutor Masterlist (for context, you should REALLY read the smuts <3)

Inspired by the idea given by @ajdjshei

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

“Absolutely not.” You say with a forced chuckle.

“Oh, come on!” Kristy says defensively, yet with a smile clear on her face. “When was the last time you went out with someone?”

Her words make you turn your head simply to not give her a glare. You were on your way to the bathroom - running away from the beginning of a conversation that can only end with you being the theme of - and were caught by surprise right as you were getting off your bed.

All of the girls are sitting either on your bed or by your desk, and today is one of those days when they love to just come over and spend time with you. They usually want to watch movies, other times gossip, and, of course, convince you to meet new people. Specifically boys.

“Aiden was the last one, probably.” One of the girls adds.

“Can we not talk about him?” You say, cringing.

“I agree.” Kristy says and, after a pause, bounces in excitement on your bed to get your attention, “But, please, hear us out. You’d have so much fun.”

“But I do not want to go.” You slowly tell her, trying not to sound too serious for the sole reason of not wanting to be rude. “Please, let it go.”

“But why?”

You turn around and walk over to your bathroom, wanting to distance yourself from the situation. You can hear some of the girls laughing, which relaxes you. To them, this is still just you making everything dramatic for fun, even when your speeding heart is making sure you know that it’s not.

You cannot see a way out of this situation without being rude. But what else can you even do? You can’t tell them the real reason why you don’t want to talk to a guy at this party or, especially, go on a date.

“Come on.” You hear Kristy's voice a bit more muffled now, right as you leave the bathroom door only a crack open.

You lay your hands on the cold counter and sigh once more. You stare at yourself in the mirror and force your mind to think. You need to find a reason, one that might not sound too harsh yet might be carrying a little bit of truth. You can always say that you’re interested in someone, but you also know how your friends are. They wouldn’t breathe until you told them who it was.

You hear shuffling in the bedroom as well as some whispers, and, deep down, you know that you can’t hide in the bathroom forever. You need to get out and talk to them, but it’s hard. You just saw Rafe this morning. Spending time with the girls and not mentioning him even once feels… wrong. Yet, mentioning him seems even worse.

For so long you’ve trusted them with your everything, and, as more and more days pass, you only lie to them more. It’s not fair.

It feels fine when you’re with him, and it helps that you’re able to spend entire nights and mornings with him. Rafe makes everything bad go away. But, when he leaves, it’s as if you’ve just been lifted from a protection spell. Everything and everyone can and will hurt you. All because you’re with him.

You fake doing something in the sink before walking back out with your chest heavy and mind slow. As expected, when you step out, you’re greeted by all of the girls’ eyes and grins. They really want to take you out with some guy. You have no other way out of this.

“It’s just one blind date,” Kristy assures one. “You can say ‘no’ after the first 5 minutes. Just do it for us. Just try to go on this date.”

Hope spreads through the room as the silence continues. You’re making it seem as if you’re considering it, and… you are.

“What’s his name?” You ask them while making your way back to the bed.

Some squeals of excitement break through the silence of the room at your words, and you lay down on the bed, right where you were prior to this conversation starting. You lay your head on your pillow as your eyes stay on Kristy and some of the other girls beside her, and their smiles are gigantic.

“It’s a blind date, dummy. You can’t know that.” Kristy says playfully before laying her head on the other pillow while looking at you. “But we know him.” She lays her hand on yours, “And we promise that he’s a really, really nice guy.”

You look over at the other girls and all of them just nod at you, almost as if silently promising you that Kristy is giving you the most husband-material man on the entire island. You open your mouth to answer them but consider staying quiet for just a little longer. Going on a date doesn’t mean anything. You’re just continuing to act as if you’re single, lonely, sad, and without a Rafe Cameron in your life or bed. You’re doing the right thing.

“Fine… I’ll go on the date.” You say.

The room breaks in absolute hysterics. The girls jump, clap, giggle and let out small screams in excitement. You almost can’t contain your smile over their happiness, but you do snuggle closer to your pillow when all of their attention comes back to you. The hint of a familiar smell on your washed pillow hits you right as you snuggle in closer. Your body reacts in automatic comfort at the faint smell of cologne.

Your eyes move back to Kristy, and she smiles brightly at you.

(...)

To your relief, you were able to get ready for the date on your own. The girls did ask you for pictures of the clothes you were picking and what make-up you were thinking of doing. You really did not want to overdo anything when it came to this date. So, from your clothes to your hair and make-up, everything was casual. Just like something you would wear to go anywhere, really.

The restaurant the girls picked is one just by the end of Figure 8. It’s a family restaurant, well frequented by both Kooks and Pogues. It relaxed you when they mentioned it. You didn’t want it to be anywhere expensive or too lonely. Somewhere where you would be okay with going on your own to meet someone new, who you have never seen before.

“We’re here.” Kristy happily says from the driver’s seat.

It’s just you, her, and two more girls in the car and they all turn to face you when the car is parked right in front of the establishment. The sun is beginning to set as dinner time is right on the verge of starting, and there are already some people going in. You stare at the couple letting the door close behind them as they step inside. You’re really doing this.

“Don’t act so excited.” One of the girls tells you jokingly.

You force a smile, and they all chuckle at you. You lay your hand on the door of the car and sigh when feeling the cold handle.

“We’ll pick you up in an hour.” Kristy tells you before you can open the door, “But do not hesitate in telling us if he’s thinking of taking you home. We’ll happily oblige.”

You fake a laugh and hide the obvious fake sound by opening the door. The soft warm breeze hits you right as you do it, and you jump out of the car. The girls offer you some words of encouragement, but you didn’t do more than just offer a nod and a smile before, quite purposely, closing the door while one of them was mid-sentence.

You don’t look at the car another time, knowing that you will find all of the girls smiling and waving at you to just continue walking. You make your first step towards the restaurant, while simultaneously reaching for your phone in your bag. Step after step, nothing gets easier. You really don’t want to do this.

You pull the door open and walk in, letting it close by itself behind you. Your eyes scan the main room of the restaurant, and you can already find the larger tables filled with groups of friends. As well as some others with one person, or another with a couple, who is just sitting and talking while looking down at their menus.

“Y/N?”

You follow the sound of the voice and turn around to face someone taking a step toward you. It’s a guy just about your age, his hair is dark and straight, perfect skin and a nice smile. His glasses set perfectly on his face as his brown eyes stare back into yours. He looks like a nice guy, a really nice guy.

“I’m Kristy’s friend, Alex.” He says while extending his hand towards you, which you accept into yours, “Wow, you look just like the pictures she showed me.”

Looks like the date was only blind to you. You hide your discomfort towards the whole plan Kristy must have done for this date and simply shake his hand and offer him a smile. It’s not his fault the two of you are in this predicament, only Kristy’s.

“Why don’t we go get a table?” He asks when your hands separate.

And off the two of you went. He did the talking, and you simply followed his steps. Alex made the effort to choose the table by the window, one where you could see the beach and the sunset. Right as the two of you are seated, you very much hide your face behind the menu for a few seconds and prepare to overthink your every action from here on out.

The drinks and food were ordered, and the conversation was fluid for most of the time.

You sip your water as Alex continues to speak. You listen to his words attentively each time he begins a sentence, but you hate yourself for how many times you get distracted by other things around you. Sometimes it’s by people walking into the restaurant, a waitress walking by, or a burst of louder laughter from the table near you.

Alex is a nice guy, exactly like the girls had said. He listens to you, and he’s interesting. His stories or his topics of conversation are not boring. And he is handsome. But you are still very much uninterested in what could be the outcome of this date.

You’ve been trying to avoid looking at your phone out of respect, but you have felt it vibrate on your leg countless times. You’ve peaked here and there, and each time it has been the girls asking for updates. Nothing interesting.

“So, what about you?”

You look away from the window to look at him with widened eyes.

“Hm, what?” You ask, caught off guard by him asking for your input.

Alex chuckles at that, and you force a little smile to play off your lack of attention to his words. He doesn’t seem offended. He’s simply amused.

“I asked you what your favorite movie was.” He said with his bright smile.

You do a little ‘oh’ with a chuckle, and his smile widens as you do. Your answer starts off as basic, just simple words of the name, and you can tell right away the way interest just takes over his face. That’s when your answer becomes longer and more detailed, just like his had been. And he nods and looks you in the eyes the entire time, fully engrossed with what you’re saying.

“Yeah, and that is… all.” You say at the very end, making him smile at you again.

“It’s a valid answer. I’ll give you that.” He says, making you grin at him. “What about…” He thinks for just a little bit. “Vacations. Where did you like to travel the most?”

You hum as you begin to think, yet you're quickly interrupted by the waitress bringing you your appetizers and laying them on the table before you. The two of you thank her as she puts them down before walking off.

“I don’t know…” You come back to your answer. “I’d have to think a little harder on that one, I think. What about you?”

Alex is quick to jump on his answer with great enthusiasm, making you feel a little bit more at ease with him as the meal continues. You two eat while on the same topic of conversation, and you laugh at something he says. You notice then the way his face lights up when you do it, and the way he seems so more relaxed as you speak.

To make up for that, you give him an answer on your favorite vacation destination as soon as he’s done talking about his. His ears almost visibly perk up at that, and he smiles and chuckles at the many details that you have as your justification.

“My mom doesn’t like it there as much as me, but I promise that it’s better than how she describes it.” You say with a smile, “Have you ever been there?”

“No, I haven’t.” He says, smiling behind his cup before taking a sip.

“You have to. It will change your opinion on family vacations forever, it just makes everything better.”

He chuckles at what you say, and you smile at him again, happy that you were able to entertain him too. When there's a shift in the noise of the restaurant as new people come in, you check the time on your phone and notice that it’s at a time when every restaurant will be packed no matter what. You’re thankful that you guys got here earlier.

“I’ll definitely make my siblings consider it for this summer.” He tells you while putting his cup down.

“You have siblings?” You ask curiously.

“Yes.” He nods, “Four of them, actually.”

He laughs at the surprise on your face, and he soon begins to explain them. As you two continue to speak and get to know one another, your friends drive back into the restaurant's driveway.

It was cruel to make you believe that you are on your own, but, still, they needed a reason to make it possible for you to get a ride back home from this guy. They trust him enough to do it. And, while they do, they’re not stupid enough to leave their friend on a blind date all alone.

“Do you think it’s going well?” One of the girls asks while they all try to be entertained by whatever is happening outside of the car.

They’re hidden quite well in the parking lot. They parked not too close to the restaurant, but close enough to be able to run in if needed or to see you walk out with the perfect man, who will drive you home, on your arm.

There’s a tree right by the car, and they all know that whenever the night will fall, the car will simply disappear without the street lights being able to light it.

“Must be.” Another one of the girls answers, “She hasn’t even read my message.”

Kristy keeps looking outside, entertained by watching the people going into the restaurant as the usual time for dinner sets in, as well as some others who have already finished up.

The girls slowly realized that they’re in for a long time of nothing since you’re not even answering any of their messages, and, therefore, they will be left to try to find something to talk about and not worry about you as you continue your silent treatment.

(...)

It’s about 20 minutes later when the girls in the car gain some enthusiasm. And that is only because of the sight of you walking out of the restaurant. You don’t have your things with you, and you also don’t seem to be leaving.

That had been their first guess. Maybe something happened, and it was so bad that you just walked out of the restaurant without even saying a word in the group chat. But, in reality, you look just fine. You stand off a bit to the side when walking out, not wanting to block the entrance or exit. Your dress is flowing in the breeze, and that’s when you turn in their direction that they see that you’re on the phone.

You don’t see them, of course, as it has gotten darker with the sunset but they see you as the lights over your head light up your figure for anyone looking onto the empty porch. You smile as you begin to speak, and they watch you silently walking to the railing, resting your elbows on it as you stare into the parking lot.

“Who is she speaking to?” One of the girls asks.

“Maybe Ashley?” Kristy says, making everyone remember that one of the girls is home. “I’ll text her.”

No one dared to take their eyes off you as you continue your conversation. Only Kristy was able to since she does need to text Ashley to see if she’s the person on the phone. It’s not like they can exactly text you to ask why the well you’re out of the restaurant in the middle of your date to speak on the phone.

When Kristy looks back up, you’re laughing while looking around the parking lot. Whoever it is on the phone, they’re not letting you know of an emergency. It seems like a normal conversation. A casual and funny conversation. Is it really that important to make you step out of your date to have it, though? Unless you were letting Ashley know how amazing everything was going while Alex went to the bathroom, it just doesn't make sense.

“Ashley answered.” Kristy squealed as the phone vibrated in her hand. Every girl in the car looked away from you to stare at the screen as she unlocked her phone to read it. Disappointment was all they felt when they did, “It’s not her.”

Slowly, all eyes are back on you as your friends stare up in confusion.

They watch as you stand away from the railing and turn to face the door of the restaurant, the phone still against your ear. Your dress moves with you, and you smile as you say the last words. The girls watch without even blinking, not wanting to miss a second.

“We’re still on dessert.” You tell him for the tenth time, “It will only take you like 5 minutes to get here. You don’t need to leave the house yet.”

“Need me to pay for it?” The question makes you laugh.

“No, Rafe. I don’t need you to pay for my date with another boy.” You laugh out your words, “Just come pick me up… Please?”

“I will. You have 10 minutes.”

“Yes, sir.” You giggle as you pull the door of the restaurant open.

The girls watch from a distance, all of them unknowing of everything that you said or laughed at. Ashley is making Kristy’s phone insanely vibrate as she also wants to know what could be going on. They all exchange looks when you disappear back into the restaurant with your phone still by your ear as you probably say your farewells to the person on the other line.

“Who do you think it is?” Kristy asks the girls as she watches the door close behind you.

“It could be her mom.” One of the girls shrugs, “She was all excited when we told her of this date, remember? Maybe she called in to know about any updates.”

“You think?” Another girl asks.

“Who else could it be?” Kristy asks, now facing the girls again, “We would know if she had other friends.”

They all silently agree, and an awful silence fills the car.

In the restaurant, you take back your seat, noticing that Alex is back in his chair. You smile at him ever so slightly, and he smiles as well.

“I’m sorry. Didn’t know you’d be back so quickly.” You tell him, “I just had to answer a call.”

“That’s okay.” He tells you sweetly.

(...)

Rafe did decide to not do what he said he would on the phone and give you more time to finish the date. He doesn’t like the idea, but you did ask him to not force you into having to run out of the restaurant only because he was impatient - with sweeter words, of course. You had told him on the phone all about wanting to keep this façade with the guy so he wouldn't run and tell your friends that you didn’t even try to enjoy the date.

When Rafe drove into the parking lot, the girls didn’t pay him too much attention. To them, he was just one more car getting into the parking lot for a later dinner, but they don’t judge how late people like to eat their food, especially if they have other things to worry about.

Rafe sent you a text as soon as he was parked, and you read it under the table, continuously smiling at the boy who has definitely understood that this date will lead nowhere, but is still too nice to you. You two are able to have various long and pleasant conversations throughout dinner, so you're not too upset with having been forced to go out with him in the first place.

It’s after a long moment of silence that he makes the sudden question, “Can I ask why?”

You look up from your phone after answering the girls for the first time during the whole night, and the boy notices how your smile falters when you look at him to think of an answer.

“Why what?” You ask, oblivious to what he’s asking.

He shrugs before saying more, “I guess… Why are you not interested in this being a date?” His tone isn’t judgmental, you can tell, yet still, you freeze at the moment you need to justify your actions of the night.

“I don’t know.” You try to get away easily.

Your eyes focus somewhere else, and you try to calm down your racing heart as you look around you. You could always answer him sincerely and say that you have a secret boyfriend, but that would be utterly stupid. The number of messages that you’ve gotten all dinner, will be the amount that he will get as soon as you tell the girls that this night didn’t work out. They will spam him infinitely to know more about what happened. More on why you didn’t like him. Even the strongest person on Earth would have a hard time dealing with this, therefore, anyone would just spill the truth to get the girls off of them.

Alex begins to form a smile on his lips, but both of you are interrupted by the waiter walking up to the table. Alex is the one that insists on paying for the food, which only left you to act defeated as the waiter took his card. He found it funny as you did so, and you two seemed to go back to pleasant conversation after that.

When the food is paid for, it’s the first time you notice how empty the restaurant seems now that the rush hour of dinner has gone by. You two did spend a good amount of time talking, more than eating, for sure, but you seriously had no idea how long you two sat in this restaurant.

You smooth your hands over your dress and walk with Alex to the exit. You smile at what he’s saying. He continues to act friendly with you even after you’ve told him all about not wanting tonight to be anything. The girls were right, he is nice. He’s absolutely the definition of a nice person, but, still, he is not who you want.

He pushes the door open for you, and you thank him with a smile. You walk out, your eyes meet the dark skies and it is yet another proof of how long you two talked. Pulling your eyes away from the sky, the two of you stand on the porch, staring at the lit-up parking lot, way emptier than before.

“Do you have someone to give you a ride home?” Alex asks you, making you have to turn to face him.

“I do.” You say, making him smile and nod, “But, thank you.”

You nod at each other once, and your eyes go back to the parking lot, trying to find the car you’ve grown somewhat accustomed to.

“Is he driving her home, or what?” One of the girls squeals inside the car, startling Kristy and another one of the girls.

“He must be.” Kristy says, “She hasn’t texted us to come and get her yet.”

They watch as the two of you speak. The girls have no possible way of knowing what you’re saying, but they can always imagine it. None of them care to guess the right answer: the awkward goodbyes after a failed blind date.

Due to Kristy’s window being halfway open (since they were all dying in the overheating car over an hour ago), all of the girls are able to hear the sound of a not-so-distant car door closing. That doesn’t sound any alarms in their heads, but one of them does look out of the window. She can’t exactly see who the person is as they stand by the car for a while when locking the doors, but she stares. She stares at the dark figure and then back at you, not wanting to miss out on anything that you’re doing.

“Where the hell is he going?!” Kristy asks out loud, making all of the girls alarmed.

Alex has just waved at you and is finally going down the steps of the restaurant’s porch to walk over to his car. You two have extended goodbyes and wishes for a nice and safe drive home many times before one of you finally walked off.

The girls in the car stare silently at Alex disappearing in the dark parking lot, going ahead to find his car. They don’t have words to describe what just happened, as they were so sure that the date would work. They had spent weeks on this plan, to get you on a date with him and finally fall in love again. But now it all seems like it was for nothing.

You look down at your phone as you take steps closer to the stairs, and the girls all think the same thing without knowing. They’re expecting one of their phones to ring or vibrate with a message of you wishing for them to pick you up. They waited, and waited, for more than a minute, and all they felt was confusion when the message never came, and you already stored your phone back in your bag.

One of the girls now remembered the figure of the late customer, who had just walked out of his car. She has now looked in his direction again to find him missing from the parking spot, where only stays a car. She’s looking all around the parking lot, not entirely comfortable with not finding the figure of a man disappearing into the night as her best friend stands alone on a porch.

They all stare at you but that one girl. In their defense, they’re oblivious to the person altogether, let alone where they’ve gone now. You are looking around the parking lot when suddenly something catches your attention. Your head turns in the direction of that something, and a smile appears on your face. The girls don’t dare to move in the car as they wait to see what it is.

The dark figure reappears before the girl’s eyes, and it does right in front of you. She opens her mouth to speak, but she stops when she sees the way you smile at the person.

“Do you think that person’s her ride?” She is able to ask out loud, making all of the girls notice the new presence that has gotten your attention.

No one answers.

You speak some words while slowly walking over to the stairs of the restaurant, your smile never really disappears, but that doesn’t mean that the girls will ever be less alert. As you get to the stairs, finally, the figure steps closer to the light. A guy and none of the girls can see his face.

You stand by the top of the stairs, and he comes closer, his back to the girls’ car. You don’t walk down the steps, but he moves closer and closer. You go down one step, mid-sentence, and your hands come down to rest over his broad shoulders.

“Who the fuck…” The question hangs in the air of the silent car.

They watch as you stop talking and then suddenly tilt your head back in a laugh. They never ease up at the sight and are unmoving, unable to do so.

You go down one more step and, just like that, the man in front of you wraps his arms around your torso as you continue to chuckle more calmly now. Your bodies are glued to one another, and he’s pulling you off the stairs. Your hands stay by his shoulders as you hear him speak, and you are extremely focused on what he’s saying.

One of your hands moves from his shoulder to the back of his neck. The girls can barely see your face now as the man stands taller than you and still with his back to them, but they see the way you frown and smack the man’s shoulder at whatever he just told you.

A harsh gasp rips through the car’s silence as soon as the man just moves down and kisses you. Kristy and the girls who don’t dare look away expect you to hit him off or try to push him away, but that sight never comes. In fact, you kiss him back.

Kristy feels her heart ache at that. She’s your best friend for goodness sake, and she didn’t know about any of this. None of the girls knew about any of this. They all made this night for you because you supposedly never moved on after Aiden, yet still, you didn’t tell them why you never wanted this date in the first place. Let alone tell them that you had a boyfriend, or whatever the man is to you, this entire time.

This time, the silence in the car is all because no one dares to speak. No one dares to break the silence that has formed all around them as they continuously stare at you.

You separate from the kiss and suddenly push away from the man’s arms. The girls stand straighter at the sight. You’re still smiling, so it isn’t like you’re running from the man, and they all watch as you walk around him. You speak as you do so, looking at the man as if teasing him with your words as you do a perfect half-circle around him.

The man himself turns his head to follow your movements and as you stand behind him, they can tell from the way you stand that you’re preparing for something. Your interactions with this man are playful and innocent in their eyes, but they cannot look past the fact that you didn’t tell them anything.

That is when the man turns to face you and his face is lit by the street lights and the ones by the porch. The girls don’t register it right away, as if not noticing who it is at first, but that protection of oblivion only lasts until you do as you were preparing to. They watch as you look around for the man’s car and get ready to run from him and get there first. Again, it’s innocent and maybe a little childish, but your smile takes over your face as you begin to do it.

After dodging the man’s hold a few times and initiating this chase of who gets to the car first and if he can get to you before you even step to the other side of the road, the chase ends right as you try to make a run for it. You turn your back to him, and with the man’s arms wrapped around you, he lifts you off the ground before you can even dare to cross the road.

You squeal in a panic as he does so, so quickly, and that squeal comes in the form of a name. The name to the face the girls haven’t been able to process or acknowledge due to shock.

“Rafe! Do not-” The other words are lost in the midst of your giggles, and due to the silence all around the parking lot and Kristy’s open window, your scream traveled all the way inside the car.

Rafe holds you close to him as you let your head fall to his shoulder, defeated on your own game, and your chuckles don’t stop until he puts you back on the ground.

“Not fair.” You tell him, trying to calm down after getting scared the way you did.

Rafe snorts in front of you and begins to cross the road, finally. You notice his hand a little outstretched towards you, and you walk a little faster to keep up with him. Your hand holds onto his, and you make sure to intertwine your fingers before walking toward the car. Your other hand holds onto his arm, and you hug it to your chest.

You get to the car and let go of Rafe. He walks with you to your door, and when he opens it, you unknowingly get away from the glances of the girls. Before jumping into the car, you turn around and go up on your tippy toes to kiss Rafe one more time. He leans down to make it easier, and you’re lost in the kiss all over again.

In the girls’ car, they watch as you jump into the car, and Rafe Cameron closes the door before walking over to the driver’s side. By the time he drove away, the girls hadn't dared to speak once, and all of their bodies had been consumed by the negative emotions of repulsion, anger, and disgust. They’re not sure to whom the emotions are directed at. They don’t want to think that they could ever feel this way with you, but it becomes harder to admit that as the image of what they just saw replays in their minds.

Kristy, with her elbows resting on the center console of the car, scrubs her face as if to wipe away the memory, but her entire body twitches in nausea after watching what just happened.

After so many warnings, after knowing so much about what he has done, you still went against all advice she had ever given you. Never get close to Rafe Cameron. Never make eye contact with Rafe Cameron. Don’t ever let Rafe Cameron get interested in you, just be invisible in his home. Rafe Cameron hurts people. Rafe Cameron takes people to hospitals over his childish outrages. Rafe Cameron is no good. Rafe Cameron is bad news.

Uncovering her face, Kristy leans back in her seat to stare at the leather around her. The car is still deadly silent, and no one is looking at each other. At the center console, there’s the only thing that dares to make any noise: Kristy’s phone, vibrating with Ashley’s contact as she calls to know all about tonight's date.

DID YOU LIKE THIS??? PLS TELL ME YOU DID. This just had to happen at some point.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fic #outer banks #outer banks 3 #obx #rafe cameron obx #drew starkey #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

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ask-repeatedreincarnation · 3 months

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(The art is not mine, the lovely fan art is from @spookuzm 💜)

Hii- as you already probably know from my description and name probably, this is a ask blog of my fanfic Repeated Reincarnation! Please ask any questions that your curious about with the fic as I'll answer them myself!

The only character/person I'll accept you asking is me and the MC, aka Palin, as no other character are important.

Unless I add in Palin's future partner, Genesis, but him as a whole is quite the spoilers for the fanfic...

Note :

I am a MINOR, do NOT ask anything 18+, NFSW or anything related to it, I do not want any of these in my blog or any of my fanfics at all. Do not ask anything related to these or I will delete the ask or just plain ignore it.

I will not give detailed answers if it's spoilery to the fanfic, I apologize but I don't like spoiling anything related to Repeated Reincarnation.

I cannot draw, so please don't ask me to, I seriously can't draw at all, if you want me to write something, then simply ask what type of category you'd like. (I mostly do fluff and angst. Again, no smut, lemon or lime) and if you want it short or long in length.

Reminders :

If you want to ask something, please specify the person your talking about. Palin, or the creator?

Please don't be disappointed when I don't give you that much of an answer..I really don't want to spoil the fic.

READ the fanfic first, on wattpad, ao3 or quotev, it does not matter. Just please read the fanfic so you know what to ask and know what the characters personality is.

Again, no smut, 18+, NSFW related asks, this is my third warning.

I do NOT support incest, pedophilia, and whatever the hell some others are, DO NOT ASK ANYTHING RELATED TO THESE EITHER.

Please ask Palin (and me) politely, or at least don't be an asshole. I will most likely ignore your ask.

I am a real person behind this screen, do not forget that. Do not get mad if I don't answer your asks early, I am a student that's basically sleep deprived, so I may not see your asks much earlier.

Do not demand that I should do this, do that, or some other thing that YOU want me to do. I am not an object, or doll you can toy around. Be patient and understand WHY I'm doing this.

Anyways, that is all for now..I will open asks and submissions tomorrow since it's late at night for me.

Bye bye little starlings...💜💜

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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this is us ~ jjk | 1

you start to fall hard for jungkook.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: if you haven't read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 2 ~ back hugs and peppered kisses

chapter one: this is how you fall in love | wc: 5.4k warnings: kisses, teasing, jungkook is a horn-dog and is always up for sex with oc, jungkook gets an erection, jungkook teases oc for always (playfully) hitting him, memory of fingering, they're so in love it's nauseating but sweet

It was inevitable. You knew it would happen. Every cell in your body wanted to fight it. Fight the possibility of loving Jungkook even more than you already did. You were beginning to fall hard and fast. The small moments of back hugs and peppered kisses, the late-night runs to the convenience store, and the heated moments in the middle of the night, didn't help. The gentle whispers of sweet nothings, handwritten love notes, and the excitement of spontaneous adventures, were the beginnings of how you fell in love with an incredible man.

~ Three months after Yuna and Namjoon's wedding ~

"I want to take you out on a proper date. We haven't done that yet," Jungkook stated, opening the third pack of ramen to add to the pot on the stove.

Goodness, this boy can eat. You swore you had to restock your pantry every few days if he stayed over. Your grocery budget went up because of him.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter when you darted your eyes up from your computer screen, amused by how cute your boyfriend was. "You know I don't care about stuff like that, right? I'm perfectly fine with staying home."

You were a homebody and grew to love being by yourself. It was calming and peaceful, a great time to sit and think, especially through all the writing you needed to do. Although it was nice to go out every once in a while, you've known Jungkook for so long that you felt like you didn't need to 'date him' to get to know him.

"Yeah, but we didn't get to do the 'dating' thing. You kind of went straight to sucking my dick," he said with a smug smile. Then he ripped the next pack of ramen with his teeth.

That's four packs of ramen now.

You gasped. You couldn't believe the words coming out of Jungkook's mouth. "And whose fault is that?" you huffed.

A piece of the ramen bag stuck to his mouth, and he spat it out. "Uh, yours. You kissed me, remember?" He cocked his head to the side and grinned stupidly at his comment.

"I hate you."

He shook his head and smiled. "I highly doubt that. You love me."

You scowled and threw the pen that was next to you at him. He was right. You did kiss him first. Technically, it was his fault. He invited you out, sang a beautiful song, and slow danced with you. He knew exactly what he was doing when he texted you that night. Alright, you were also to blame for it, but it was mostly due to you being on the rebound and making yourself feel good.

Regarding his other comment, you liked Jungkook a lot, like a lot, a lot. But you didn't want to rush into saying anything you weren't ready for. You had said you loved him at Yuna's wedding, though you hoped he forgot about it since you were caught up in the heat of the moment.

Sometimes you wanted to repeat it, especially at the night's end when you were together in bed or on the phone. And you felt at times he tried to say it as well, but he probably felt your hesitancy because he hadn't heard you mutter those three words since the wedding.

"Okay then, where should we go on this date?" you asked curiously, wondering what kind of boyfriend he was. You've only known him as the bratty young boy, but not how he treated his girlfriends. And grand gestures or elaborate dates weren't your thing, and you were a low-key kind of gal.

"Mm, I have an idea." He glanced at you and smirked. "Wear something nice."

"How nice? Like cute carnival type date outfit or…" Your thoughts trailed off now, thinking if you had anything nice to wear. It's been a long time since you've gone shopping for new clothes. Was your closet too 'millennial' feeling? What were the latest trends? What are young people wearing nowadays? What does Jungkook even like a woman to look like? These were the questions you were pondering.

"Remember when you came to open mic night? I really liked that outfit." His nose and shoulder scrunch gave away his excitement.

It was the night when you were vulnerable and susceptible to compliments from handsome men. Jungkook being one of them and had Jin say something to you, you'd be in a completely different situation.

Thoughts were running through your mind as you tried to remember your outfit. Ah yes, the black bodysuit, wide-leg pants, and black heels. There wasn't anything particular in mind when you chose that outfit. It's funny that Jungkook loved it.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's your favorite outfit?"

He nodded furiously, indicating a hard yes. "Noona, you were gorgeous that night. It was a mixture of sexy and sophisticated. It didn't show too much but just enough. I'm getting all tingly just thinking about it."

"Tingly?" you laughed. "So now I know what you like." Well, that meant you needed to do some more shopping. Not that you needed to impress him, but more of boosting your confidence and ego, and maybe a bit for him. There were still times when you felt 'old' when you were with him, whether it was things he was talking about or slang he was using. You swore Urban Dictionary was your best friend.

His ramen finished cooking, and he grabbed two chopsticks to try it. You were watching him as he slurped the ramen. His brows furrowed, suggesting it was indeed heavenly. Eating angrily was a cute habit you noticed when the two of you ate, and you didn't want to point it out if he caught himself doing it and would stop this ultra-cute habit.

"Is it good?" you asked, hoping he'd give you a bite. The growls in your stomach were beginning to grumble louder and louder by the minute.

He groaned in delight. "Oh–so good." He turned off the stove and continued slurping a mouthful of ramen as he came and sat next to you. He was such a boy, eating right out of the pot.

"Are you gonna share?" you asked with a pout, trying to give him the saddest puppy eyes.

He didn't budge. Instead, he moved the pot of ramen away from you, trying to hide it. "Noona, this is all for me. Make your own food."

"Kook! You made four packs of ramen!"

"Yeah, and?" He continued eating with no intention of giving you any.

"YAH! Share!" you cried, trying to take a bite of the ramen, but he kept you at arm's length, chuckling as his mouth was full. You wrapped your hands around his slim waist, tickling him so he'd give in.

"Noona!" he cried out, trying not to spill the ramen. "Okay, okay." Finally, giving into you and turning around to provide you with a bite.

You grinned, knowing he couldn't resist you.

You went shopping for a new wardrobe with Hyunie, your colleague and friend. She was younger, and you knew she'd help you in any way possible. You even looked up the new trends for the season to get some inspiration. The two of you spent all day looking for clothes and shoes. You wanted to look like you belonged with him, despite the age gap between you and Jungkook.

Everything you saw in the stores didn't feel like you. All the trends you saw leaned back into 90s fashion, making you chuckle. You supposed fashion loves to come full circle. The first thing you picked up was a cropped button-down sweater.

"This is so tiny. If I try to reach for something, my boobs will fall out." You put it back on the rack, shuffling through the following few things hanging.

"I don't think Jungkook will mind," Hyunie teased, continuing to browse the racks. She picked up a tank top. "How are you supposed to wear this?" It was a one-shoulder tank top, but there was a gaping hole. "Is your boob supposed to go here?" She stuck her hand through it and laughed.

You took the hanger in your hand and examined it, then also put your hand through it. Then a lightbulb went off in your head. "Ah! I think the hole goes towards the back." Jeez, what are people wearing these days?

Hyunie mouthed an "oh," and she took the hanger from you to hang it back up. "I wouldn't even wear half of this stuff. I don't have the guts."

"You're telling me that," you commented, unsure if you'd find anything you'd love.

After a few hours of shopping and trying many different styles, you returned to what you were most comfortable with. The two of you passed by a store that suited your style more, which you liked to call 'effortless chic' if that was even a thing. It was a mixture of comfy and casual and mostly looked like you rolled out of bed but could turn heads.

You chose a few items to try on. The first was a simple black slip dress, and it was basic, but you figured it was always good to have a little black dress in your closet for special occasions.

"Wow, you look hot." She couldn't stop eyeing you from head to toe and whistling as you modeled for her.

"Are you sure? Isn't this too much? My boobs are practically hanging out." You cupped your breasts, meticulously analyzing the dress you had on.

"It's the perfect combination of sexy and refined. It doesn't give away too much but just enough. That's what you want, right?"

You sighed, thinking about what she had just said. You were never the type to wear short and tight dresses or expose too much of your body. And Jungkook said he loved the outfit you wore on open mic night, which didn't show anything except maybe your shoulders. So you hope you have chosen the right outfit for your first date.

Jungkook was very secretive about your 'first date.' He wanted to keep everything a surprise. Would it be dinner and a movie? Or would it be something wild and crazy, like bungee jumping? You scratched the second one and thought about how he wanted you to dress 'nicely.' There's no way he'd make you do something extreme, would he? Then again, it's Jungkook, and he loved living on the edge. Another thought crossed your mind, "Oh god, he's gonna make us get matching tattoos or piercings or something." The last idea would be alright, except for the needles and the matching part. You were curious if you'd ever get matching tattoos with someone, no matter how long you've been with them.

After looking at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes, you wondered if the outfit was too much or just enough. The sheer black long-sleeve blouse paired with a lacy black bra underneath screamed desperate in your eyes. If you saw someone else walking down the street in this outfit, they'd probably pull it off with confidence, but you weren't sure if you had that same attitude wearing it.

"This is as good as it'll get," you sighed, turning to check out your backside, debating if you had time to change into something else.

Before you knew it, you heard the door buzz. You put on your heels and quickly ran over to the door. A deep breath left you as you tried to calm yourself. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You've known Jungkook all your life, and there was nothing to be scared of. It was Jungkook, only this time, he was Jungkook, your boyfriend.

You opened the door to find a bouquet of red roses held by your cute bunny boyfriend. You adored his nose scrunch when he was excited, and boy, was he excited.

"Hi," he uttered with a gentle smile and a glimmer of sparkle in his eyes.

"Hi," you replied with a wide grin spanning from ear to ear.

"These are for you," he said, handing them to you. "I realized I didn't know what flowers you liked, so I went with roses. I hope you like them."

To be honest, you hated roses. You thought they were very unimaginative and expensive for no reason. You found other flowers more beautiful but didn't have the heart to tell him. He was so cute and sweet; you didn't want to ruin the moment.

"I love them, Jungkookie. They're beautiful. Oh--and I really love peonies," you said, lying through your teeth while trying to throw in what you liked so he could remember it.

"Ah, okay. Got it, and I got it locked in my brain. Noona loves peonies." He pretended to take a mental note of it.

You told him to come in so you could get the roses in a vase. While filling up the vase, you noticed his look for tonight. It was simple, like he walked straight out of a magazine. His hair was parted off to the side, it was getting long, starting to hit the apple of his cheeks, but you loved it at this length. His black shirt had a few buttons undone, just enough to get a glimpse of his toned chest. He was sex on legs, and it was hard not to ogle him. And, of course, he was wearing tight denim jeans that hugged those delicious thunder thighs of his. Fuck, he looked so good.

"What?" he asked with an amused look on his face.

"Nothing…" you mumbled, trying not to be so obvious, being very attracted to your boyfriend.

"You're undressing me with your eyes. I can see it." He teased, walking into the kitchen, with one elbow leaning on the counter. Watching you from head to toe, putting the roses in the vase, not wanting to miss a single detail about you.

"Shut up, Kook." He wasn't wrong, though. You didn't even want to leave for the date at this point, and you'd rather have him fuck you relentlessly over the counter. "And what about you?"

His attention was finally on your eyes again and not your chest. "You've been staring at my goodies since I opened the door."

He scoffed. "Hmm, well, they're a nice set of knockers." His eyes moved down to your chest, and he smirked, "I have to appreciate whenever those babies are out."

You used your arms to cover yourself, now feeling ashamed of your outfit. You may be in over your head about this outfit. Could you pull it off?

Jungkook scrunched his nose and lightly chuckled at you. He held his hands for you to take them and pulled you close to his frame. His arms now wrapped around your waist, and your hands settled on his chest. "Are you getting self-conscious?"

You gave him a pout and nodded as you looked up into his honey-brown doe eyes. But now, feeling dumb for even doubting yourself and having him reassure you. You weren't sure what it was…why you always felt insecure, and he didn't make you feel insecure, and it was more of you not feeling good enough to be him and why he chose you of all people.

"Noona. You. Are. Insanely. Gorgeous," he stated in between, pressing kisses into each of your cheeks. He let the last one linger for a little bit longer. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against yours, gently nudging your noses together. "And sexy and beautiful, and you drive me completely insane. Do you know that?"

A small smile left your lips. "Mmhm, I know. I can feel how insane I drive you." His bulge pressed firmly against your stomach. You resisted doing anything that would hinder you from leaving the apartment tonight, but you couldn't help and tease him. You patted his crotch gently. "Easy bunny. We have a date to get to," you said, giving him a small peck.

He whined when you dragged him by the hand, heading towards the door. "You're the one who wanted to go out on a date."

Jungkook drove to an unexpected location. It was in a charming neighborhood. He slowed the car down, stopping in a random spot on the street. Nothing was indicating a restaurant or any public place with crowds of people.

"What are you doing?" you asked looking around.

"Can you grab something for me? It's in the glove compartment."

You did as he asked and opened the compartment, revealing a silky black scarf. You grabbed it, cocking your head to the side as you held it up, "Um, what is this?"

He bit his lip before chuckling lightly. "Put it on."

You became flustered, almost dropping it. "I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"Please…" he begged with a sparkle in his eyes.

You sighed before reluctantly tying the blindfold over your eyes. "I swear to god Jungkookie. You're the only person I'd do things like this for."

"Ooh, is this a kink you have?" He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You could hear the excitement in his voice. "You're pushing it, Jeon Jungkook," you warned. Completely in the dark, not knowing what would happen next or where he was taking you.

Jungkook giggled before uttering a 'thank you, Noona', putting the car back into drive. He intertwined his hand with yours, brought it up to his lips, and pressed several kisses against the back of your hand. You let out a small smile, wondering what the hell this man was up to. He definitely kept you on your toes, that's for sure.

A few minutes later, the car rolled to another stop. He told you to 'hold on' as he came around to open your door. He held your hand to help you step out of the car. He stood behind you, asking if you were ready, and you nodded as he took off the blindfold.

"Jungkook, where are we? You didn't buy this house, did you?" you asked, mouth agape, staring at this insanely gorgeous house in front of you.

He wrapped his arms around your frame, and you held onto his warm embrace. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he said, kissing the nape of your neck. He could smell the citrus-infused perfume you put on and inhaled your scent.

"It's gorgeous. It must have cost a fortune." Still astonished that your boyfriend has a place as impressive as this one. He was doing well for someone his age, and you had to give him that.

He took your hand and led you to the front door. When he opened it, you let out a cackle because you realized it wasn't his house, and it was Jin's. A gigantic framed photo of himself decorated the entryway and a few other pictures of him and his family.

You smacked Jungkook in the arm. "Yah–this isn't your house!"

He snickered because you were highly gullible and would probably believe anything he told you. "Gah, you're so cute," he stated, proceeding to boop your nose.

The two of you made your way through the magnificent house. You couldn't get over that this was Jin's place and was exquisite and spacious. The two of you stood in the dining room looking out into the backyard, which had a fantastic deck and a nice grassy area with a pool.

"I never said this was my place. You assumed." He scrunched his nose and chuckled. "Come on, this way."

Jungkook guided you around the house, weaving in and out of the hallways. You were curious and couldn't help but peek into a few of his rooms. You didn't know him well, only that he was well-off and apparently loved himself very much to hang a photo in the entryway. You supposed it took a lot of confidence for someone to do that.

Jungkook led you up a steep flight of stairs, and you couldn't help but stare at his perky ass, so you gave it a good smack for lying to you. He quickly turned around and glared at you. "Yah–Noona."

You giggled. "What? I couldn't help it. It was staring right at me."

He let you go first when you got to the top of the stairs. But before he opened the door, he asked you to close your eyes, not wanting to spoil everything.

A faint breeze tousled your hair as he helped you step outside. With your eyes still closed, he held onto your waist, guiding you to your destination, then a sudden hint of warmth filled your presence.

"Can I open my eyes now?" you pleaded. This was already the second time you were blindfolded tonight.

He hummed in response. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself on a rooftop deck overlooking the city of Seoul. The view itself was to die for. Jungkook went all out. If this was only for one date, you wondered what else he did for others. How would he top this?

There were candles everywhere, surrounding a table on the floor with a chilled bottle of wine and pasta ready for the two of you. Pillows and blankets were included since the nights in Seoul dropped in temperature. Then you noticed the plethora of peonies outlining the rooftop.

You gasped and turned to him. "You said you didn't know my favorite flowers."

"I might have told a little white lie…and I kind of, sort of know your best friend."

"So you knew I didn't like roses?"

He laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face when I gave them to you."

You smacked him on the chest. Goddamn it, Yuna. What else did she tell Jungkook about?

"Noona–you're a very abusive girlfriend, and I don't appreciate it," he teased as he crossed his arms and turned away from you. "You keep saying you hate me, hit me, steal my food. I wonder if this is how you treat all of your past boyfriends," he added, still looking in the other direction.

You walked over and stood before him, gazing into those honey-brown eyes. His perfect pink lips were so plush, just waiting to be kissed. Your eyes dart back and forth between his eyes before uttering, "I'm sorry."

His brows furrowed, entirely confused by your apology. "What? No, Noona, I'm just teasing. You don't have anything to be sorry for." He let his arms down and brought them to your waist, pulling you in closer to him.

"I'm sorry...because I never told you before getting involved with me. I love to hit my boyfriend, steal their food, and sometimes I'll even take their clothes and wear them. I might make my boyfriend buy very expensive things. And I could hog all the blankets in the same bed." You confessed to him with a slight smirk. "I hope all of that is okay with you, boyfriend."

His eyes lit up, and his mouth turned into a smile, showing off that bunny smile you loved so much. "I'm more than happy to do all of those and more. I'd do anything for you, you know that?"

You tiptoed, reaching up and gently pressing your lips into his, smiling as you pulled away. "Mm, good to know." You ran your hand through his hair, thinking about the sweet things he's done over the past few months. How lucky were you to have someone like Jungkook? He was the complete opposite of U-jin. Thank God. He was sweet, thoughtful, funny, caring, and so fucking delicious to look at.

"Shall we go on our date?"

You hummed in response, ready to be surprised by your boyfriend with whatever he had planned for the evening.

A lovely pasta dinner was prepared. Apparently, Jin did all the cooking. You found it awfully nice of him to let Jungkook borrow his house and even have him cook for the two of you. They must be close friends if he trusted Jungkook enough to let him have his date here.

The conversations throughout the night were silly and lighthearted, busy reminiscing about the past of the two of you growing up. You were reminded that you didn't get to hear much about his time away in California, and you only heard bits and pieces when Yuna caught you up on him. To be fair, he didn't update Yuna that often either.

"Okay, tell me about California because I don't know what you did out there."

"Just the usual…school, read, study, party…" he answered, groaning with satisfaction at every bite of pasta and bread. Not really caring about his response to you.

"Ouh, you partied, huh?" you said, "I guess you never got into trouble if you never called me."

His cheeks were filled with an overabundance of pasta, and he looked like a chipmunk hoarding his food. He gazed in your direction and shook his head. He finally swallowed his food and spoke, "Noona, I got into plenty of trouble," he smirked, "I just didn't want you to tell my sister."

"Yah--I can keep a secret," you huffed at him.

"I got arrested once." He was still stuffing his face with no intention of stopping.

You choked on your wine, almost spitting it out. "You got arrested?! Who bailed you out? I told you to always call me if you cannot tell Yuna! I swear to God, Jungkook, we should have kept a better eye on you. What if—"

"Noona, I'm kidding," he interrupted. "See how gullible you are?" Chuckling as he sipped on his glass of wine.

It took everything in you not to throw your shoe at him. What a little rascal, a cute one at that.

"Boyfriend--tell me something real, please..." you begged him.

He sighed. "I did do what I said, not the getting arrested part, but my time in California was mostly school, studying, and hanging out with friends."

"Did you have a girlfriend out there?" you asked him hesitantly because you hadn't had this conversation yet. He obviously knew about U-jin, but you didn't know about his past relationships. Previously, he claimed to have done many things with women, but you needed to find out for yourself.

"Mm, I guess I had a girlfriend if you could call her that."

"How long were you guys together?"

"We were on and off for a year," he mumbled and nodded, still thinking about his answer.

"Oh…" you acknowledged. "Was she the same age as you?" You were curious to know his preference.

"She was," he paused, trying to remember, "two years older than me, I believe?"

Your heart dropped when he answered. Another older woman…was he always into older women? Is that why he was into you? Did she teach him all the things that he knew now? You hoped the expression on your face didn't give anything away, but it must have.

"What's wrong? You can tell me." He finally put down his fork to give you his attention.

"Did you--love her?"

He thought about his answer for a moment. "I don't know if what we had is called 'love.' We had a lot of fun together, but she didn't want a long-term relationship."

"Oh, but you did?"

"I don't know, you can call me old school. I just pictured something different when I had my first girlfriend, you know?"

You nodded in agreement. That made sense. To want butterflies when you saw the person you liked, to have your heart race when they walked in the room, that was how you felt when you had your first boyfriend.

"Anything else you want to know?"

You smiled and shook your head. You didn't need to know anything else about her. Otherwise, you'd be in your head the whole time, speculating about Jungkook and this girl.

He leaned in over the table a little bit. "…can I ask you something?"

"Go for it."

He cleared his throat. "What pet names do you like? Or should I continue to call you Noona?"

You bit your lower lip, thinking about your answer. "Mm, I don't know? I didn't use many pet names in my previous relationships."

"How about angel?"

You cringed at the pet name. "No."

He gave a half-smile. "How about princess?"

Your eyes widened, almost gagging. "I--no, nope, absolutely not. Do not call me shit like that. I will choke you."

He clapped and let out a hearty laugh. "Noted. No angel or princess, but you're into choking. Got it."

"Kook–" you cried in annoyance. You were so close to taking off your shoe and chucking it at him.

"Kidding, not kidding," he chuckled. "Okay, how about babe, baby?"

"Babe--baby--hey babe…" you muttered and nodded, thinking you could get used to him calling you those names. "Yeah, yeah, I think those will work."

"Good. Now, onto the next portion of our date, babe."

He stood up, brushing off crumbs that settled onto his jeans. He held out his hand, waiting for yours. You took it willingly, excited to see what else he had planned for the rest of the night. You quite enjoyed dinner and loved that he didn't go over the top, minus the excess of peonies surrounding you. Other than that, it was exactly what you wanted, something low-key.

He led you back into the house, down the steep flight of stairs, and into the backyard, where lights were strung across from the roof's edge to the fence. You wondered how you missed this setup earlier, and maybe you were too busy fawning over Jin's house to notice. Jungkook guided you towards the circle of fluffy blankets and pillows facing a screen and projector on the ground.

You sat against a slew of pillows, excitedly staring at the popcorn, chips, and chocolate. Then your eyes widened as you spotted your favorite candy: Sour Patch Watermelon. When you grabbed the bag, a note fell out. It read, "Please don't have sex anywhere in my house. Kay? Thanks. - Jin." You softly chuckled.

"What's that?" Jungkook asked as he came over, hands filled with more snacks.

"Oh, Jin left a note asking us not to have sex anywhere in his house."

"Well…he didn't say anything about doing it outside. I think we're good to go." He wiggled his eyebrows and gave a devilish grin.

"Stop, we're not doing anything inappropriate at Jin's place. He asked us not to."

"You didn't stop me when we were at Hyunie's housewarming party."

You chucked a handful of popcorn at him.

The only thing you could remember from her party was trying not to make a sound as you sat on his lap. His hand began to slide in further and further up your skirt. Luckily, a tablecloth hid the naughty act Jungkook was doing underneath. He continued smiling at everyone and even kissed your shoulder as his fingers moved aside your lace underwear, slowly circling your clit. You bit down on your bottom lip to try and stifle your squeal but failed. Even Lee Sora glared your way, wondering what you were doing.

He put the rest of the snacks down and cuddled up next to you, laying his head on your chest. "I know you love it, babe," he grinned as he gazed into your eyes.

God, he really was so bad for you, but at the same time, he made you feel so alive. It was easy to forget your worries and troubles in moments like these, and your only focus was on him and him only.

You stroked his hair and softly brushed your thumb against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut at your touch, feeling delighted by it. A soft smile left his lips before you leaned down to press your lips against his.

And that's when you knew you couldn't hold in the feelings that had been intensifying for the past few months. Tonight's date left you speechless that a man like him would be eager to make you feel infinitely loved, adored, and cherished. How did you get so lucky? How could you ever doubt giving him all of you?

When you pulled away, you let go of the fear of not fully embracing him and everything he encompassed. The ache in you irrevocably released when you tenderly cupped his cheek, gazing into an endless galaxy that was held in his eyes. A gentle smile swept across his face, "What?" he asked softly.

That's when you uttered those three words he had longed to hear, "I love you."

✨ next ~ back hugs and peppered kisses

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #fic: this is us #jungkook drama #jungkook romance #jungkook angst #jungkook noona

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unseededtoast · 5 months

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Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

(Preview of this series. Joel Miller x F!oc)

First part of series here. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve written.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"See those birds up there? We call 'em turtle doves around here." My eyes glance up to the old telephone wires where I see a pair of birds sitting next to one another.

"Those are just pigeons." Joel dismisses, clearly not interesting in a pair of cooing birds. Ignoring his bluntness, his brother continues talking to me, his breath visible in the cold air.

"Do you know what they represent?" His question isn't one I was anticipating, and I shake my head, not knowing the answer. Sure, I've heard these birds sing every morning, their coos are familiar and remind me of a better time; but I didn't know they symbolized anything.

"No, I don't." I add on, eyes still locked onto the birds. Tommy cracks a smile and stops walking.

"Turtle doves are a symbol of a perfect union. If one of 'em dies, the other might die from a broken heart. See, they find a mate and then they never take another one, they stay completely devoted to the other as long as they live." He says, glancing between Joel and I, before continuing his way through the snow-covered town.

The birds coo out again as we walk on, and I take one last glance at them. It's kind of poetic, the way those birds love one another. They love so deeply that they're incapable of taking another mate, so devoted that should one perish, the other may die of a broken heart.

As we walk on through the town, I find myself catching glimpses of Joel out of the corner of my eye. And as I appreciate all of him, I find that maybe it's not such a crazy sentiment, to love so deeply, to be so completely devoted, that should you lose the other, you might perish.

And after everything we went through and endured together, I know that I shall remain completely and utterly devoted to Joel Miller, and God forbid something happens to him. For I fear I may die of a broken heart.

#joel miller #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #joel miller x oc #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller series #tlou hbo #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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jadededge · 6 months

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Tear You Apart | Ch.3

Pairing: GOT7 x OC

Genre: Demon/Mafia AU, Romance, Smut

Rating: M

Summary: Jaebeom and Yugyeom are "running an errand" when the most delectable scent that he ever smelled hit Yugyeom like a ton of bricks. Yugyeom stops JayB and soon he smells it. They look across the street and see the her. They stalk her for awhile and finally get the chance to manufacture a meet with her.

Wattpad | AO3 (will likely always update these 2 places first)

Navigation: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Despite their busy and immortal lives, the boys try to have dinner together as often as possible. Gathering around the large oak table in their dining room, they share laughs and stories of the day. Relaxing and unwinding as a family.

"So, maknaes," Jaebeom starts. "I hear you had to provide some backup on Canal. How did that go?"

"We went to see Selah. I'm so sorry," Youngjae immediately folds and bows his head, hoping to be spared.

Bam sucks his teeth. "Youngjae, what the fuck man?"

"You did what?" Jaebeom asks calmly. Too calm.

The sound of silverware hitting plates echoed in the now quiet room.

"Aw shit, boys, why did you do that?" Mark asks.

"We only wanted to see her." Yugyeom adds with a pout. "We didn't even talk to her." He says leaning towards Youngjae.

Jinyoung must've caught that because he immediately followed up. "Bam. What about you?"

"Whatever. I talked to her. And I got her number."

All the older brothers sigh. Jaebeom continues to look. His chin starts to protrude.

"Son, why did you do that when we have her number?" Mark asked.

"I'm sorry, were we going to start texting her and tell her we looked up everything about her beforehand?" He laid it out. "I'm playing the boyfriend game." He leans back, looking proud of himself.

Jaebeom was pissed, but he was trying not to show it. He had a plan, and this... He stands, pushing his chair back to leave. "I'm going out."

"Either you've messed up so badly that he needs to go prepare to send you back or..." Jackson pauses. "Actually, I don't know what else he could be doing. Nice knowing you, Bam. I'll see you in 50 years."

Jinyoung chimes in with a disapproving tone, "You do know Jackson went to meet her as well? What will she think? We're meant to be playing this smart, and you've gone and added another complication to the situation. Yeah, Jaebeom should send you back."

"I fucked up, huh?" Bam says, hanging his head.

Mark, though known for his temper, is actually quite gentle with his brothers. Particularly the younger ones, and tries to comfort them. "Did you fuck up? Yes. But it will be okay. JB won't send you back."

"He might strangle you, though." Jackson says he is taking a bite of his food.

Mark gives him a 'stop that' look.

"What? Bammie, I invited Selah to the club. How do we explain to her that out of pure coincidence, she met both of us on the same day and that we know each other? You might have to miss the opening."

Bam lets out a puff of air ready to protest.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Jinyoung says. "You three will not be at the opening."

The younger ones begin to protest. Jinyoung holds his hand up and says, "Save it. This is perfect. Perhaps Jaebeom won't murder you if we can salvage this."

_____________________________________________________________

The weekend arrives, and everybody is a bundle of nerves. After adjusting plans, the boys feel like they're actually in a better place. Feeling that perhaps it would be easier to introduce her to four of them versus all seven.

The maknaes are on warehouse duty for the night, and they couldn't have been more sour about it.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into going with you. Now look at me." Youngjae pouts, looking into the distance.

Bam rolls his eyes and says, "Well, you hardly put up a fight at a gentle suggestion."

Yugyeom chuckles a bit. "You did come along pretty easily. We should just be happy we didn't get banished."

"Valid point. But I want to meet her now." Youngjae says.

Yugy juts his lip out, "Me too."

"Yeah she's great. Glad I talked to her when I did." Bam says proudly.

The other two side eye him.

_____________________________________________________________

Selah arrives at the club accompanied by her friend Brianca. She's feeling good about how she looks. The little black dress she has on is her favorite among the many in her closet. The tiny straps sit upon her glittering shoulders. The bodice fits tight on her chest with a side split that causes the material to lay nicely over her ass. Matched with a flattering pair of heels that elongate her legs and strap around her ankles is giving her a confidence boost. Not to mention, she smelled amazing.

She's hoping to see Jackson. Bam hasn't texted her. Which made her a bit sad, as she was hoping he would. But she figured she would at least have a good time, get her mind off the week, and look good if for nobody but herself

"Girl, this club is nice!" Brianca says to Selah. "And you said he's the owner?"

"That's what he said. So I'm not sure I'll easily bump into him." Selah responds by surveying the area.

"Let's get a drink!" Brianca suggests.

At the bar, Brianca has already been approached by a couple of guys and is chatting one up. She has a very inviting aura, so it's no surprise she's already deep in conversations.

At one point she leans over to Selah, "omg girl. This is that guy I told you about. That I went out with a couple of weeks ago." "The one with the.." Selah wiggles her brows.

"Yes him." Brianca exclaims trying not to let him hear.

Selah chuckles, "well it looks like you're in for a wild night."

"Here's hoping." Brianca cheers with her friend and turns back to her presumed date for the evening.

As Selah is enjoying her cocktail, she feels a gentle touch on her shoulder that sends shivers throughout her body. Looking to her left, she sees Jackson. Managing her reaction, she doesn't smile too hard. "Jackson, hi."

"Selah, you made it." He's grinning from ear to ear. He takes a second to look her up and down. Without realizing it, he's licking his lips. "You look amazing."

This causes her to blush hard and look away briefly. "Thank you. You look great yourself, and your club is amazing."

"Thank you. I spotted you and wanted to be sure I had a chance to speak while things were going smoothly."

He needed to get her away from her friend and up to the private room. He can tell she cares about her and won't want to leave her alone or unsafe. But it appears luck was on his side.

"Brianca." Selah is turning to get her friend's attention to introduce her to Jackson. "This is Ja-."

But she's being lead to the dance floor by the guy she was chatting with. She looks back and smiles big at her friend. Quickly surveying the guy next to Selah she gives her a 'go get em' look.

"Well I was going to introduce you but nevermind I guess." She laughs.

Jackson sighs internally with relief, "No worries, we can meet later. She looks like a good time."

"Oh she's a blast in a glass. She'll be entertained for hours."

"In that case, would you like me to show you around?" Jackson asks as he holds his hand out for her.

"Sure. I'd like that, we sort of b-lined to the music, so I haven't seen the rest."

He leads her through the crowd and back toward the foyer. The place is actually quite large with a few different areas. One being the bigger bar and dance floor area they just left. Jackson shows her around the bottom floor. Even showing her a few behind the scene places before leading her into a lounge area. It's decorated in gold, with soft lighting and slow music, this makes for a nice area to chat.

"One of my brothers designed this room. He thought it would be a good idea to add an area that was much less chaotic than the traditional club atmosphere." Jackson explained.

"Oh you have a brother?" Selah asks.

"Yes, six actually." He leads her to the bar to order himself a drink. "Would you like anything?"

"Whatever you're having. Unless it's vodka." She makes a disgusting face.

Jackson chuckles and signals to the bartender, "please send over two glasses of Hennessy and ice. Thanks T."

"You got it boss." The bartender responds.

Jackson turns his attention to Selah, "Come, let's have a seat."

Settling in, Jackson takes this time to get a really good look at her. She's perfect. They begin a back and forth conversation that flows with ease. He asks her questions about herself that he already knows the answers to, but he loves hearing her talk, so this isn't a problem.

She asks about his business endeavors and he explains to her how he owns this a few other nightclubs. He mentions the corporation that his family runs, not the illegal things, obviously.

"So you have 6 brothers. That had to be hectic growing up." Selah comments.

"You could say that again. We're not exactly blood brothers, more very close friends, but we're brothers in just about every other way. We sort of came together at different times but we've been together ever since." She's listening intently. Jackson hasn't even used his gifts to any degree and she's already hooked on his every word. "Three of them are here now. I was hoping to introduce you actually. They've been dying to meet you."

"Oh, you've told them about me?" She's shocked, they only met briefly. "And you want me to meet them?"

He smiles and grabs her hand, gently caressing it. "Of course, we tell each other everything. So when I met a gorgeous woman, I told them immediately."

She was a bit hesitant but the moment Jackson touches her, she gets those same shivers. Being near Jackson, she finds herself alot more willing to go along with just about anything he says. Especially when he touches her.

She blushes, "Okay, sure."

He beams at her, "You're going to love them."

"I should text my friend and let her know."

This irritates Jackson. But he hides his displeasure. "Sure, no problem. "

He needs her alone and he didn't want to manipulate her to do it but this is becoming tedious. How do normal people live like this.

"Oh, she actually messaged to say she left with that guy. I must've missed it. I guess i'm all yours." Selah explains.

"Perfect." Jackson stands and extends his hand to help her up.

_____________________________________________________________

Leading her out of the lounge and through the club to the stairs, Selah feels lightheaded. She feels as if she's walking to another world. The decor is also darker upstairs. The walls are a blood red velvet with black damask patterning. The lighting is low and the music from downstairs is faded and becomes more faint the deeper they walk.

"Continuing the tour," Jackson starts. "This top floor has a few private rooms that special guests can use, as well as the offices."

He stops at a door at the end of the hall and on the other side, Selah knows deep down, everything will change once she steps in. Jackson opens the door and gestures for her to enter.

The room is spacious, continuing the same dark motif, but the colors are a darker green and black with gold accents. There's a full-sized bar and and lounge area with a large window across the way for a view of the entire dance floor from above.

And scattered about the room are three of the finest men Selah has ever seen, apart from Jackson. It nearly takes her breath away. They are dressed in finely tailored suits, like Jackson, and they have this something about them she can't quite put her finger on. Maybe this was a mistake. She thinks.

Jackson places his hand on the small of her back and moves her further into the room, "Selah, these are three of my brothers." He points to one at the bar with a short haircut and a dazzling smile that warms her heart. "This is Mark, the oldest."

"Hello gorgeous, lovely to meet you." He finishes making his drink and comes to settle in a chair next to the couch.

"And this absolute cutie..." pointing to other one with a short haircut. His lips grab her attention and she can't help but stare at them. He chuckles slightly and bites his bottom lip. She had to stop her knees from giving out. Did he do that on purpose. "...is Jinyoung."

He rolls his eyes, "Could you not introduce me that way." He gives her a smile staring directly in her eyes making her melt.

"Why? Is he not adorable Selah?" Jackson turns to ask her. She blushes from being put on the spot. Jackson laughs. "And lastly but certainly not least, this is Jaebeom. He is our leader."

Calling this man gorgeous would be an understatement. With longer hair styled perfectly sitting across his neck. Selah couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to run her fingers through it. She's cursing herself for how hard she is crushing on her crush's brothers.

He nods her direction. "Nice to meet you Selah, you can call me Jay B."

Her head swims. "Nice to meet you all"

"Come let's sit." Jackson moves them to a loveseat next to Jaebeom and across from Mark. Jinyoung has his eyes trained on her.

All four of them are drawing her in, with their confidence and captivating aura. But just beyond that is something tugging at her, whispering danger. She's watching herself wade further into the waters. What is happening...

Tags: @openup-yourmind

#kpop fanfic #got7 smut #got7 jaebeom #got7 fanfic #jb got7 #jinyoung #got7 fanfiction #got7 jb #got7 yugyeom #got7 mark #got7 youngjae #kpop fanfiction #fanfic #romance fanfiction #ao3feed #wattpad

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