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#someone needs to hold me down before i start writing paragraphs oh god.
caus34concern · 4 months
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boyfs are so codependent in a yuri way
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1uvtae · 2 months
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i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook
★ word count: 10k- yay!
★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!
★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.
★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!
enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??
do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!
this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.
you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.
but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)
this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening. 
when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.
blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest. 
you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!
you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. plus, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.
he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well. 
but on the other hand…
he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.
you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.
oh, the long, dark night.
after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.
when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face. 
thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex. 
thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up. 
after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number. 
you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is. 
once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.
on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.
you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?” 
your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name. 
after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots. 
continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”
you moved, or did you come back?
just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface. 
did he quit his job?
“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back” 
although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.
yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”
you: i think i saw him recently
you: he’s still so fine 
yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week
you: yes please, i’m free every night this week
yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.
you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?
yerin: i know you way too well
yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner
you: hm
yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.
you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.
to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.
huh? be prepared for what?
when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.
you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him. 
yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.” 
you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin,  then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”
(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)
you hope it’s not the second option.
the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.
“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile. 
you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass. 
you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.
the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.
after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.
that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.
after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.
taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.
yerin: jungkook’s here
you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond. 
y/n: huh? why is he there?
yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours
yerin: u coming?
you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.
yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering
hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-
yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him
yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged
yerin: not his gf
yerin: u still have a chance yk!!
you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table. 
just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.
having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex)  might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.
oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole. 
but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?
every cloud has a silver lining.
and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”
yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”
he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.
all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.
judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.
jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.
you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”
he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.
jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window. 
the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.
jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again. 
he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage. 
jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.
he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!
you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand. 
it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.
he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.
even bring able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.
jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.
by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.
he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”
your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.
jungkook: “y/n?”
his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.
jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.
and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.
this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.
he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!
but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch. 
he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.
considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones. 
you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you. 
the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.
jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night. 
honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.
painful, very painful.
it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch. 
jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?! 
you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n. 
if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.
but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him? 
and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.
this can be a fun game to play.
you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.
you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up. 
jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting. 
if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?
after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?” 
his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance. 
you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution. 
feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”
not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door. 
wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.
you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.
although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.
y/n: can i pick bam up from yours
he replied almost instantly: you are?
you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n
then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”
you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning. 
but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.
the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)
jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well. 
it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it. 
he’s literally hooked for you.
he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.” 
after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”
you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested. 
jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you. 
you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace. 
you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”
“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”
you nodded your head. “sure.”
“...do you want to those off then?”
“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.
it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded. 
jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment. 
you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”
you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”
“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.” 
you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.” 
your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?
but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?” 
your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”
you like the sound of that.
this is something you could get used to.
jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.
you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook. 
after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower. 
after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”
jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.
you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want
jungkook: ……i’m not that gross
as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.
as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.
you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out. 
your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.
no answer. 
you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”
“are you not at home?” 
he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”
you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.” 
“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”
you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”
the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.” 
he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.
bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.
it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men. 
he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.
you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake. 
instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…) 
after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that. 
the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.
you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.
“but it’s itchy.”
“patient.”
you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.
jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps. 
you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching. 
“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it. 
when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button. 
you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp. 
you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other. 
plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.
talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. plus, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.
you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.
the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.
yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.
arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.
you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.
you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.
yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now. 
out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook. 
still no acknowledgement from him.
finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.
the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it. 
you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.
as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”
the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.
jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.
when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.” 
you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”
yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”
you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”
yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”
“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”
you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.
the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.
he responded with a boyish smile.
and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.
driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards. 
an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.
this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.
when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.
you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.
jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.
eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.
you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.
right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath. 
jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.
but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door. 
he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.
you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.” 
…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”
carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.
he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention-  your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration. 
jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.
but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare. 
jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”
“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”
jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer. 
a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”
in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.
you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.
after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”
he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”
you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed. 
in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.
“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.” 
“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”
“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.
jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him. 
it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.
if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t. he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t. 
“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”
jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk. 
he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”
“yeah.”
jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved. 
“what now?”
you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”
looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent. 
“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.
“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.
but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her blatantly the first night he drove her home. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act to piss you off. 
you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”
after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.
“one won’t be enough.”
“give me an amount then.”
“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.
jungkook will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.
his other hand reached for your earlobe.
after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time. 
you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different. 
it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!
occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.
but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him. 
one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”
“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”
“right.”
“i think i want to talk some things out.”
thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it. 
“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again. 
at least, this time it's in person, right?
he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt. 
“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”
was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.
“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”
you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.
the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment. 
to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought. 
you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.” 
“that was all my honest words!!!”
“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs. 
it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.
his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days. 
“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”
“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.
jungkook smirks against your neck, 
way, way more. (end)
here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!
and until next time, kae.
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theintrovertbean · 1 year
Note
Hey there 👋 I would like to request a one shot. If your up for it, if not no pressure ☺️
*****
Nadia overnight work related stuff and MC walking in and finds her on her table still working holding a cup of coffee. hair messy and all her notes are everywhere
Nadia seeing MC and says " oh!, Good morning dear want some coffee?"
mc then takes the coffee out of her hand then guides her back to their bed and spends quality time together before Nadia falls asleep on top of MC.
*******
My Dear Anon,
I am most sorry for delaying this beautiful ask, but I believe it was worth it. Greatness takes time to achieve, after all. And I did work on it a lot, actually. I've been writing this since the moment you sent this ask, constantly adding a few words, sentences, or even paragraphs to it.
And why? Because this is one of the most wonderful requests I have ever received, and I really wanted to do it justice. I hope that I have managed and that you will enjoy it!
Once again, I am very sorry for taking this long.
Everything That a Countess Needs
With an empty ache in their heart, MC stared at the ceiling of the Countess' bedroom. They spent the whole night alone, barely able to get any sleep. Nadia was always there. She promised she would always be there with them at night, no matter how busy she was during the day. And now it was morning, and Nadia's enormous bed felt ten times bigger in her absence. 
The apprentice managed to contain their pain for now, but a wave of horrible thoughts rushed through their mind. Maybe she's hurt. No, someone would have told me. Then what if she's with someone else? It made their chest tighten in pain and fear.
But after a moment, they quickly brushed the ill thoughts away, rose from the bed, and slipped into an appropriate outfit. If Nadia doesn't come to them, then they will find her themselves. They walked to the grand door and opened it just in time to catch Portia with a tray of steaming hot coffee, freshly made from the kitchen. 
"Good morning, MC!" The head maid smiled at them. "Breakfast will be served in half an hour. Do you need anything?" 
"Yes, well." MC cleared their throat. "Nadia didn't come to bed last night, and I'm trying to find her. Do you know where she is?" 
"Ohh." Portia's expression became painful, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. "It seems like no one told you." Oh no. The apprentice began to panic; their eyes widened in terror, and their heartbeat quickened in fear of the truth. She's hurt. "Milady went to her office last night to do some paperwork, but something urgent came up."
"I-Is she alright?" The apprentice couldn't help but ask, even if it were possibly rude, to interrupt Portia. What if the Countess got terribly hurt and-! Oh, Gods. They must find out before it's too late! 
"Alright?" Portia now looked at MC, and she seemed quite surprised. "Yes, of course. She's just tired. I told her to rest, but she insisted on finishing what she had already started." 
The apprentice has never felt so dumb in their entire life. How come they didn't think of that? They looked at the tray of coffee in Portia's hands and came up with an excellent idea. It is their perfect opportunity to spoil the overworked Countess. Maybe they could sneak behind Nadia and massage her shoulder while she works. "Portia, you should take a break too. Here," They took the tray from her with a smile. "I will bring it to her."  
What a perfect opportunity! MC kept smiling as they approached Nadia's office, then knocked on the door and announced their arrival. "Nadi, it's me." 
"Come in, dear," Nadia said in a quieter voice than usual. "Good morning, my love" She smiled as her lover entered, her voice a faint whisper. 
MC almost dropped the tray when they saw the Countess in her current state. Her hair looked like an absolute mess, she had bags under her eyes, ink on her fingers, her makeup completely ruined, and yet, her smile was sweet and loving as ever. She then looked down at the mess of papers in front of her, blinked for a second longer than she should have, and her head dropped down an inch like a sleepy kitten's. Upon realization, she immediately forced her eyes open and looked at MC.
"Would you like some coffee?" She took the cup from her desk that Portia had left there earlier and a disappointed ohh left her lips when she saw that she already drank it all. "I see you brought some more," She said and set the cup down. "Would you please be a dear and bring it to me?" 
"No," MC's answer came immediately and without hesitation. "Up with you, my love," They commanded to the Countess' greatest surprise. They walked to her desk and put down the tray on the farthest corner from Nadia, ensuring she wouldn't reach it. Then, they made their way to her and held out a hand for the Countess to grab. 
But she hesitated, knowing too well that she still had a lot of work to do. "I can't," She told them. "I have to finish this, and then there's-" 
"Nadia," The apprentice cut into the middle of her sentence. How bold, interrupting the Countess like that. Not many would dare to do the same, but MC could without facing any consequences. "You can't work in your current state, and I'm not leaving you until you take a break." 
The Countess sighed. She knew too well that she shouldn't, but the magician was right. "My love," She once again began talking, but MC didn't let her speak.
"Please, Nadia," The apprentice pleaded, tempting their lover. She desperately needed a rest, and it was already too hard to force herself to work. But the Countess, ever so responsible, knew that duty comes before her needs. "Please, let me take care of you." 
How could she ever refuse them? 
Despite her protest, MC defeated her, and then the Countess nodded. "Okay," She whispered, the corners of her mouth turning into a weak smile. "Alright, my magician. You may take care of me." 
A bright smile immediately appeared on the magician's face when Nadia took their hand and stood from her seat. She allowed herself to be taken away by MC, to be led by them to a more pleasant environment. They held her hand gently as the two of them walked through the palace hallways, taking slow, lazy steps toward the Countess' chambers. 
MC pushed open the vast door of Nadia's bedroom. First, they let the Countess go inside; then, the apprentice entered too. Always so polite. 
"Tell me, my dear MC, how exactly do you plan on taking care of me?" Nadia asked her lover. "Shall I call for a servant and ask them to prepare a bath? Then, we could have a spa day together." But as relaxing as it may have sounded, MC had other, much simpler plans.  
"I don't think that a spa day is what you need right now, Nadi." 
"Then what it is that I need, love?" 
"A really good nap." 
The Countess' eyes widened in surprise. "A really good nap?" Then it seemed like the tension eased from her tired shoulders, and she laughed, her sounds of joy echoing through the enormous room. "Very well, MC. Let us take a nap." 
"Not yet," MC said, and then they walked to Nadia's wardrobe while the Countess watched them with interest. She yawned a few times before MC found one of her robes and made their way back to her. "Put this on, please."
And so Nadia did, but not without MC's help. The apprentice's fingers lightly brushed against Nadia's exposed skin as they took off her dress which was now only weighing her down. Usually, this would be quite an erotic experience, but neither of them had any of those intentions. Not right now. Instead, it was a sweet, loving gesture between soulmates, one helping out the other while she needed it. 
A hand slid from the Countess' abdomen to her waist as MC walked behind her, then soft lips pressed against her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. The hand then left, and the lips were no longer in contact with her skin. Light as a feather and gentle as a lover, MC helped Nadia into her robe. 
Her eyes followed MC's movements and watched them approach Nadia's dressing table. They pulled out the plush chair and did it much further than necessary. "Please sit down," MC asked the Countess, and Nadia obliged without question. 
With their magic, MC filled a bowl with water and grabbed the nearest rag. They dipped inside the bowl and then turned towards Nadia. Their free hand reached towards the Countess' face, fingers tenderly touching her chin and making her gaze at the apprentice. Nadia closed her eyes, enjoying the care of her lover. With their other hand, MC pressed the wet rag against Nadia's skin and began to wipe off her makeup with gentle movements. 
When her eyelids were clean, Nadia opened them, looking at her MC with so much love that it made their heart flutter. There was no need for talking; the look she gave them meant more than a thousand words. Her tired but loving eyes told them everything they needed to know. As soon as MC finished, they kissed Nadia, their lips sweet and soft against her own. It was a chaste but loving kiss, something they often shared during their private and romantic moments, like a silent promise to always love and cherish each other. 
The rag was placed back down on the dressing table, and MC rushed to undress and get a robe of their own while the Countess waited. The apprentice climbed into their shared bed and laid on it with such a great speed that could only be achieved by using magic. 
The Prakran goddess followed her lover to bed, slowly climbing up and then settling her weight on top of them, the closeness bringing joy to both the Countess and her magician. She laid her head on MC's chest, her ear resting right above their heart. The soft beating brought her much-needed comfort and calmed her. A yawn escaped her mouth, and MC kissed the top of her head. 
"Sweet dreams, Nadi," The apprentice whispered. 
"Thank you for everything, MC. I love you," The Countess mumbled, her eyes closed and already half asleep. 
A few fingers tangled into her violet hair, the digits lovingly playing with the soft locks. "And I love you too. More than you can imagine, my heart."
It wasn't a good nap that Nadia needed.
It was MC and their loving care. 
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ladyreapermc · 3 years
Text
Fic: Closing Time (Johnny Utah x fem!reader)
Summary: You work at a clothing store, you get a last minute customer at closing time and sexy tims happen.
Pairing: Johnny Utah x fem!reader
Author’s Notes: So I’m slowly getting back to writing. I’m not gonna say I’m fully back just yet, but for this week at least, there will be content! Huge thanks to @toomanystoriessolittletime and @meetmeinthematinee​ for being cheerleaders and giving me early feedback on this! 
Wordcount: 3125
Warnings: smut. oral sex (F! receiving); dirty talk; unprotected sex with strangers (don’t do this kids!); sex in inappropriate places.
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Most days you quite enjoyed it when there was barely any movement at the store. It gave you the opportunity of just being by yourself, reading a book, or enjoying some music or studying for college, things that you didn’t always have the privacy of doing at your dorm because your roommate seemed to always be around. Even during the summer and what was up with that? Didn’t she have better things to do?
She wasn’t like you, who actually had to work to put yourself through college and took some extra jobs during the summer so you could have some savings for the following term when all you managed to get were part-time jobs that you had fit in between classes and paid shit.
Fortunately, at the shop, you had some peace and time for yourself. It was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall sort of place around Venice Beach where tourists could get some shirts and other knickknacks to take back home and locals surfers could find cheap clothing and supplies for a day out on the beach. Most days, you worked from 9-5 and after your shift, you could head to the beach, spread your towel on the sand and enjoy the gorgeous Californian sunset. However, as the summer winded out and the fall winds blew the scalding hot weather into simmering heat, your boss let you close a little early, especially on Tuesdays, when most tourists had already headed home and the new arrivals hadn’t landed yet so there were barely any customers around.
Your plan today had been to finish your reading for class and start the new crime thriller you picked up at the used books store on your way to work. Except, today you were just too restless to focus. You must have reread the same paragraph of your textbook twenty times before you gave up and set it aside, giving the other book a go, but it was just as unsuccessful at holding your attention.
So instead, you moved around the cramped space, adjusting the decoration items, dusting off shelves, and refolding every single shirt in the display until it was perfectly symmetrical while you willed time to move faster so you could end this day. Maybe it was the heatwave that had made an appearance turning the air in the shop stifling and all you had to help you was an old and slow fan that made more noise than blow air. The A/C was busted and your boss still hadn’t called someone to fix it.
Another possibility was the fact that you had to keep the glass doors opened to help circulate a little air and every time any kind of wind blew or someone walked in, it brought with them the crisp smell of salt and sand that always made you ache for the ocean and fight against the temptation of just abandoning everything and heading for the beach so you could cool off taking a dip in the deliciously cold water. Either way, you kept checking the slow ticking of the clock hands, counting the seconds before you could turn the closed sign.
When the minute hand finally hit twelve, you let out a cheer, jumping off your stool and taking a step towards the door. You always locked the doors first to discourage most last-minute walk-ins while you closed the register, put away the money in the back office safe, and slipped out of the store through the back door, taking any garbage with you to throw in the dumpster outside.
Before you could move from behind the counter, a man stepped into the store and you groaned low in your throat. Of-fucking-course! It was like they stood in wait to come in at the precise moment you were about to head out.
“Hey, you’re still open, right?” He asked, pushing the overgrown dark hair back from his forehead and offering you an unsure smile. You felt the urge to lie and say that no, you were closed and he should come back tomorrow.
“Yeah, sure.” You said instead placing your best and most fake seller’s smile. “Feel free to look around and let me know if you need help.”
“Thanks!” He replied, flashing a wider smile that showed a small dimple, before moving towards the shirts in the display while you made your way to the main entrance, flipped the sign, and locked the door to bar any other walk-ins.
You hung back while the guy browsed the options, taking a moment to assess him. He didn’t look like a tourist, but also not fully like a local. Most Californian guys that you knew had the most horrifying hair cuts or bleach jobs you had ever seen and that was not the case for the man in front of you.
His hair was dark brown, a little shaggy from too much exposure to sun and salt and it flopped a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. He wore a grey cropped t-shirt that had definitely seen better days and struggled to contain his broad shoulders, showing a peek of toned abs. His jeans were ridiculously tight and hung low on his slender hips, the light-wash of the denim accentuating the perfect bubble butt and for the love of God, you needed to get laid. Badly.
“Excuse me,” he called, startling you and you prayed he hadn’t noticed the way you were checking his ass just now. “Do you have this one in black?”
“Yeah, sure.” You moved towards the drawers. “What’s your usual size? Medium or large?”
“I think large should be good,” he replied and when you turned around with the requested shirt, he was just standing there, barechested, his top hanging from his shoulder and you hoped your gasp wasn’t as loud as it sounded in your head.
“Here you go,” you croaked, offering him the shirt. “We do have a fitting room…” you gestured towards the small cubicle to the rear of the store.
“Oh right!” He glanced over as he pulled the shirt on. “Do you mind if I try them out here, though?”
“Not at all,” you forced your voice to sound somewhat normal.
“Awesome!”
Damn! He wasn’t just fucking hot. He was also cute, the wide grin he just flashed giving him a boyish look that was only enhanced by the almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes. Biting your lip, you watched as he turned side to side in front of the mirror, checking himself out.
“It think is a little too big,” he said, meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”
“Well…” you cleared your throat and moved closer so you could look at him through the mirror. “If you want it more fitted, then yeah, probably a smaller size would be best. Want me to get it?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Once again, by the time you turned back to him, he was shirtless, the garment he had just tried neatly folded and resting on the shelf as he took a look at some other shirts, his attention snapping at you when he noticed you coming closer to hand him the new shirt, giving you a glimpse of a pale, sunken scar running down his abs that stopped just above his belly button and that drew attention to the small trail of fine dark hairs that disappeared under the waist of his jeans and holy shit! He was bare beneath those jeans.
“Bike accident,” he commented as he took the shirt that you offered and you met his eyes in confusion.
“What?” You asked, mouth suddenly dry.
“The scar,” he clarified, putting on the shirt and his lips were tilted into a slight smirk. “That was what you were staring at, right?”
“Right,” you agreed, feeling your face burning. “I’ll just head to the register and give you some privacy.”
I don’t mind,” he shrugged, turning to the mirror. “This is better. What do you think?” He turned towards you, giving you a full view of the cotton fabric covering his muscles, looking almost as if painted on him.
“Sure...” you swallowed hard, trying not to stare. “If you prefer it more fitted...”
“I do,” pulling the shirt off and once again giving you the glorious view of his torso. “I’ll take it.”
You took the shirt to the register and he followed, pausing only to pick up his own, which he had discarded on a nearby hanger. You were expecting him to put it back on, but he just threw it over his shoulder, reaching for his wallet as you registered the sale and tried not to stare.
“Is that the only camera you have around here?” He asked, gesturing to a point above your left and you glanced at the object before nodding, exchanging the money he gave you for the paper bag with his purchase.
“Yeah, why?”
“So basically...” he started, taking a step to the side, closer to the fitting room. “I’m completely out of sight over here?”
“Basically, yeah,” you frowned a little, stepping away from the counter. “Why? Are you planning to rob the place? Because let me tell you, there’s not much worth...” You trailed off with a surprised squeak as he tugged on your hand, pulling you over to the blindspot and nearly pressed against his strong chest.
“Because honestly, I never really gave a fuck about the shirt. I just thought you were beautiful and wanted to ask your number when I walked in, but you looked kind pissed so I got cold feet,” he confessed with a rueful smile.
“So you decided to just get mostly naked in front of me?” You snorted, shaking your head and he shrugged.
“Needed to make sure you might be interested and considering the way you were eyeing me earlier, it looked like you saw something you liked.”
“You’re really sure of yourself, aren’t you?” You arched an eyebrow at him, not ready to concede just yet. Even if the heat of his body and the smell of sea breeze whiffing off his skin were driving you crazy.
“Only when I’m right,” he flashed you a lopsided smirk and just waited, gazing into your eyes, making it clear that the next step was yours.
Part of you screamed that it was crazy to even consider hooking up with a guy that just walked into your store, no matter how hot he was, but it had been a ridiculously long time since you last had sex and he was so fucking hot, the scent of his golden skin intoxicating and his heat was making you dizzy with want as you looked him up and down, noticing the volume pressing against the denim of his pants.
“We might not have cameras, but the windows are see-through, so get your ass to the fitting room while I finish closing up.”
He flashed a victorious smirk and nodded, heading towards the back while you rushed through the steps of securing the store before joining him.
Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you made your way towards the back, pushing away the curtain that blocked the small space of the fitting room and finding him perched on the low stool that you kept there so customers could put down their things, facing the full-length mirror, legs spread, jeans undone, revealing the bush of dark hairs surrounding his long and thick cock.
You nearly whimpered at the sight, your center pulsing in want as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he run his left hand up and down his shaft, head tilted back, breathing hard, eyes hooded. He was such a beautiful and debauched sight that you felt the urge to photograph him, capture that sensuality.
“Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” He asked, eyes meeting yours through the reflective surface.
“You seemed to be doing fine on your own,” you teased stepping into the tight space, fingers itching to touch all that glorious skin.
“I did not just spend most of my afternoon at the corner diner, drinking burned coffee just to jerk off in front of you,” he declared, standing up and turning your way.
“Ohhh, so this was premeditated?” You asked, kicking off your sneakers as he reached for you and you stumbled against his chest.
“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted, large hand hot against your hips and you wanted to feel it against your flesh. “You probably don’t remember, but I was here last week and you had to bend over to get something from one of the lower drawers...” he let out a soft groan, hands moving to your ass and squeezing lightly. “Fuck! I don’t think I ever popped a boner so fast in my life. I had to get out.”
You vaguely remembered that. There was so much coming and going in this place, it was hard to keep track of faces, but customers just taking off after asking to see something usually caused an impression. If you weren’t about to get fucked after six months, you would be more pissed.
“So you decided to come back when I was alone and seduce me?” you asked, running your hands over his chest and abs, scratching it slightly and goosebumps rose in his skin as he hissed.
“Yeah,” he spoke in a low voice as his hands move to the button of your jeans. “I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he slid your fly down and your breath caught in your throat. “I thought about bending you over that counter and fucking you until you’re screaming.” His fingers skimmed over your cunt, just a soft touch, but you gasped and arched your hips forward, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. “I thought about it eating your pussy and your ass until you’re begging me to fuck you.”
Those words were whispered right against your ear, before he changed your positions, crowding you against the mirror and pushing your jeans down to your thighs before he once against skimmed his fingers over covered sex, making you ache for him.
“What do you think about that?” He asked, lips brushing your cheek in an almost chaste kiss, completely opposed to the lewdness of his hand exploring your cunt. “Do you want it?”
“If you’re as good with your tongue at eating pussy like you are at talking dirty, then I maybe I do,” you declared, tired of his teasing and you felt his smirk as he gracefully slid to his knees in front of you.
You didn’t manage to get another word out before he shoved your panties down to join your jeans and his lips firmly connected to your clit. He gave it a sharp suck and you groaned, burying your fingers into his hair to keep yourself on your feet as your brain short-circuited and your knees turned to jelly.
He was very good at eating you out, especially because he was very attentive to every sound you made, every tightening of your grip on his hair, and roll of your hips to nudge him into going faster or slower, harder or softer... It wasn’t long before he reached that perfect alternation of fast flickering against your clit and slower and broad strokes of his tongue over your entrance and lips, a combination that drove you crazy.
You were whimpering and moaning, legs quaking with the alternating urge to close them around his face to keep him trapped there pleasuring you forever or spreading them wider so he could have more space to work, but the edges of your jeans were digging into the lower part of your knees, signaling you that that was as far as they could go.
As if reading your thoughts or maybe he just realized he would need more room, he shoved your pants down and helped you to kick them off so you could be completely free of the garment. And didn’t you two looked like a mismatched pair, with you standing there wearing only your top while he knelt in front of you, his jeans still on.
Once your pants were off, he hooked your right thigh over his shoulder, pressing his mouth even harder against your cunt, flickering his tongue over your clit before dipping it in between your lips, gathering the juices soaking your sex like a starved man.
“Fuck! I’m so close...” you hissed, rolling your hips, seeking more because that tight knot deep inside you was about to snap and from the way you ached and shuddered, your muscles tensing, you knew it would be a hard one.
“Yeah?” He mumbled against your core, his breath against your overheated skin making you shiver as he pushed two fingers inside you. “Gonna cum all over my mouth?”
He pistoled his fingers in and out at a fast pace, crooking inwards with every down motion, his tongue matching his rhythm against your clit and it was that made you snap as you bit down on your fist to stop yourself from shouting as your body was flooded with pleasure and all you knew was the unbelievable bliss that surrounded you. Stars bust behind your closed lids, the air came out of your lungs in short gushes as you fought hard not to slide down to the ground because your legs felt like jelly.
“Ok?” he asked, making you finally snap your eyes open to look at him.
He was sitting on his heels, face still glistening with your orgasm, his lips swollen and red from the abuse. His cock was rock hard, red, and leaking and you really wanted to return the favor.
“Way better than ok,” you replied with a gasp. “My turn?” To your surprise, he shook his head and got to his feet.
“Tonight, the only place I’m cumming is in that pussy,” he announced against your ear and shivered with anticipation. “So let’s get out of this fucking store and go to my place?”
“Fuck yes!” you grinned breathlessly at him as you reached for your jeans and he buttoned his over his hard cock and that couldn’t be comfortable.
“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he said. “Johnny Utah. Just in case you want to know what to shout when I fuck your brains out later.”
You rolled your eyes at his cheeky smirk and moved closer to him, once fully clothed, the only evidence of your recent climax was the sweat cooling on your skin and the stupid grin that refused to leave your face.
“I think I like you more when your mouth is busy with something other than talking,” you declared and before Johnny could manage a reply, you silenced him with a kiss, tasting yourself in his tongue.
xxx
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discopig · 3 years
Text
That other girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 2/3]
Okay so I’ve made a few improvements, first one being I won’t be writing at 2 AM after 4 hours of sleep because I read back part one and honestly wanted to shoot myself, I also added paragraph/scene dividers because the first part was very messy and I kept fucking up the tenses! My imagination has been going wild for this fic so I need to calm myself. I don’t intend for this to be a long story, I hope to finish it by the next part. Hope you guys enjoy :))
Part 1 | Part 3
Warnings: implied family abuse, swearing (doesn’t even need to be a warning)
Word Count: 1,452
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You stared at the woman at the door, what seemed like millions of thoughts rushing through your mind at once. She was beautiful. Not to say you weren’t beautiful yourself, but insecurity seemed to be the main component of the blood flowing through your veins at the sight of her. She looked like the models you would see at the fashion shows your mother would take you to as a kid, and she made the plain barmaid’s uniform look like the most expensive piece Chanel could offer.
The woman’s eyes darted between you and harry as she spotted the two of you together.
“Thanks for the help” Harry said, taking the glasses from the basket the woman carried them in. As though he forgot something, he quickly turned around after placing them on the counter behind the bar. 
“Grace” he acknowledged the woman, “this is Y/N, your co-barmaid” he said, turning to you.
You were secretly hoping she was just here on delivery for the shop Harry had bought the glasses from, and wished so deeply she wasn’t the barmaid he had mentioned earlier, but alas, she had to be. 
“Oh, it’s very nice to meet you” she smiled extending her hand towards you
“Likewise” you gave her a small smile, taking her hand and shaking it
“Harry’s told me a lot about you, about how you help him around the bar and whatnot, how good you are at dealing with the rowdy customers” You picked up on her Irish accent
"Well, that’s nice to hear. Are you not from Birmingham?” you questioned
“Oh no, I’m not. I only got here about a week ago. I used to work at a bar in Galway, so I got quite lucky to be able to get a job at a bar here” she replied.
Quite lucky I sprained my fuckin’ ankle you mean. You mentally scoffed at her
“That is quite lucky” you laughed
By now Harry had left to sort out the glasses in storage, so you figured you might as well pry for something out of her
“So Harry tells me you’ve been serving the Shelby boys while I’ve been gone, you know they’re trouble?” You asked, staring into her eyes, trying to gauge any sort of reaction you could receive. She seemed unfazed.
“Well, they’ve been quite nice to me, given me lots of tips” 
“Is that so? Who’s been giving you tips?” They never gave you tips, even on the busiest of nights when you were running back and forth serving their requests for beer which seemed to come through ever 10 fucking seconds
“Uh, the tall one” John. Damn him.
“Ah, I see, hopefully it was good money” you ‘beamed’ at her, trying to be friendly 
“Good enough” she laughed back
“So what brings you to Birmingham?” 
“My father passed away and I just needed a change of scenery” she replied, her eyes showed sadness, so you figured her father passing couldn’t be a lie, but a change of scenery in Birmingham? Yeah right. Maybe on some farm surrounded by chickens and mosquitoes, or in some tropical American city, but not in Birmingham. Most people want out, not in, unless they have good reason to favour the latter.
“I’m sorry to hear that” 
“It’s okay, he was quite old anyways, I had expected it at some point” she replied with a half smile, eyes still sad.
You both sat in silence for a moment until you spoke “I’ll be back next week to help out” you looked towards the door, more customers starting to pile in, Harry back from the storage room, rushing to get their orders, and back at Grace “things are starting to get busy, I won’t hold you any longer. It was nice meeting you” you smiled at her, getting up from your seat and heading  out of the Garrison, trudging to the betting shop.
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The Shelby family were in the midst of a family meeting, discussing business you honestly didn’t care much about, thoughts racing with how you were going to have Thomas’ head on a stake. 
“That copper, is going to try and bring this family down with every fuckin’ cell in his body” Thomas exclaimed
“What copper?” you asked. Thomas looked at you like you had just asked him if the sun was a rock
“Campbell. We’ve been talking about him this whole meeting Y/N” you could tell he was annoyed, but you didn’t care
“When did he get here? When did this start?” you asked
“Why does that-” Thomas started
“Answer the fucking question Thomas Shelby” you interrupted
“About a week ago, he worked as a copper in Ireland, and has come with his troops to Birmingham to try and ruin all of my fucking plans. Keep up please!” He replied, clearly frustrated.
Ireland?
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You knocked on the door to Thomas’ office and waited before you heard a low “Come in”
You walked into his office, Thomas looking down at some papers, and sat down on one of the chairs at his desk
“How are you liking the new barmaid?” You asked, staring him down.
At the mention of the barmaid he looked up at you, a mix of panic and annoyance flashing in his eyes
“She does her job Y/N. What else can I think of her? He replied with a sigh at the end
“Oh I’m sure she does her job well enough for you to be having secret meetings with her” you replied, venom laced in your voice. You were starting to get angry, and him behaving as though he was annoyed by your presence wasn’t making it any easier
“Y/N what are you-” 
“Don’t fucking what me Thomas Shelby! Harry told me all about the lovely interest you’ve taken to her, enough so to meet with her every fucking day! Did you fuck her?! If you did you better tell me because so help me God if I find out from-”
“I did not fucking sleep with her Y/N will you PLEASE calm down?” Thomas yelled, his voice booming through the office
“If you didn’t sleep with her then what did you do?”
“We just talked” he answered, as though everything was normal
“Just talked?! Have you forgotten that you have a girlfriend Thomas, a girlfriend who had a sprained fucking ankle and couldn’t walk, who you could’ve come to any time to just talk?! You think I’m supposed to believe that’s all you did? Why would you just talk to her and not me?!” You were screaming again, your anger reaching a tipping point
“Because she isn’t like you Y/N!” 
You looked at him, visibly confused
“She didn’t grow up with daddy’s loaded bank account in some posh city, she’s genuine, like a breath of fresh fucking air in this place! She gets me, and I get her, and she happened to be there when I needed someone to talk to! Is that so bad?!” You stared at him dumbfounded, not only had he implied that he could not come to you -his girlfriend- when he needed someone to talk to, he also brought up your family and history, knowing damn well the riches your family had, meant nothing to you, constantly overshadowed by the yelling, bruises and loneliness.
The true weight of his words seemed to register with him as regret flashed in his eyes under your dumbfounded, yet angry gaze
“Fuck you Thomas Shelby. Fuck you. She’s working with that fucking copper”
He moved to say something but you quickly interrupted him
“I know you did your stupid background checks, I asked Arthur about it. She’s not from fucking Galway, she never worked in any bars, meaning she lied about everything, and she, your lovely Irish angel shows up at the same time that copper does, and you still willingly walk into her presence every damn day while your girlfriend is alone, to talk?! To fucking talk?!”
Thomas was visibly getting angrier as you accused her of working with Campbell, moving to defend her
“Don’t you think you’re going too far?! I get you’re jealous but you can’t just make shit up!”
You scoffed 
“Polly was right about men only being able to think with their cocks. Even you, the oh so smart Thomas Shelby, are a blind fucking idiot. Fuck you, I never want to see you again, you hear me? You can go talk to that fucking barmaid as much as you want” You spat, leaving his office with a loud slam of his door, catching John’s worried eyes as you stormed out of the shop. Your ankle was radiating with pain, but you ignored it as you stormed home.
Fucking Shelbys.
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taeescript · 3 years
Text
29+1 (Part One)
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𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)
𝔴𝔠: 3.6k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 
𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 
part two
Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 
In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?
So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.
“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 
You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 
“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 
An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 
“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.
“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.
The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 
“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”
Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.
Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”
Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.
“Enough about me, however, how about you?”
“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”
You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  
“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.
And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…
“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”
Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.
“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”
“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”
You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”
“What are you doing there?”
Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”
“Or sleeping!” someone quips.
You don’t join in when they all laugh.
“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.
A hushed silence befalls everyone.
“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”
His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”
Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.
She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”
Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.
Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.
Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.
Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.
“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.
And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.
The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.
He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  
“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  
                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.
Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.
He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”
The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.
“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”
Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.
He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.
“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.
You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.
“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”
He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.
Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.
Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.
“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  
The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.
Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.
“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”
Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.
“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”
You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.
“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.
Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”
You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.
Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.
A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.
“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.
As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.
“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.
Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.
“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”
“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”
“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.
“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”
“God, don’t remind me.”
“Want me to come visit you?”
You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.
“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”
“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”
There is a pause.
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”
You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”
“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”
“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”
Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”
He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.
The child is crying much louder now.
“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”
There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”
“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.
With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.
Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.
He knew he had given you an impossible task.
“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”
There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.
The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.
“Mr. Kim.”
His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.
Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.
“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”
Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.
“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.
His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”
So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.
“Sir?”
“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.
Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”
“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”
“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”
“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.
“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”
There is no response.
“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”
“Ah,” she says.
He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”
There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.
“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.
Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.
“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”
Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”
“Two.”
“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”
This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.
“What?”
“Put your name on Google.”
Seokjin does as he is told.
There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.
“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”
A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.
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myonepiece · 3 years
Note
Hi! Can I leave a request with the same summary as your last blog (the one with the small and timid s/o) but with different characters: Whitebeard, Oden, Rayleigh and Shanks and s/o being fem.
I only did the first three because Oden is 😩😭 
and because 3 characters per request sorry! 💕
be warned my thirst got pretty explicit quickly
Whitebeard, Oden, Rayleigh nsfw hcs
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-SIR, SIR, I BEG YOU TO FACE FUCK ME
-👀 that dick is godly. I did so much research just to find out how big his penis would be, I made a god damn graph. man lives to see you impaled on his cock while you cry from the pain and pleasure, the way you claw at his chest and launch at his lips whenever he leans his head down
-he loves that one position where he’s standing behind you and holding your arms back, seeing his h u g e member disappear into his little girlfriend is a yes
-the flustered and scared look on your face when his 2 1/2 ft dick springs out of his pants, hard as a metal rod and precum dripping from the tip gliding down the shaft fuck my mouth is watering
-he leaves quite a few hickeys, his sons are all men and they know that their pops is fucking you so he’s not really embarrassed or worried he’ll ‘corrupt’ them
-I genuinely can not decide if he likes being called daddy or if he finds it wierd, with all the sons on board n stuff yknow
-when you’re sucking his dick he reached behind you and fingers you 😩
-his fucking finger is as big as an average man’s hand I swear 
-he soooo has a breeding kink. even if you don’t want a kid, he loves seeing your stomach bulge with his cum and seeing it drip out of your pussy, it’s such a perfect sight to him. he mentions cum and his “seed” a lot in his dirty talk
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-Oden, oh Oden, how excited I’ve been to write for you and now my first post for you is thirst! anywayyyy, I want him to fucking kick me 😩💘
-for starters, he’s loves quickies and he’s pretty shameless when it comes to locations. so he’ll pull you into an alley or hidden place or just a room, and he’ll pull aside his robes and his dick immediately springs free from the fundoshi (samurai underwear, yeah I looked up what samurai underwear is called, yes that and images is in my history)
-his cock is thick and it’s always super hard, already dripping with precumby the time he gets it out of his bottoms
-he loves picking you up and fucking you, not against a wall or anything, just standing in the middle of the room his hands supporting you from their grip on your ass
-spanking 😖 he loves your ass and he tends to subconsciously knead it, and he has this habit of spreading your cheeks even when there’s not really a need to. spank him back, he lives for it
-omg omg there’s this type of bondage that originated in japana, it’s called Shibari, he loves that on you but more on himself, not the hands/legs/limbs tied together/restrained part but he loves the part where the rope goes across his broad chest and kind of outlines his pecs 🤤 
-omfg suck on his nipples (man boobs 😩🤤🤤🤤🤤, they’re sensitive as hell and he just goes crazy 
-his dirty talk isn’t really ‘thought out’ or ‘proper’ if that makes sense, it’s more exactly wwhat he’s thinking then and there, a mix of curses and nasty things he wants to do. he’ll also kind of narrarate whats going on, for example “my dick is slamming into you so hard baby!” and he always has a mischievous grin 
-he tends to laugh, not too much, but it’s usually when you praise him or moan particularly loud or whore-like, things that make him know how good he’s making you feel 
-he calls you “whore” a lot 
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-he’s so pervy change my mind
-but like, only a perv to his s/o. you can usually find his hand on your boobs or butt
-taking you against the wall with your chest pressed against it and his chest flush against your back 
-he hits his dick against your (fuck idk what to call it all of a sudden) pussy everytime, either before he enters or after he’s done cumming. he’ll also slap your face with it (pls do Rayleigh, please). like once you’re both stripped and you’re laying on your back in bed, he’ll crawl over you and position himself above your face so he can slap his cock against it
-pull his hair
-whenever he’s horny, wherever the two of you are, he’s going to take you (unless of course you’re not in the mood and still aren’t even after he teases you) he’ll be shamelessly handsy and he’ll push you against any wall or into any alley or empty room and he relishes howw flustered and worried you are, scared to be caught. when you tell him to stop because someones coming or because you’re scared someone will walk in, he just goes harder 
-he doesn’t like this all the time, but he ties you to the bed, completely spread out and vulnerable, then he fucks you like you’re just a sex doll
-he also loooves to punish you by tying you to the bed like in the last paragraph, but he sits in the room stroking himself and talking dirty, always at the foot of the bed where he can see you’re wetness pooling on the covers and see your hole clench around nothing 
-don’t get me started on how much this man loves you scratching his chest/back. especially his chest and abs, we’ve all seen that scene, we all want to do it 💕
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talatomaz · 3 years
Text
lockdown | jj x fem!teen!reader
a/n: i can’t believe that a year ago today, the last ever episode of criminal minds aired. i miss jj so much 🤧
this is sort of in line with my own experiences (to a certain extent). and there’s not as much jj x d!r as i’d intended but I hope you still like it.
(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)
requested by @ouat2017 : “could you do a jj x daughter where the daughter’s school is on lockdown and jj is worried or something like that?”
warnings: gun violence. blood
word count: 2.6k
masterlist | request list | request rules
r is jj’s 18 year old adopted daughter and suddenly finds herself on lockdown after someone brings a gun into her school
i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated
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“Look, you’re the one that needs to be tutored so can you please focus?”
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.
You were currently in the tutoring centre trying to help a self-absorbed jock pass English so he could remain on the school’s football team.
Looking around you, you saw a handful of students giving both you and Cameron - the man-child you were tutoring - disparaging looks.
“You’re not supposed to be yelling at me. You’re meant to be telling me the answers.”
The aforementioned narcissist leaned against his chair, smirking at you in a way that made you fight to hide a shudder.
You could have easily wiped the grin off his face by mentioning who your mother was and who she worked for but instead, you decided to just continue ignoring his advances and carry on teaching him.
“That’s not how this works, Cameron. Now either you listen to me or you fail and get kicked off the team. And quite frankly, I’d rather the latter happen.”
You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion. Sighing, you answered, “latter means the second thing of two things mentioned in a sentence. Now, for the love of God, just finish writing your paragraph on Heller's satire of capitalism in Catch-22.”
You let out a breath of relief when he finally relented and started to scribble on his sheet of paper. You glanced over at one of your friends, who was also tutoring for extra credit, and smiled when she rolled her eyes at Cameron’s actions.
Leaning against the large desk that stood at the front of the room, you relished in the long-awaited silence aside from hushed whispers that came from other students asking for help.
Taking out your phone, you glanced at the screen to see that it was only midday and soon the lunch bell would be ringing.
You smiled softly at your lock screen.
It was a photo of you and JJ, your adoptive mother.
It was taken a few weeks prior at your 18th birthday party. You’d been living with JJ for almost 5 years now; her having fostered you before later adopting you when you were 14.
You still didn’t know what she saw in you on that day you’d first met her - you’d lost your family in a home invasion, barely surviving yourself - but whatever it was, you were grateful because you’d gotten a second chance at life.
Several minutes passed and you’d only broken from your train of thought when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw your friend, the one who’d rolled her eyes earlier at Cameron, standing beside you.
“I see you finally got him to do his work.” She whispered, loud enough for your ears only.
“Barely. He still has an essay to write and hasn’t even finished a paragraph yet.”
“I would have smacked his sorry ass by now.”
You laughed before clamping your hand over your mouth, her comment having caught you off guard.
“Ally!” You whisper-shouted, playfully hitting her arm.
She looked at you with a raised eyebrow causing you to smirk, “Trust me, I’ve thought about it but-”
Before you could finish your sentence, a large bang rang out, shattering the silence the room had once held.
With wide eyes, your head whipped to the door where the gunshot had presumably come from and you listened as the hallways were filled with panicked screams.
Running to the door, ignoring the gasps and shouts from the other students behind you, you turned the lock on the door, pulled down the blinds, switched off the lights and jammed a chair under the handle.
Looking up, you saw everyone had the same look of panic in their eyes; a few were crying, including Ally, and others were pale with shock, Cameron was one of them.
“Guys, we’re gonna be okay but we have to be quiet.” You whispered harshly, constantly looking over your shoulder at the door, listening for any indication of the shooter coming your way.
Everyone stared at you, as if you were the leader of a camp and they were small children awaiting for further instruction.
You supposed it wasn’t far off.
By taking charge, you were the one who’d been unwillingly given the role of protector.
“First things first,” you walked over to the group of 10 students, “I need you all to make sure your phones are on silent. We can’t risk being caught.”
You watched as everyone followed your instructions.
“I know you all want to call your parents but that’s going to attract attention to us so for right now, we need to be quiet.”
Your heart was beating out of your chest and as you spoke, one thought repeated in your head. JJ.
Taking out your phone, you scrolled to find your mother’s name in your contacts. You watched as your thumb hovered over her name.
Just breathe, y/n. Breathe.
Tapping your mother’s name, you brought the phone to your ear.
“I thought you said we couldn’t call anyone.”
Your eyes locked onto Cameron’s, his face pale and his eyes filled with terror and a hint of anger.
“My Mum works for the FBI.” You whispered as the phone rang out.
Any other time and you probably would have laughed at the way his face grew paler, if that was even possible. But, in a situation this tense, it was going to be difficult to find any levity.
Your Mum picked up on the second ring and you let out a shaky breath when you heard her voice.
“Hi baby. A bit early for your lunch, isn’t it?”
You closed your eyes at her soft tone, as if you were trying to engrave the way she spoke into your mind lest you would never hear it again.
From your lack of response, the blonde sensed there was something up, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
A single tear dropped down your cheek as you struggled to maintain a steady tone. Catching a glimpse of Ally staring at you, you steeled yourself and spoke.
“Mum, you need to come quick. Someone’s brought a gun into school.”
“Oh my-AARON.”
You winced when you heard her shout for her boss, listening as you could hear her run up stairs. You held your breath as she filled Hotch in on what was happening before telling Garcia to hack into your school’s security system.
“Are you okay? Stupid question. But are you hurt?”
“Mum,” you interrupted her rambling, “I’m fine. I’m in the tutoring centre with 10 other people. I don’t know how many people are injured. It just all happened so fast.”
“It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna be okay.”
Though you could hear the clear panic in her voice, her words did bring some form of reassurance to you.
“Penelope’s hacking into the system so hopefully she can have eyes soon.”
As she spoke, you could hear the clacking of keys in the background of the call; presumably Garcia doing exactly what JJ said.
“Mum?” You questioned when you heard Garcia swear.
Instead of JJ answering, the usually peppy tech analyst replied, her voice shaky and wet, as if she was crying.
“Y/N, thank God you’re okay.”
“What’s wrong, Garcia?”
“Someone’s disabled the cameras remotely. I can only get them back online if someone reprograms them from the inside.”
Grasping what she was explaining, you nodded, “I’ll fix them.”
“What? No!”
Your mother had taken the phone off of Garcia.
“You are not leaving that room, y/n. We’ll find another way in.”
“Mum, someone needs to fix the system from inside the school. I need to do it.”
Ignoring your mother’s worried shouts, you continued to speak, “Mum, I have to. I love you.”
You disconnected the phone and switched it off, preventing her from being able to call you back.
“Y/N, you are not leaving this room.”
You’d only just realised that everyone had been watching you intently during that entire interaction.
“Yes, I am.”
Moving away from the huddle, you rose to your feet and replied to your friend.
Cameron rose to his feet and towered over you as he challenged you, “No, you are not. You’re going to put us in danger.”
“Do you know how to hack into our school’s security system and then reconnect the transformer and enter the Mastercode?”
His face contorted to a look of confusion making you reply,
“Exactly.”
Turning to leave, you felt a large hand enclose around your arm.
“I said, you’re not leaving.”
Your eyes flickered from Cameron’s hand up to his face that dared you to take another step.
“Remove your hand from my arm before I remove your hand from your body. You may letter in football but I’ve been trained by some of the best FBI agents there are and unless you want to end up in a sleeper hold, I suggest you shut up and do what I say for once.”
His harsh grip almost immediately lessened as his hand returned to his side.
“Good. Now, have any of you been shot? No? I didn’t think so. Well, I have and whoever did get shot is probably bleeding out in the hallway. I can’t not do anything.”
No one dared to respond and instead, shook their head ‘no’ at your asking if anyone else would try to stop you.
Content that you weren’t going to deal with any more unnecessary distractions, you made your way to the door and gently removed the chair that was beneath the handle.
“Ally, you’re in charge. Lock the door when I leave. By my count, the FBI will be here soon. And Cameron, you do anything stupid and I’ll shoot you myself.”
Unlocking the door, you stepped out into the empty hallway and hastily made your way to where the main security hub was located.
Just a couple of hours ago, all you had wished for was silence but now that your wish had been granted, all you wanted was to hear the playful shouts and conversations between your friends and fellow students.
The silence that currently fell on your school was unnerving and unbearable. And with each step you took, you flinched at the sound your shoes made against the marble floor. Each noise practically acting as a beacon for the shooter to come find you.
You let out a sigh of relief when you found the Hub and you quickly worked to reconnect the security system. Typing on the laptop that rested atop one of the servers, you couldn’t help the smile that formed when all the cameras re-engaged.
Tapping on one of the keys, you navigated through the various cameras, looking for any indication of the shooter or of any injured people. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of someone.
Squinting at the screen, you saw, what appeared to be a freshman - since you didn’t recognise him as being a part of your year - laying on the ground, a hand clutching his stomach as blood coated his clothing.
Immediately knowing where he was, you cautiously made your way to the east hallway before running when you noticed him laying on the ground, his blood coating the once-white marble floor.
Falling to your knees, you pressed your hands against his wound, trying to stop the steady flow. He groaned out in pain, tears staining his face.
“H-Help me.” He choked out.
“What’s your name?”
“Jackson. But everyone c-calls me J-Jack.”
“Jack, you’re going to be okay. I just need you stay with me, okay? I’m-”
“Y/N.”
You failed to hide the surprise from your face making the younger teen smile despite his predicament.
“You’re t-tutoring Cameron. Everyone knows who you are. Y-You’re the one who doesn’t take any of his shit. I think h-he likes you.”
“Well, tough shit for him. I may be bi but he’s definitely not my type.”
Jack’s laugh quickly turned into another groan of pain.
Unzipping your jacket with one hand, you used the other to keep pressure on his wound. After removing the jacket, you harshly pressed it against his torso and watched as it barely absorbed the blood.
“I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”
“No, you’re not. I won’t let you.” You said, tears filling in your eyes as memories rushed back of when you tried to save your brother after he’d been shot.
“You’re going to be okay. I just need you to-”
You stilled when you heard footsteps come up behind you.
“Well, what do we have here?”
You didn’t recognise the voice and couldn’t bring yourself to turn around to face the person who’d caused all this pain.
You opened your mouth before closing it again, unsure of what to say.
Closing your eyes, you readied yourself for your inevitable death when a shot rang out and a body slumped to the ground beside you.
Jumping at the action, you turned around and almost collapsed in relief at what you saw. Your Mum and her team stood behind you with several SWAT members flanking them.
The tears that had once filled your eyes now spilled shamelessly down your cheeks.
Without saying a word, JJ holstered her gun and ran to your side, hugging you as best she could since your hands were still pressed against Jack’s wound.
Paramedics soon followed and after that it was all a blur. It was as if you were floating outside of your body. Logically, you knew it was the effects of an adrenaline crash but you felt so disconnected from your body.
You barely took note as your mother gently lifted you to your feet, allowing you to be briefly looked over by the paramedics. Nor as your mother escorted you to one of the school bathrooms where she rinsed the blood off your hands.
You didn’t even say a word until you’d arrived back at the BAU where a worried Penelope wrapped you in a tight hug which you returned.
“I’m gonna take her up to my old office, Hotch.”
The Unit Chief simply nodded as he and the rest of the team watched as JJ led you to the abandoned office that was still filled with random case files.
Closing the door, she sat you down on her sofa and stared at you, not touching you in fear that even a simple caress would cause you to shatter.
You exhaled a long breath before finally speaking, “I’m sorry.”
Her brows narrowed, “Sorry? Sweetheart, why?”
You looked at your hands that had been coated in blood less than an hour before and then up at your mother; her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern, love and confusion.
“You told me not to leave and I did. I’m sorry.”
And with that, you started to cry heart-wrenching sobs that made your shoulders shake.
JJ gathered you in her arms, gently rocking you as her long blonde hair draped over you.
“It’s okay, y/n. I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”
Her arms wrapped tightly around you as she laid soft kisses on your head, her hand stroking your back.
That only served to make you burrow into her even more, seeking comfort in her motherly embrace.
You muttered your apologies as she continued to reassure you that you were okay.
JJ was afraid that if she stopped, you wouldn’t be here, safe in her arms.
Still rocking you in her arms, she whispered in your ear,
“I got you, baby. You’re safe now.”
836 notes · View notes
stanknotstark · 3 years
Text
Research and Dating (No They Aren’t Connected)
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“So, if you could kidnap me really publicly that would be great.”
“...why?”
“I kinda forgot about this research essay due tomorrow? And like, my prof knows I’m a hero- I even brought my laptop so I can write it in your cell. Is the wifi password still the same?”
It’s Thursday at 8 P.M. and your essay is due in 4 hours. It wasn’t that you had procrastinated it’s because-nope, ya, you procrastinated. Now you were freaking out about it when the glorious idea came to you. 
There were, of course, perks of being frenemies with Loki. You have visited his his base of operations before, his ‘evil lair’, been thrown into one of his cells and ‘suffered’ until he got bored of the Avengers searching for you like chickens with their heads cut off and made theatrics by showing up to them with you in his hands and ‘failing’ to keep you away from the Avengers saving you. 
In all actuality, you had sat in a golden cell but Loki had sat right outside the cell with a chair and read while eating an apple. You couldn’t read the title of the book so you asked him what it was about and Loki had been a little hesitant but fell into your pure curiosity and explained what he had been reading. You’re sure he liked your curious mind as you started asking more questions and challenged the ideas the book gave. It lead to a long discussion of morals, and death, and at one point whether apples or pears were better. It was fun is what you’re trying to say. 
That’s how your friendship blossomed.
So, you call up Loki, yes he has a cell phone, and ask him without explanation at first, “So could you, like, kidnap me but publicly?” 
You can hear the cogs turning in Loki’s head at your request. “Why?” He asks in a smooth voice, betraying no emotion.
“I kinda forgot about this research essay due tonight? And, like, my professor knows I’m a hero. I’ll even bring my laptop so I can write in your cell, the wifi password is still the same right?” You ask Loki. 
Loki sighs over the phone, you can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose with closed eyes. 
“Yes. Fine. Be at Madison Square Garden in 15 minutes.” The god says and hangs up. 
You smile and pump a fist at your best friend’s save. 
You’re at Madison Square Garden in record time and Loki makes his entrance a show. 
You’re sitting down outside the stadium when Loki materializes from green clouds of magic that open a portal then float into the air as if they’re a sign that’s flashing the words ‘Loki is here!’ in the night sky of NYC. When he sees you he rolls his eyes but people start paying attention so you play along with his ruse.
“Loki! What mischief do you plan to get up to today? It doesn’t matter, I need to bring you in!” You yell at him, almost laughing at how stupid this all seems, and push civilians back behind you. 
Loki chuckles darkly, “You. You are my mischief today, your poor Avengers will never find you. You will become my slave.” Loki says with a voice that is dark but his eyes light up with amusement.
By now hundreds of people have stopped their night to watch you and Loki, phones out and recording everything. 
You smile sardonically at Loki, “Not if I-”
Loki grabs you and pulls you and teleports. When you’re at his base you sigh and pat him on the arm as he pulls from you. 
“Thanks, I owe you big time Lokes.” 
Loki frowns at the nick name you chose. “Please refrain from calling me that or I shall teleport you to your professor and have you face the repercussions of procrastination.” Loki threatens. 
You chuckle, roll your eyes, and head to the cell. It’s just in case someone actually does pop in to ‘save’ you. 
When you’ve settled in the cell Loki raises the golden barriers and magics a chair near to settle with you.
“What do they have you writing about now?” Loki asks. 
You had asked him for help writing other essays because Loki has an eloquent way of speaking. You felt it made you sound smarter and because you spent consistent time with the god you had fallen into talking like him sometimes.
“It’s for my disability class, the sociology class?” You ask Loki if he remembers you telling him about it, at his nod you smile, “Ya, so basically we’re to argue whether we feel prostitution should be legal or not in America considering how much it helps the disabled.” 
You laugh at Loki’s frown. 
“Which side do you argue for?” Loki asks with a small squint as if trying to determine the side before you tell him. 
“I believe it should be legal but have restrictions and rules. If in the wrong hands it could be really bad but at the same time if it’s in good hands it could be really good. It’s a risk but we won’t know how well it’ll work if we never try, you know?” You say with a pondering look. Loki purses his lips but nods at you. 
Loki magics a book into his hands and lets you start writing away. The whole thing is very comforting to you. Sound wise, you can hear Loki let out puffs of breath when he finds something amusing in his book, Then, there’s the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard as you write. Other than that you just enjoy being with the god, even if you aren’t interacting with each other. 
You’ve been harboring a crush on him for awhile but have always kept it hidden. You value his friendship too much to do anything that could jeopardize it. Not to mention, Loki hadn’t shown anything on if he likes you or not. He occasionally flirts with you in battle but that’s about it. So, you feel you know he isn’t attracted to you like that. 
“Loki what’s another word for great?” You mutter.
“Glorious, grand, impressive?” The god supplies you with choices. 
You hum but don’t say anything and continue typing. After you finish your paragraph you look at Loki who glances at you. 
“Thanks.” 
Loki smirks at his book, “Anything for you, darling.” Loki says in a low voice while reading his book. 
See, the nick names had started early on. At first they had confused you but when you had been in battle and helping Tony, Loki had called Tony ‘sweetheart’ so you reasoned Loki just had a thing for nicknames. That doesn’t stop the jolt in your stomach when he does call you sweet names like that though. 
You shake yourself out of your reverie and continue writing. You’re like one, maybe two, paragraphs from being done. You try your best to elongate time to hang out with Loki more but when you finish your essay you don’t have any other excuse. 
That’s why, when you finish and close your laptop with a small ‘click’ and Loki stands and asks if you would like to spend time at his apartment, you’re shocked. 
You stand looking at Loki with wide eyes. 
Loki takes this as an answer and coughs a little, bringing a hand up to rub at his face, he’s trying to hide his embarrassment. 
“I am sorry, I crossed a boundary, it won’t happen again.” 
“No!” You yell, nearly dropping your laptop as you reach towards Loki. You scramble to hold it to your chest again and look at him, shyly pushing a lock of hair behind your ear. 
“I would love to. I was shocked, I always figured I’d be the first to ask.”
Loki looks at you a little doubtfully but sees the truth in your answer and smirks. Instead of replying he waves a hand and the barriers disappear then he holds his hand out to you. You gladly take it and suddenly you’re both standing in a tidy apartment. 
It’s very modern and looks costly. The furniture is all contemporary and different shades of white, brown, and gray, with the occasional splash of emerald green in throw blankets and decorative pillows. You don’t really notice but Loki still holds your hand. 
Loki pulls you by his hand towards his kitchen and puts a kettle of water on on the heating stove top.
“Tea? Or are you more of a coffee person?” Loki asks you with a glance as he pulls out his tea. You finally realize Loki has yet to let go of your hand but you’re not going to complain.
“I love both, but tea will be good for now.” You say lightly, glancing down at your clasped hands when Loki isn’t looking. A small blush heats up your cheeks and you let a stupid smile cross your lips.
You and Loki settle against his bar, still holding hands, while you wait for the water to heat in the kettle. 
“I never had the chance to ask but why are you studying psychology and sociology? I figured a superhero’s salary would be quite enough to live comfortably? Don’t tell me they under pay you.” Loki asks, his tone laced with a threat when he says the last part.
You chuckle. “No, it pays well enough, enough to pay my way through school. I want to help people though, that’s what makes me truly happy. So, naturally, psychology and sociology were natural choices because they help me understand people, the way they think, how they tick, so I can better help them.” You explain.
You look up at Loki who looks at you with an unreadable emotion on his face. Loki then brings a hand up, tucks a rogue lock behind your ear and keeps his hand there. “You are too precious for this world.” He whispers as he looks at you. You feel you cheeks heat up and can’t keep eye contact with Loki. 
Loki clears his throat and drops his hand from your face, looking away from you as well. However, he doesn’t stop holding your hand. You feel your hand become clammy from nerves and hope this doesn’t gross out Loki. At the thought your hand twitches in his and Loki merely squeezes your hand. 
“What other hobbies do you favor, seeing as they obviously kept you preoccupied enough to procrastinate your paper?” Loki asks. 
You smile at the ground because you realize Loki is trying to better know you. 
You look up at Loki again, who is already looking at you. “Well, surprisingly enough research and reading are my main hobbies.” 
“Oh?” 
“I love learning so I read up on whatever subject pulls at my attention at the moment.” 
“And what draws at your attention right now?” Loki asks curious.
You flush and look at the ground, kicking it softly with the toe of your shoe. You mutter the answer.
Loki chuckles, brings his free hand up to tilt your face till you look at him. “Say that one more time, where I can hear it darling.”
“Norse mythology.” You say softly, embarrassed. 
Loki’s eyebrows lift in shock. The look on his face showing that he did not expect that answer at all.
Thankfully the kettle begins whistling and causes the moment to be broken and forgotten. 
Loki makes a cup of tea for the both of you and you both move to his living room, seated on his couch. You’re both sitting close enough to touch at the legs but don’t hold hands anymore. You set your mug on the coffee table in front of you, too hot to hold. Loki however basks in the heat of his cup, his hands wrapped around the mug as if he has just come in from a blizzard.
“I have plenty of texts you may borrow if you want to learn about the true mythology.” Loki offers, looking at you calculatingly.
You had hoped Loki would drop the subject seeing as your research was drawn from your want to learn more about Loki than actual Norse mythology. 
Whatever, shoot your shot, right?
“I’d much rather hear your tales than anyone else’s.” You say, your hands picking at your jeans with nerves. 
Loki hums with a small smile as he takes a sip of his tea. “Of course, darling. There is no better way to learn than from the source of such tales.” Loki says smugly. 
You feel a smile break over your lips as you look at Loki who basks in his arrogance.
“I better watch out, stroking your ego,” You say, Loki raising a brow at your mischievous smirk, “Otherwise you might start sounding like Thor.” You say to knock Loki down a peg. Loki scoffs with a roll of his eyes but you don’t miss the twitch of his lips.
“Do not compare me to my oaf of a brother.” Loki says, finally setting his mug of tea down, resting his hands in his lap. You also don’t miss the twitch of his hands, as if they want to reach out towards you. 
There are too many signs that Loki obviously likes you, it’s almost overwhelming, but you keep yourself pulled together before you ask him the question.
“You know, I’m just kind of going out on a limb here, but uh...You ever plan to ask me out, take me on some romantic dinner or something or do I need to give more incentive?” You say, the confidence in your voice a facade because inside you’re freaking out. 
Loki keeps a blank face as you look at him. Then, he lets a smirk break out over his lips, glances at his tea but his eyes come back to yours. 
“Is that such a good idea? Considering you are still my enemy?” Loki asks.
You grab your tea so you have something to do with your hands, sipping from the earthy, spicy liquid. You let yourself think, letting his question roll off your shoulders and shrug. “I could care less what the Avengers think but we can keep our relationship hidden if that would keep you happy?” 
Loki purses his lips, his eyes squinting at you. “They would cage you, would they not? If they knew you were fraternizing with the enemy?”
“Yes, but I have no doubt you’d let them keep me for long.” You smile at Loki who huffs out laughter. 
“You truly want me?” Loki asks. You don’t fail to hear the insecurity in his tone. 
You set your tea down, grab both of Loki’s hands in yours and look at him, baring all your emotions on your face. “More than you will ever know.” 
Loki squeezes your hands with a soft tilt of his lips.
“Then I suppose it is inevitable. Shall we partake in a date tomorrow night, say seven?” 
You smile at Loki. “I would love to, Lokes.” 
Loki rolls his eyes at the nickname but you know he doesn’t mind it, much. 
Needless to say, you were granted an extension of time to turn in your essay while also scoring a date with your crush.
158 notes · View notes
glitterandgoldrush · 3 years
Note
Can you write a fic or do some headcannons (whichever you prefer) on the bayview four doing a group project their senior year? Thanks ❤️
i was going to write a fic but the headcanons got away from me so:
they all agree to do it bc they’re like “well we’ve definitely solved problems together before!! how hard can it be to work together??”
uh, hard.
they have very different ~vibes~ when it comes to school work
bronwyn is working as hard as she can, and keeps getting annoyed that the others are goofing off. she’s trying to be the balance of like “look i can have fun too!!” but they’re all seeing straight through it to her irritability down below
nate honestly does put it effort for bronwyn’s sake. the problem is that that effort only lasts about 15 minutes, and then he officially gives up, leaning back in his chair (to bron’s scolding about splitting his head open)
addy runs in and out and back and forth with snacks and other various entertainment. she spends 20 minutes picking a playlist until bronwyn looks like she wants to cry
cooper does help, he does, it’s just that cooper has always been raised to do “just enough” in school and focus on baseball, so he doesn’t exactly have the drive that bronwyn’s after
he writes a paragraph or two and gives it to her and she’s like so thankful that someone else has done something until she starts to read it with a little frown on her face
cooper just sighs and goes “edit it however you want”
and she’s like thank you. and starts furiously typing
the others therefore give up on helping her write the essay part, but then she instructs them that they need to build a model
and oh boy, oh boy do they have fun
addy’s covered in modelling clay, nate’s covered in paint, cooper is holding up the table with their project on that addy accidentally smashed into and broke, and he’s asking someone to help him but they’re both laughing too much to realise
oh my god: brownyn ends up facetiming kris for help with the actual academic part of the assignment. and he’s like “where are the others” and she just pans the camera to them covered in mess, and cooper shaking as the table starts to slip from his grip, and kris just sighs and goes “i’ll be there in 20 minutes”
it’s a fucking disaster
they get an a
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lovely-ateez · 3 years
Text
Vampire Shift~
ꕥPosted: 5/23/21
ꕥGenre: Fluff, Smut, Angst, College!au, Horror!au
ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Vampire!Jongho (feat Wooyoung and Minho from skz)
ꕥWord Count: ~5.9k (whoops)
ꕥWarnings: Horror themes, Language, Thigh riding, Unprotected sex, Mentions of blood and blood sucking (please lmk if I missed anything)
ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay
ꕥA/N: I hope you all don’t a more spooky concept! Halloween is my favorite holiday and even though its May, it’s always spooky season to me lolol. Also! Feel free to listen to Vampire Shift by All Time Low while reading this (it’s only on YouTube I cry) since this is inspired by the song :)
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It was a terrible idea, really, to work the night shift at a gas station alone. Even more so when you’re a young woman whose only defense is the pepper spray on her key chain and 911 on speed dial. Alas, college bills don’t pay themselves and every spare opportunity to get cash was one I had to take.
The digital clock sitting on the counter next to me briefly flashed, indicating another hour had gone by. It was currently four a.m. and it was safe to say I was losing my mind. I’d worked for five hours now, and not a customer had come in. That was the only advantage, really. So long as no one was around my boss let me finish any assignments I had, which came in handy on more than one occasion.
I was only six paragraphs into a five page report and had been staring at my laptop screen for over an hour, feeling beyond brain dead. I was assigned the topic of financial statements and country trade deficits, and wanted to cry every minute I thought about it. I was half convinced to pay someone to write the report for me.
The ringing of a bell indicated a customer opening the door and I closed my laptop to peer around the counter, ready to greet whoever entered. The first man to catch my attention was wearing sunglasses which fazed me, but I tried not to stare. The man that followed had black hair with blond underneath, a combination that I strangely liked. Both men were donned in all back, their faces stoic. They were attractive, I had to admit, but neither were my type.
And then, the last man entered. He looked over to me as he walked through the door, giving me a nod and a slight smile. His slicked back black hair matched his black ripped jeans and highlighted his red leather jacket. He was so handsome he looked like he jumped out of a magazine and I had to suppress a ‘wow’. A string of butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I did my best to ignore them, not even knowing his name.
The three of them wandered through the aisles until I could no longer see them, and I scolded myself for being so thrown off that I forgot say any form of a greeting. I sighed and turned my attention back to my laptop, opening it and blankly staring at the screen. My ears perked when I heard the men’s hushed voices.
“Y’oughta get that girl’s number. I saw the way you looked at her.”
“Yeah, Jongho. She’s pretty cute. If you don’t get her number you know I will.”
“Shut up.” One of the men, Jongho apparently, responded with a laugh, “Let’s just get some snacks, okay? It’s gonna be a long night. Also I’m buying tonight so get whatever.”
A smile crept on my face and I looked down, fiddling with my thumbs.
They think I’m cute. Maybe Jongho’s the one in red?
I heard the bell ring once more and a girl entered who I vaguely remembered from high school. She was popular but for good reason, probably being one of the nicest people I’d ever met. Our circle of friends overlapped slightly so I’d spent a fair amount of time with her. She was smart as a whip and gorgeous all the same, which seemed to stay with her. She looked bright, long red hair falling around her face, freckles still prominent as ever.
We met eyes and she smiled, “Hey y/n!”
I smiled and waved, “Hey Annabelle. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in awhile.”
“Good! I got into my dream college and it’s been great, although I’ve had to take some pretty hard classes.” She giggled, walking towards me. It’s honestly not too far from here. You go to Westgate University, right?”
I nodded and I put my laptop aside. She spoke again, genuinely excited for me, “That’s awesome! Congrats!”
“Thanks,” I smiled, “I’m taking it you got into Orholt?”
“I did! I was really-”
One of the men that entered earlier—the one still wearing sunglasses—shouted the redhead’s name and caught her attention, “Hey Anna do you want a Redbull or a Five Hour Energy?”
“Redbull! I’m not a monster.” She laughed.
The man nodded and walked toward us with several drinks and snacks in his hands.
“Oh! I want to introduce you to my boyfriend!” Annabelle turned to the man still wearing sunglasses and reached for his arm, “This is Minho. I met him at Orholt.”
Minho gave me a slight nod as I introduced myself and he placed the food and drinks on the counter. I began to scan the items, the mindless routine that I was used to by now. The loud sound of laughter made me look up, seeing the two other men approach us and place their snacks down as well. I watched them long enough to notice the way two-tone—my new affectionate name for the man with blond and black hair, I decided—shamelessly checked me out, a cocky smile on his face when I caught him. I just let out a small laugh before resuming my task, watching his confused reaction in my peripheral vision.
“Oh my god I totally forgot to introduce you to my friends.” Annabelle giggled and pointed to two-tone, “This is Wooyoung.”
“Hiya, Wooyoung.” I said with a confident smile, enjoying the way he still had a slightly confused look on his face.
“And this,” Annabelle nodded towards the man in red, “This is Jongho. Both him and Wooyoung go to Orholt, too.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jongho. I’m y/n.”
“Very nice to meet you.” The man smiled before he sent me a wink.
I had never been a particularly shy person, but as he did so my eyes darted down as I felt my face flush. I didn’t notice the gears turning in Annabelle’s head as she put the pieces together.
I placed the final items in the bag, raising my head as Annabelle addressed me,  “You know I’m having a bonfire tomorrow night at my place and you should totally come!”
I stopped to think, first trying to remember if I worked the next day, then wondering if I was willing to go the bonfire when I realized I didn’t have to.
She sensed my hesitancy and her face fell, “Aw do you work tomorrow night? It’s a Saturday!”
“Oh no, I don’t. I...” I stopped to think for a minute. Although I likely didn’t know anyone else who would be there, I was familiar with Annabelle’s house, which brought me a bit of comfort, “Are all of you going?”
Annabelle gave a knowing smile, “Yes. All of us will be here.”
I nodded, accepting the credit card Jongho gave me, quickly after handing them the bags, and returning his card, “I’ll go.”
“Yay! We’ve gotta head out but I’ll send you the details. You’ve still got the same number, right?”
“Yeah I do.”
“Alrighty! I’ll see you tomorrow then!”
Annabelle left with a wave, her boyfriend on her arm and Wooyoung behind her. To my surprise, Jongho didn’t leave with them, the cocky look on his face all but telling me why he stayed.
I looked at him with wide eyes, playing innocent. “Can I help you?”
He placed an arm on the counter, his dark eyes seeming to put me under a spell. The confidence he was radiating was almost palpable and I felt myself being pulled to him. It was intimidating, to be honest.
“You’re really cute and I want your number.”
I let out a surprised laugh, “You really don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“No, not really,” He propped his other arm on the counter, leaning towards me and raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, doll?”
A smile crept on my face as I mirrored his actions and leaned towards him, “You gonna memorize my number? Or do you have a phone I can put my number into?”
Jongho’s smile got brighter as he reached to grab his phone, handing it to me. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you?”
I shrugged, “I’d like to think so.”
When I handed his phone back, our fingers brushed and I could’ve sworn I felt sparks shoot through me at the simple interaction.
“Well I need to head out before the rest of them get too annoyed,” He nodded towards the exit where Annabelle, Minho, and Wooyoung left, “But it was enchanting to meet you, y/n.” He bowed, drawing a laugh from me.
“Ah yes. You as well, absolutely delightful.”
He gave me a smile, “I’ll text you later.”
"Sounds good. I’ll hold you to your word.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” And with that, he was out the door, leaving my heart a fluttering mess.
-
Me [8:37pm] So is there a dress code for tonight?
Annabelle [8:42pm] Nope! Wear whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m wearing this if it helps at all!
Annabelle [8:43pm] 1 Image Attached*
Me [8:45pm] So leather jackets and crop tops?
Annabelle [8:48pm] Haha sure! We can match!
Me [8:51pm] Lol bet. See you at eleven :)
Annabelle [8:51pm] See you then!
I started the process of slipping on a white cropped top followed by my light washed ripped jeans. I knew I was getting ready far earlier than I could have, but something about new events made me anxious and I had to make sure I looked nice. I giggled at the black leather jacket I was throwing over my shoulders, not having worn it since high school. In the middle of debating whether or not I should add another layer of mascara to my lashes, my phone dinged.
New Number [8:59pm] Y/n this better be you. This is Jongho and I’m texting you for a really important reason and I need you to reply quick
Me [9:00pm] Yeah it’s me. What’s going on are you okay??
New Number [9:02pm] I’m gonna go grab some food before I head to Anna’s. You wanna come with?
Me [9:02pm] Oh my god don’t do that to me, you buffoon. You scared me so bad rip
[New Number name changed to A Cute Buffoon]
Me [9:03pm] But sure I’m down lol. Here’s my address btw
Me [9:03pm] 1 Location Shared*
It occurred to me perhaps a bit too late that I was sharing my address with someone that I’d met only once and in a gas station.
I mean, he’s friends with Annabelle so he’s gotta be good right? God I hope so. I thought to myself.
A Cute Buffoon [9:04] Then it’s a date :) I live pretty close so I’ll be over in 10. That work for you?
Me [9:06pm] Fine with me!
A Cute Buffoon [9:06pm] Sounds good. I’ll see you soon ;)
I set down my phone and thanked myself for already doing my makeup. I checked myself out in the mirror, satisfied with my appearance and proud of how well my makeup turned out. I grabbed my bottle of perfume and spritzed the liquid in the air, letting it gradually fall on me so it wouldn’t be too overpowering.
You look beautiful, babe.
The waiting game was harder than I thought, not knowing what to do except awkwardly sit around and play an assortment of phone games. When exactly ten minutes had passed I heard my doorbell ring and I lifted myself from my couch, grinning at his punctuality.
I opened the door to see Jongho holding a bouquet of flowers, a smug look on his face. “Lovely to meet you here, stranger.”
I wanted to make a joke back but I couldn’t seem to think of anything, too surprised by the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t anything extravagant, the small bouquet of violets, but I felt my heart swell.
It’s perfect. He’s perfect.
My voice was small when I spoke, “No one’s ever given me flowers before.”
His eyebrows furrowed as a confused look painted his face, “Really?”
I nodded, taking the flowers from his outreached hands and smelling their sweet fragrance, “They’re beautiful.”
My eyes flickered to his, the tender look on his face making me feel as if I was melting on the spot, “You’re beautiful.”
I squealed, my face undoubtedly turning pink while my mind short circuited. I’d never become so shy around someone before and the only thing I could think of to say in response was another ‘thank you’ followed by ‘I’ll go get a vase for these.’
I opened my door further, rummaging through my cabinets for a vase when I noticed Jongho was still standing by the door, “You can come in, you know? That’s why I opened the door.”
He laughed nervously, “Sorry about that. Force of habit, I guess.”
I raised my eyebrows in a teasing manner, “What? Are you a vampire? Can you only come in if someone invites you?”
I thought I saw a flicker of shock on his face for a moment, but it was gone before I could register it and I shrugged it off, my eyes finding the perfect vase for the flowers.
“It’s just how I was raised.”
“I get that.” I placed the flowers in the vase, giving them a bit of water before walking up to Jongho and gently patting his cheek, “Your good manners are appreciated.”
He laughed in surprise, full gummy smile on display as he playfully swatted my hand away from his face, “Alright, alright. Let’s head out already.”
I made a sound of agreement before noticing a slight pink on his ears. I was temped to tease him, but ultimately decided to save it for later. If I could fluster him once I knew I could do it again.
-
The diner we went to was one I’d never heard of before, let alone been to, and I was beyond frustrated that I didn’t even know about it’s existence. It was an adorable fifties style diner and even the attire the waiters were wearing fit the theme.
“This is the cutest place to ever exist, I’m convinced.” I said as we sat down on the same side of a bright red booth.
“I really hoped you would like it. This is my favorite restaurant ever and they have fantastic milkshakes. If you’d like to share one for desert, I’m all for it.” A wink.
I bit my lip and hid my face in the menu that was placed in front of us, thankful for any method of escape.
“You’re so cute.”
“Ahh no don’t say things like that.” I giggled from behind the menu.
His hand grabbed the top of the menu, pulling it down so he could see me, “Why’s that?”
“Because you make me nervous. Like a good nervous!” I tried to explain, which only resulted in becoming even more embarrassed, “I-I mean I’m excited to be around you but I’m also nervous. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.” I cringed at myself. Never in my life did I think I’d be blushing and stuttering over some man, but my god did he prove me wrong.
“Not at all,” he reached over to take my hand in his, “because I feel it, too.”
Before I could properly react our waitress came over, taking our order and effectively saving me from becoming a human tomato.
We handed our menus back to her after ordering and she looked at us with a soft smile, “You two make a cute couple.”
While I was a bit too stunned to say anything, Jongho didn’t seem to have the same problem and went along with it, “Thank you, ma’am. That’s kind of you to say.”
When she left, Jongho leaned closer to me, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by saying that we we’re a couple. I thought that-”
“No, I didn’t mind it!” I bit my tongue after likely saying that way too fast with far too much enthusiasm, but I meant it, “I didn’t mind it,” I said again, softer this time.
The tips of his ears once again turned a faint shade of pink, “Good to know.”
The food was as wonderful as it possibly could’ve been, their fries alone being one of the best things I’d ever consumed. Just as Jongho suggested, we shared a milkshake, which led to shy eye contact and laughter and my crush becoming stronger by the minute.
Just as Jongho paid and we were about to leave, a certain song began to play and he looked at me with an air of mischief, holding out his hand to me, “Dance with me.”
I took his hand, trying to hide my smile but failing. He led me away from the table and next to the jukebox. The area surrounding it was more open, probably with the intention for people to dance near it. He grabbed my waist, holding the hand of mine that wasn’t placed on his chest and looking at me in a way that could make any woman fall in love on the spot. We swayed to the music and I couldn’t help but feel full. Like I’d found all that I’d ever need.
Put your head on my shoulder~
“Do you know this song?” He asked with a smile.
I scoffed, “Of course I do! It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s one of mine, too.”
Hold me in your arms, baby~
I mouthed along to the words as I felt the need to prove it to him. As if to one up me, Jongho began to sing along, his gorgeous voice amazing me.
Squeeze me oh so tight, show me~
That you love me, too~
I blushed as he looked at me while singing along, becoming a bit flustered himself when the lyrics clicked with him.
Put your lips next to mine dear~
Won’t you kiss me once, baby~
As if we were in sync our eyes darted to the other’s lips at the same time. I could feel Jongho’s breathing becoming heavier before he said in a hushed tone, “Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” Was all I could respond before I pressed my lips to his, fireworks igniting inside me when he kissed me back. His lips were so soft and warm and as crazy as it sounded, he felt like home. I felt him smile against my lips as the music continued to play.
Maybe you and I will fall in love~
-
The fire was loud, crackling and lighting up the faces of all those crowded those around it. It was essentially the only source of light in the dark of the night, except for the distant lights still on in Annabelle’s house. My hands were interlocked with Jongho’s as we sat around it’s warmth, both of us finding it hard to separate from one another.
Conversation was flowing all around us, and I was relieved to find that everyone I had talked to was kind and welcoming. I was more nervous than I realized, but having Jongho next to my side alone calmed me. Someone around the fire mentioned an old story involving Annabelle and I began to wonder where she was, having not seen her since Jongho and I first arrived. I mentioned I was going to look for her and he nodded, at first wanting to join me but then getting pulled into conversation with one of his former classmates. I told him I’d head off on my own and he nodded again.
I looked around what seemed to be the entire property and still there was no sight of her. At that moment I heard yelling coming from her house, startling me. I felt my blood run cold when I recognized one of the voices as Annabelle’s. The yelling didn’t sound like it was out of fear, but instead more aggressive, out of pure anger. Without thinking I ran inside, hoping to calm the situation but instead found what seemed to be out of a work of fiction.
An unfamiliar man was on the ground, obviously trying to get away from a hidden figure before him that seemed to be cloaked in darkness. He let out a sound that I’d never heard a human make, one that I couldn’t even compare to something I’d heard before, and a shiver ran down my back. As the figure took a step forward I recognized it as Annabelle, or what seemed to be some version of her. Her normally grey eyes were now bright red, sharp fangs on display as she snarled at the man. A group of people were surrounding them, alarmed looks on their faces but hardly trying to intervene.
“What the hell?” I whispered, my eyes wide as I tried to back away without anyone noticing. But of course, I just had to step on an empty soda can, all eyes pointing my way. As I looked at the people around me, their expressions seemed to mirror mine and I swallowed, suddenly feeling immensely claustrophobic.
I met eyes with Annabelle and she seemed to change in a flash, her eyes returning to their former color and fangs disappearing. She looked more panicked than I had ever seen her which only scared me more. She was always able to keep her stressors under control, but as she stared back at me, I saw a version of her I never had before.
I was barely able to form a sentence, adrenaline coursing through me at a rampant rate, “Um...” 
Annabelle slowly walked towards me, “Oh—hey! Sorry I disappeared for a while but how’s the party going? Are you having fun?” Panic was still evident in her voice but I knew she was trying to keep a hold of the situation.
“I...I don’t-”
A stern voice came from left, and I nervously turned to meet Jongho, an unreadable expression crossing his face, “Y/n.”
“Yeah?” My voice squeaked as I began to regret agreeing to come along in the first place, still hyper aware of all the eyes on me.
“Come with me.”
His eyes softened at my panicked state and he held out a hand, “Please?”
I was hesitant, but being anywhere away from the crowd and whatever Annabelle turned into seemed to be a good idea. I took his hand and watched as he exchanged a look with Annabelle that seemed to calm her. Turning on his heels he led me back to the bonfire, sitting in a chair and motioning for me to do the same. Seeing no one around us gave me a feeling of both anxiety and comfort, and I wasn’t quite sure which feeling was winning at the moment.
“Well I’m sure you have plenty of questions.” He started, “I won’t lie to you and try to convince you what you saw wasn’t real, because it was, but I need you to know that no one is going to harm you. That guy is Anna’s roommate and they get into an argument at least once a week. Sometimes it can be nasty, but they never get physical and neither would ever hurt anyone unprovoked. No one here would.”
I was silent for a few minutes, trying to process what I saw on top of the time bomb of information he dropped on me. “Is she...is everyone....are you a vampire?” I whispered the last words, almost too stunned and afraid to say out loud.
He smiled slightly, his kind eyes making me feel safe. “Yes. We’re what you’d call vampires.”
I took a breath, almost afraid to hear the answer to my question, “Am I in any danger by being here?”
“No, everyone here is good. They don’t pose any threat. There are plenty of dangerous vampires but we stay away from them. Besides,” He placed an arm around my waist, playfulness in his eyes, “If there were, I’d protect you from them.”
“Oh? And how don’t I know you’re not dangerous?”
He leaned closer to me, clearly enjoying this, “You don’t, I suppose. Doesn’t that make it fun?”
“That’s very much debatable,” I smiled for a moment before a frown took over, “Everyone just seemed really...I don’t know, startled I guess?”
Jongho let out a loud sigh, looking down at the ground for a few seconds before looking back up at me, “Humans aren’t normally invited to these parties. It’s assumed that everyone here is a vampire. The perfume that you’re wearing, whatever the hell it is, is masking your scent. If I didn’t meet you before today I wouldn’t have known you were human. I guess Anna didn’t tell everyone, either.” He placed a hand on my knee and looked at me with kind eyes, “How are you feeling?”
“Surprisingly calm considering that I just learned vampires exist.”
Jongho laughed, “Yeah I’d say you’re taking it pretty well. Like I said earlier though, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of questions, so fire away.”
“Yeah I have a few.” I hesitated, hoping he wouldn’t be offended by my question, “Exactly how old are you?”
“Oh are you gonna age shame me?”
“No but it’s probably an important thing to know...since we kissed and all.”
He laughed again and leaned back in his chair, placing his arms behind his head,  “How old do you think I am?”
I used his question as an excuse for my eyes to wander over his body. He was beyond attractive, very clearly fit and he knew it, which equal parts pissed me off and turned me on. As hard as I tried, I kept finding myself being pulled to his thighs. Even through his jeans I could tell he had strong thighs and I had to press my fingernails into my palm to keep from drooling. “From your appearance? Early twenties. From what age fiction usually tells us vampires are? I’d guess you’re a hundred and three.”
Jongho nodded with a smile, “I’m not quite that old but that’s a fair guess. You had it right the first time. I’m a pure born and we actually age, but we don’t age as quickly as humans. I’m twenty.”
“Pure born?”
“It means both of my parents are vampires.”
I nodded as another question came to mind, a smile on my lips. “Do you sparkle in the daylight?”
“Oh my god,” He covered his face with his hands, a mixture of a groan and a laugh escaping his mouth, “No, we do not sparkle in daylight, “His hands came to rest on his knees, “But it sucks that we really shouldn’t be in direct sunlight for over two hours a day. That’s normally the rule to go by. It’ll burn us if we’re in it for much longer than that.”
“So do werewolves and witches and everything like that exist, too?”
“Yeah pretty much. We don’t all get along, but we have to coexist. It’s something we’ve struggled with for a while, unfortunately. Basically everything you’d believe to be supernatural exists.”
I was silent for a while, not really knowing what else to say.
“Y/n? Are you doing okay? If you’re not comfortable being here I can drive you home right now or if you’d rather be alone I can call an Uber or—”
My heart skipped a beat at his kindness. “No, I’m okay. I guess I’m just surprised I’m learning about this just now.”
“We do a good job of hiding it. Also it was probably a given, but keep this as a secret if you can. Having a lot of people know about our existence can be risky.”
I gave him a silent nod, unintentionally leaning closer to him. The sound of approaching footsteps made me jump into Jongho’s arms. I didn’t know why I found comfort in him, knowing that he could be dangerous as well, but he’d been nothing but sweet to me. I had no reason to fear him.
Annabelle approached us but stopped, taking a few steps back when she saw how I was buried in Jongho’s arms.
“Hey y/n.” She rubbed her arm, looking down as if she’d done something wrong.
“I guess Jongho probably told you everything at this point. I’m really sorry if I scared you and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore.” Even in the dark I could see tears beginning to stream down her cheeks and I felt a pain in my chest.
I got up from Jongho’s hold and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her stiffen, “I trust you, Annabelle.”
Those four words seemed to relax her and she returned my hug, still sniffling, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. We aren’t supposed to tell anyone and I thought you might hate me—”
I pulled back, “Why the hell would I hate you? You’re still you.”
She laughed through tears, gripping me tighter, thanking me over and over for not pushing her away.
We’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be okay.
-
Not too long after, Jongho drove me home. The ride was more silent than when we were headed to Annabelle’s house, but the air wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. Feeling tired, I laid my head on Jongho’s shoulder, faintly hearing ‘sleep well, baby’ before drifting asleep.
When I woke, I was in my bed. I reached for my phone on the bedside table and found a little note placed next to it that read:
I hope you don’t mind that I carried you inside. I tried to wake you for like five minutes but you were out cold. Anyways, I had a really good time with you yesterday and I hope you had fun too :) Text me when you wake so I know you’re okay. -J
I looked at my clock and saw that it was still early, but I texted Jongho anyway.
Me [3:00am] Not sure if you’re still up, but I really enjoyed yesterday, too. I’m exhausted so I’m gonna go back to sleep but I just wanted to say I’m okay and everything is good :))
A Cute Buffoon [3:00am] Sleep well, darling. We can talk in the morning
-
It had been roughly a month since Jongho and I started dating, and while I felt like I knew him pretty well, we had only known each other a little over a month, on top of the fact that he was a vampire which was essentially an entire separate culture. I’d asked him most questions I had early throughout our relationship, but one in particular kept replaying in my mind.
We were currently sitting on the couch in my apartment, cuddling each other. The TV was on but neither of us were really watching it. I was far more interested in the warm body in front of me, and based off of how Jongho was looking at me, the feeling was mutual.
I bit my lip, anxiously mulling over the question I’d wanted to ask him for weeks. I didn’t know how he would take it, let alone how I would bring it up, but I needed to ask at some point. Knowing he could probably sense my nerves, I gave in. “Jongho, can a human turn into a vampire?”
He hummed, turning to face me. “Why do you ask?”
“I just...I didn’t know if it could happen or not.”
Jongho chuckled, “Yeah it’s possible. It’s a long ass process to go through though, and there’s a lot that can go wrong, so it rarely happens.”
I shifted in my seat, trying not to appear overly interested. “Why is that? What can go wrong?
He smiled and raised a brow, his cocky persona resurfacing, “You sound so eager to know, dear. Do you want to become a vampire?” His eyes briefly flickered towards my lips before he tilted his head, dragging his soft lips across my neck. I let out a gasp when I felt the tips of his teeth lightly scraping the skin, “Or maybe you’re just looking for an excuse for me to put my mouth on you?”
Like with anything that exuded him, I felt myself becoming quickly overwhelmed, my mind now hazy and distant. I shut my eyes in an attempt to gain some semblance of control over myself.
“Your thoughts are swirling, doll.” Jongho began leaving gentle kisses along the side of my jaw, “Don’t think too much. Just let me take care of you. Okay?”
“Okay.” I said through a short breath, knowing we’d just have to have the conversation another time.
We’d had sex before, so it wasn’t like this was new territory for us, but every time felt like the first, leaving me just as out of breath each time.
He lifted me and placed me on his thigh, dragging me across his flexed muscles. I felt my eyes roll back at the simple motion, my need growing at an embarrassing rate. I grabbed his shoulders as I began to drag myself against him, whines and whimpers spilling from my lips.
“God you’re hot,” Jongho said through hot breaths, beginning to kiss my neck, no doubt leaving marks.
“Thanks I try.” I managed to say, pleased when Jongho laughed.
“You don’t even have to, and it’s completely unfair.” His hands moved under my shirt and danced along my skin, “It’s like you’re an angel come to life.”
I let out a loud moan, feeling tears well in my eyes from his praise, “You always make me feel so beautiful when I’m with you.”
Jongho responded with a smile, carrying me to my bedroom and laying me down on the bed while hurriedly discarding both of our clothes.
“You’re always so eager, babe.”
He nuzzled my neck as he climbed on top of me, his hands finding my own and holding them, “As if you’re not.”
“I never said I wasn’t.”
He then moved in between my thighs, teasing me with his fingers as he ran them along my wet slit, occasionally rubbing my clit, drawing small whines from me.
“Jongho please just fuck me already.”
“Sweetheart, do you even think you’re wet enough for me?” He cooed.
Feeling frustrated, I pushed my fingers inside myself with ease, pulling them out and spreading them so he could see my essence dripping down my fingers, “I don’t know you tell me.” I said with far more sass than I intended.
Jongho’s eyes widened at the sight and wasted no time positioning his cock at my entrance, pushing in and letting out the most beautiful groans.
Neither of us ever bothered to use protection because, to put it simply, vampires couldn’t get humans pregnant. It was only possible when both partners were vampires, and we took full advantage of that.
“Fuck—baby you feel amazing. You’re so warm and tight ohmygod.” Jongho moaned as he began to move, thrusting in and out of me at a steady pace.
I clenched around him, loving when he was vocal. His sounds helped get me off just as much as his actions, at times it seemed.
“You feel...really good...too.” I said through heavy breaths. And as much as I wanted to last longer in bed, with Jongho, I never could.
“I don’t know if it’s because you’re a vampire and you’ve got like magic powers or something or maybe you’re just a sex god—but holy shit...I’m close.”
He threw back his head and had the audacity to laugh, something I really couldn’t stay mad at with how good he was making me feel. “Babe it’s been like six minutes.”
“Don’t be an asshole.” I joked, my laugh turning into a moan. It only spurred Jongho on, making him angle one of my legs up higher, hitting deeper inside of me.
“I know you’re close, baby. I can feel it. Cum for me, baby girl. Let go for me.”
He reached down to tease my sensitive nub, drawing quick circles until I was seeing stars, chanting his name like a prayer.
After Jongho came down from his high, he disappeared into the bathroom as he always did, coming back with a warm towel. As he pressed the towel to my thighs I tried to ask again.
“So...about the human to vampire thing?”
“Well,” Jongho sighed, “I didn’t think I’d be able to distract you forever.” He smiled, “It’s mostly done because couples want to stay together. The thing is though, the vampire obviously gets a taste of the human’s blood and it can be hard to stop once you’ve marked them, especially since smell is such a big allure for us.”
He took a long breath, “Then the human will almost always pass out, and needs to be taken care of for the next couple days because they’ll be so weak. Another problem is that the scent of their blood will be amplified during those days and it’ll be harder for the vampire to not, you know...” He looked away, not able to say the words. I knew what he meant, we both did. In some cases, vampires would kill their human partners for of their blood. Sometimes it was beyond their control. Just a primal need that would betray them. “Then their scent is more easily detected by other vampires and the whole thing is just kinda a mess. I think I’ve only heard of five attempts and only one of them was successful.”
I nodded, not really knowing what to say.
“And then on top of it all, it can be harder for the human to adjust and it can put a lot of pressure on the relationship. Human and vampire relationships are dangerous.”
His face was serious as he ran a hand through my hair. I looked up at him and leaned into his touch.
He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, a shy behavior I hadn’t seen from him before, “I guess it’s important for you to decide then.” His eyes met mine again, “Is this still something you want to continue?”
“Our relationship?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course, are you crazy? You mean the world to me.” I swallowed, realizing he hadn’t voiced his own thoughts, “What about you? Do you want this?”
“I think you have a pretty good idea of what I want.” He smiled and pressed a quick kiss to my forehead, his eyes sparkling.
“Hey Jongho?”
He hummed, looking at me.
“I want to spend forever with you.”
126 notes · View notes
lyrical-panic · 3 years
Text
Love Letters
Tenya Iida X Writer!Reader
(This is absolutely a self insert leave me alone)
Requests are open!!
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Tenya's morning routine was always the same. He was awoken by his alarm at 6:20 A.M. He went to the bathroom and washed his face. Then he'd get dresses, comb his hair, and go downstairs for breakfast. After he'd eaten, he would brush his teeth, and head to class with his peers.
This system was so ordinary, so methodical, that he almost missed the folded sheet of printer paper on the floor in front of the door.
Probably Mr. Aizawa, he'd thought, stooping to collect the note. His teacher occasionally left notes taped to the class rep's door, asking him to take attendance or start class if Aizawa knew he was going to be late. Still nothing out of the ordinary for Tenya.
When he unfolded the paper, though, he was surprised to see not a message from his teacher, but rather a very sweet note; something that Tenya was not accustomed to getting at all.
I hope it does not alarm you to hear that I adore you. Your unbridled passion for heroics, your eyes; which are oceans of kindness, and your aptitude for helping others. Every little bit of you never once ceases to amaze and enamor me. Though you are a vessel for speed, you choose to walk alongside your friends, instead of tearing off into the future. You build me up and make me feel strong, whether you realize it or not. You make me feel like I'm actually worth something. You keep my head up when I feel as though I'm drowning in a sea of my insecurities.
Perhaps one day I'll have the courage to tell you this in person. For now though, this will suffice.
The letter was not signed off, but rather ended with a red pen sketch of a heart. Tenya's eyes nearly doubled in size. He re read the note several more times to make sure he hadn't imagined the loving words. Who could've possibly written it? He wasn't aware of anyone in his class who harbored these kinds of feelings, much less for him, but he had never been particularly good at reading emotions.
Realizing he was going to be late for breakfast if he dwelled any longer on it, Tenya pocketed the love letter and headed downstairs. The mystery would have to wait until after school. His responsibilities always came first, no matter how often his mind still wandered back to the letter in his pocked, yearning to pull it out and read it yet again, just to make sure he still wasn't dreaming.
. . . 
Whoever had written the note was smart, Tenya realized. They had typed it, leaving no room for the possibility that he could recognize the handwriting. The only part that had been done by hand was that little red heart, but a doodle wasn't nearly enough to tell him who the author was.
He turned instead to analyzing the words themselves.They were well chosen, poetic even. The fifty cent words like "unbridled" and "enamored" led him to believe that the author was an experienced writer, or perhaps simply read a lot.
Yaoyorozu was a good contender, she was an eloquent speaker. Kaminari also read a lot, he was good with literature. And there was Tokoyami, who seemed to speak exclusively in poetry. Tenya jotted down his ideas, crafting a short list of his classmates.
"Oh, (L/N) writes a lot," he mused, adding their name to the list. (L/N) actually made a lot of sense.
Oh, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Perhaps he only read the love letter in (L/N)'s voice being he wanted it to be them.
...or maybe it actually wasn't a bad idea.
(L/N) was always writing. They viewed it as a privilege, a challenge. They leapt at every creative writing assignment they got in English class, and the few stories they had shared were spectacularly inventive and elegantly crafted.
Tenya halted, scanning the message again. It suddenly seemed more and more likely that (L/N) was in fact the author.
He chewed his lip. It was too easy. Too convenient. Too perfect. How could someone he already cared for so deeply send him something like this? It was too good to be true. Besides, it was only one note. How could be possibly-
"What if they write more?" Tenya suddenly said out loud, his train of thought coming to a screeching halt. "I'd have a better line up to analyze. I could also ask Present Mic for the short stories assignments he's grading so I can pass them back. I could probably be able to look over at least a few of them and see if I recognize the writing."
A man on a mission, Tenya resigned himself to waiting until the next day to see if another note appeared, and to ask Present Mic about the stories.
Too anxious and oddly excited, he hardly got any sleep.
. . . 
Sure enough the next morning, there was a new note. Tenya all but flew out of bed and scrambled to unfold it.
I find myself caught in a storm of uncertainty all too often. I'm tossed from wave to wave in an ocean of fear. You are my rock. You hold me fast and secure in this ever-changing and frightening world. You are safe. You are my home.
You are my everything.
Tenya unconsciously read the letter in (L/N)'s voice again. He felt his heart beat harder at the thought of them penning these beautiful words.
"You don't know that it's them," he scolded himself, unwillingly placing the new note on his desk next to the old one. He tore himself away from them to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for the day.
The new message did offer one new clue already, though. It used the same ocean metaphor as the first one. It was a comparison the author seemed to favor. Maybe he could find it in their other works.
He had to get his hands on those short story assignments before he lost his damn mind.
. . . 
Tenya felt slightly uneasy about telling Present Mic he wanted the stories to pass back, even though he was technically telling the truth. He was eventually going to pass them back. When he was done looking through them.
A lie of omission is still a lie, that annoying voice in his head insisted, but he pretended he couldn't hear it, pushing it down. It wouldn't do any harm, he rationalized. And he had to know.
Tenya flipped through the papers, looking for (L/N)'s first. It was a desperate wish that they were the author of the anonymous notes, but it also seemed to make just enough sense to justify thumbing through their assignment.
There. (L/N) always went above the beyond with creative writing, and the five pages of neatly typed text was a testament to that. It was the longest assignment in the stack by two pages.
Wait.... typed?
It was probably a coincidence. After all, (L/N) hadn't been the only student who'd opted to type their story. Tenya was too convinced already that they had sent him those letters for him to entertain the idea that it was simply just a coincidence.
He skimmed the story quickly before class started. He found himself impressed, not for the first time with (L/N)'s abilities as a writer. Each word was carefully selected to craft perfect sentences and immaculate paragraphs full of feeling and vibrant imagery.
He stopped suddenly a page in as the protagonist compared their anguish to a stormy sea, heavy waves tossing them to and fro.
There it is again.
The sentiments from the letters, which Tenya had all but seared into his brain, echoed that of what he was reading now. The vocabulary, the imagery, the deep feelings evoked by each sentence, and even the fact that it was typed.
It had to be them. It had to be (Y/N). It was just too perfect.
. . . 
(Y/N) sat a few seats ahead and to the right of Tenya, so he spent quite a bit of class time staring unabashedly at the back of their head. They were scribbling madly on a sheet of lined paper. Lecture notes? Short story?.... Love letter?
People often say that opposites attract. Tenya was just realizing how true that was as he sat in class, half listening to the lesson, half watching (Y/N). He was all angles and sternness, whereas they were flexible and soft. Perhaps it didn't always show physically on their features, but in their mannerisms, and even in their writing, they were stunning curves, twists and turns. With them, you didn't always know where you were going, but it was an adventure all the same. They were a warm, comforting feeling. They felt like home.
An idea bloomed in Tenya's mind, a delectably wonderful way for him to show (Y/N) that he reciprocated their feelings. Having a difficult time smothering his smile, Tenya fished through his school bag for a sheet of lined paper.
. . .
You frowned thoughtfully at your paper, lips pursed. You tapped your pencil against your dorm room desk as you considered your next words.
This was the hardest, part, but still the most fun. The first draft. You could change whatever wording or dialogue you wanted while you were typing it up, nut you still needed a good base. You still had to carefully choose every word that you wanted to use to move your audience.
Tenya Iida
You grinned giddily just thinking of him. He had given almost no indication these past two days that he'd gotten your letters, but you could tell. His eyes had darted around, scrutinizing everyone they landed on. It had felt a bit like being dissected when his gaze had fallen upon you.
There's no way he knows, you had reasoned, giving him a tight smile in return. He's just trying to sus me out. For all he knows, it could be literally anyone.
You had ridden that wave of shaky confidence in your anonymity, all the way to that moment, where you turned around in your desk chair, intending to grab your phone, only for your eyes to fall upon a folded up piece of paper next to your door.
You felt an anxious lurch in your gut as you shakily picked it up. "If this is Iida telling me to never speak to him again I'm going to cry."
You unfolded the message, fully expected the worst, and praying to whatever god was or wasn't out there that you were wrong and that Iida wasn't completely creeped out and now hated you.
You remind me of the ocean waves you write about so often. You're a crescendo of carefully chosen words, actions, and kind thoughts. You're soft yet strong, never backing down from a fight or a friend in need. Your determination and drive impress me to no ends, and make me want to impress you as well.
You've cast a spell on me for quite some time now, but your hold over me was only strengthened by the heartfelt messages you sent me. I'm beyond happy that you share my feelings.
The letter wasn't signed, but it was written in what was distinctly Iida's penmanship. He had ended his message the same way you had ended yours; with a hand-drawn heart.
"Oh my god," you whispered, paper crinkling as your grip tightened around it. You read it again. Then again. And then again. "Damnit, he's right. I do use the stormy sea metaphor a lot."
Note still clenched in your hand, you sped-walked to Iida's dorm room, heart thundering in your chest. The thought that Iida; sensible, respectful Iida would have feelings for a disaster like you was a little discombobulating to say the least, so you were determined to hear it straight from the horses mouth.
You rapped on his door, foot tapping impatiently. The few seconds it took for Iida to answer dragged on for what felt like an eternity. When he finally did open the door, a pleasantly surprised look crossed his face upon seeing you.
You held up his note. "Hi. Um, so."
Iida chuckled, cheeks reddening. He gestured you in as he stepped back to his desk, where he produced the letters you had sent. "So."
"Y-you're not messing with me, right?" you asked nervously. "'Cause if you are I'm going to kick you."
"Trust me, everything I wrote is 100% true." He smiled earnestly. "And you...?
"I think those letters are the most honest I've ever been about my feelings ever." you admitted, shifting your weight from foot to foot. A wry smile played on the edges of your lips. "I was drafting you another one, but you just had to go and find me out and ruin it."
"You can still give it to me," Iida said hopefully, palming the back of his neck with his hand, flustered.
You laughed a little, your own cheeks warming up. You twisted the hem of your shirt. "Uh, can I hug you?"
"O-of course!"
You wrapped your arms around Iida's torso, resting your head on his chest, listening to the drumming of his heart. He slowly followed suit, snaking his arms around your shoulders. He let out a contented sigh, relaxing into your touch. He was so warm. He was a cozy fire in the dark of winter, a blissful reprise from a cold and harsh world.
You pursed your lips, stifling a snicker. I've gotta write that down.
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A quick analysis of the puppy scene in 3x15, because my OTP is perfect.
This is honestly just a whole lot of gushing and flailing, tbh. Because Kurt and Blaine and their relationship are wonderful and I love them so, so much. So much so that I can write paragraphs on a scene that is barely one minute long. 
This somehow ended up being much longer than I intended, oops. Hope you enjoy it :)
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We start off this scene with Blaine alone at his locker, presumably putting away his belongings from his last class, and you can still see Kurt’s ‘Gay-diddy-gay-gay-gay’ class council election poster on the inside of Blaine’s locker, even months after Kurt lost the election. But Blaine still keeps it up, because he loves Kurt, and if he had it his way, Kurt would win everything. Awww. He appears to be deep in thought, and when Kurt hides behind Blaine’s locker, speaking in the world’s most adorably terrible British accent, it startles Blaine for a second.
And man, does that make me sad. This is a kid that has been bullied, undoubtedly shoved into lockers and pushed here and there just like Kurt was. He hears an unfamiliar voice and immediately flinches back in fear, expecting the worst. 
But it isn’t the worst - it’s the best. Because it’s Kurt, the person Blaine loves more than anything, hiding behind the locker, and it’s Kurt speaking in that cute-ass accent holding a stuffed puppy in front of his face. 
(Side note - I once read that Chris Colfer improvised the dialogue and accent of this scene, as well as coming up with the name for the puppy, which totally checks out since Chris is a huge Anglophile.)
And as soon as Blaine recognizes his boyfriend, his face breaks out into the sunniest smile, and he does his signature “Kurt-made-me-laugh” move, the blushy head-duck (see here for reference). 
Kurt also looks similarly delighted to see Blaine, because Blaine is lovely and Kurt loves him so, so much, and because he’s also excited to show Blaine the gift he got him and help Blaine out with his problems. Kurt really loves Blaine, y’all. He looks so damn proud of the stuffed animal he got for him and equally proud of his own ability to make Blaine laugh with his clever puns. 
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Kurt goes on to explain that Finn won the stuffed puppy while out at the amusement park for Senior Skip Day, along with thirteen others for Rachel, and as soon as he says this, Blaine nods along as if to say - oh, of course, that Rachel - because Blaine is considerate as hell and knows his friends very well. And in honest-to-god Kurt fashion, bb stole the puppy from his brother, because Kurt is the definition of Be Gay, Do Crime, and he also recognizes that Rachel does not need 14 different stuffed animals. 
He pouts a little right then, telling Blaine that he wanted to give it to him so that Blaine would have something, since Kurt wasn’t able to convince Blaine to go with them on the field trip. I wonder how that conversation went. 
Also, pouty Kurt is fucking adorable. Protect him at all costs.
Blaine is melancholy again, telling Kurt that he would have just brought the mood down for the group. And when Blaine says this? Kurt stops beating around the bush and gets straight to the point. 
Sweetly stroking the stuffed puppy, Kurt tells Blaine that he understands him. That he gets that family problems are hard, because they’re hard for him too. He uses himself as an example to try and get his point across to Blaine more effectively, and mentions that he and Finn disagree on nearly everything, but at the end of the day, they love one another and are always there for one another despite their differences. 
I’m also getting so many brotherly Furt feelings from Kurt referring to Finn as “the big lug” and talking about how much he loves him. Ugh. I also cry at the line where Kurt tells Blaine that he only has one brother and shouldn’t give up on that, given what happens to Finn. I wish we’d gotten more of that relationship in canon before Cory’s untimely passing, because they clearly had so much love for one another, both on-screen and off.
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Anyway, Kurt sees the love he has with his brother and wants Blaine to be able to experience the same thing, because he loves Blaine so, so much and he thinks that Blaine deserves everything great in this world. He also brings back the cute-ass accent, and upon seeing Blaine look upset, bumps Margaret Thatcher Dog against Blaine’s cheek to get him to smile again - which Blaine absolutely does; his face is bright and sunny again because of Kurt’s silliness. Awww. 
Kurt tells Blaine never to give up, and Blaine indignantly responds that Cooper is the one who is leaving for a big audition. Kurt pauses, and tells Blaine that Cooper hasn’t actually left him yet. He says that Cooper is waiting in the auditorium, hoping that Blaine will come and talk to him and make things right. This line very strongly implies that Kurt and Cooper coordinated this, and that Kurt made an effort of talking to Cooper to try and arrange a meeting with Blaine - because in a matter of mere days, Kurt was able to glean how important their relationship was to Blaine and wanted to do everything he could to fix it. Give him all the boyfriend awards, folks.
I’m kidding. Please don’t start the Better Boyfriend Olympics again, lol.
Blaine huffs out that talking doesn’t actually work with Cooper, and that he’s tried it to no avail. And Kurt just nods knowingly, as if he was aware that Blaine would say that. And though it isn’t explicitly mentioned, I bet he did know. He then goes on to say that perhaps talking isn’t the best answer for Blaine. Maybe there’s something else, a better method of communicating his feelings that would work more for Blaine. 
Okay. You know what this reminds me of? Flash back a year, to Silly Love Songs. This is (perhaps unintentionally) a direct callback to 2x12. Back when Blaine was still crushing on someone who is not Kurt, he said this to the Warblers about his idea to serenade Jeremiah. 
Blaine (2011): I'm not really good at talking about my feelings. I'm much better at singing them.
And here are Kurt’s words, from more than a year later. 
Kurt (2012): Maybe talking is not the answer. Maybe you need to show him how you really feel in the best, most honest way you know how. 
Can I just stop right here and squeal a little bit? Because Kurt knows his boyfriend so, so well. He remembers the things that Blaine tells him, even things from over a year ago. He holds onto this key piece of information about Blaine, because Blaine is important to him and the things he tells Kurt are worth remembering. And here, in this scene, he puts his memory to good use to try and remind Blaine of his most effective and heartfelt form of communication so that he can help Blaine mend fences with his brother. 
GIVE HIM THE BOYFRIEND AWARDS, FOLKS!
Kurt is so, supportive of Blaine and just wants the best for him, and it just boggles my mind when people claim that Kurt didn’t love Blaine as much as Blaine loved him, because from even short simple scenes like this one, anyone can tell that it isn’t true. 
After listening to Kurt, Blaine stops, and for the first time, genuinely considers it. Prior to this, all of Cooper’s attempts at talking couldn’t get through to him. Blaine still felt the jealousy and resentment from all those years growing up. But after hearing Kurt’s advice, he puts that aside and realizes that some things, like family, are more important, and so he makes that decision to go see his brother and try and express his feelings in a different way. 
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Blaine turns to go meet Cooper, and Kurt watches him go, looking so damn proud of his boyfriend and so, so hopeful...
Y’all know what happens next. Blaine and Cooper, a pair of brothers, sing a breakup song. Yet somehow, it works. Singing manages to communicate all of those emotions that were suppressed before, and opens the doors for real conversation between the two of them. They do successfully patch things up, with Cooper finally recognizing Blaine’s talent and Blaine trying to support Cooper in future endeavors. They are on a path to a close relationship, which is all both of them had ever really wanted in the first place. 
And if not for Kurt’s advice, this may not have happened. Y’all heard that right - Kurt Hummel helped Blaine patch things up with a member of his family because he knew how important it was to Blaine, and he knew how badly Blaine wanted this even if Blaine didn’t let it show. From all the bits and pieces of information we’ve gathered over the years about Blaine’s family, they don’t appear to be all that close, which is why it’s even more important for Blaine that he is able to reconcile with his brother.
(For more of my thoughts on Blaine’s family, feel free to check out this analysis of mine. Yeah, this is a shameless self promo. Deal with it.)
So...what was the point of this analysis? I’m not quite sure. I suppose I just had a lot of feelings about Blaine, Klaine, family, and the way that Kurt shows love. Like I’ve said millions of times, just because Kurt is more subtle in the way that he shows love to Blaine, doesn’t mean that it’s any less powerful. Scenes like this, in which he handpicks Blaine’s own words and uses them to push Blaine towards something he was too afraid to admit he really wanted? Kurt helping reconcile Blaine with his family? This is Klaine at its best, and scenes like this are why I will always, always ship this couple. 
Kurt and Blaine are incredible, y’all. 
Peace. 
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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years
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florence (iv)
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warnings: smut!! in the middle but you can see it coming if u wanna skip over it
wordcount: 8.3k
______
Six and a half hours and two transfers later on the train, Sophie and Rafe made it to Florence. They’d fallen asleep on each other multiple times and woken up with cricks in their necks or imprints of each other’s clothing onto their cheeks, and were both running on little sleep - somehow, he’d convinced her to go skinny dipping off a little cove at 2am the night before. She lasted about ten minutes in the water with him before she spotted someone with a flashlight along the beach and freaked, practically sprinting out of the water to pull her wet clothes back on and shove Rafe’s at him. (He’d hissed at her to relax until they heard yelling of “arrêter! Policiers!” They put together pretty quickly that it was “stop! Police!” and booked it back to the hotel, giggling the whole way.)
Despite Rafe’s tired grumblings, she made him freshen up and walk with her to go get dinner at a place a few blocks from the hostel. It was only 6, but they both hadn’t eaten in a while and had to be up early for an architecture tour Sophie had scheduled at 8am. He took two looks at the menu before handing it to her - she raised her eyebrows, skeptical. “You know what you’re getting?”
“It’s Italy. I want pasta every day.”
“Every day.” She repeated, doubtful.
“Every day. And gelato, every day. Those are my two requests.” He nodded, sure of himself.
“I think we can manage that. Did you learn Italian too over the summer, you want to order for us?” She teased, holding back a smile.
“C’mon, my Spanish wasn’t that terrible. It really wasn’t.” He protested, kicking her gently under the table.
She kicked him back reflexively, maybe a little too hard, and just rolled her eyes when he made a show of dramatically grabbing his leg. “It wasn’t awful. You just had zero accent, that’s kind of important.”
“Whatever, I’ll work on it.” He grinned. “You can teach me where to put my tongue.”
“Your ability to make anything sexual is impressive.”
“Wasn’t even sexual, but good job on you for twisting it.” He smirked, leaning across the table and lowering her voice. “Hey. Guess what.”
She did the same, reaching out and taking his hand. “What.”
“We’re in Italy.” He whispered conspiratorially, squeezing her hand.
“Yeah, and…?”
“When you were drunk on FaceTime once, you told me we needed to have sex in every country.”
She blushed, raising her eyebrows. “Did I?”
“You did, and I’m holding you to it. I got us single rooms in the hostels for a reason.” Rafe wiggled his eyebrows back with a smile, trying to get her to laugh. “But there’s like, a 98% chance I fall asleep on you if we try anything tonight, so we can check that off the list tomorrow.”
She had to hide a giggle as their waiter came over to take their order, turning it into a cough into her elbow. When the waiter left she shook her head, grinning. “Tomorrow’s fine. I appreciate the honesty.”
“Any time.”
_______
The next morning, Sophie woke up to her third alarm in a row with Rafe still blissfully asleep next to her, his arm curled around her middle and her leg thrown over his waist. She nudged her head up, knocking against his chin. “Hey.”
He stirred just enough to pull her closer and bury his face into her hair. “Shh. Sleeping.”
“We gotta get up, Rafe, we need breakfast before our tour.” She started scratching gentle circles on his chest, placing short kisses up along his neck. “Up.”
“If you keep doing that something else is going to get up.” He mumbled, humming contentedly with his eyes still shut. The hostel was busy with other kids their age and he’d woken up to the sound of two groups trying to open their door - twice - and their drunken whisper-yells. Sophie, of course, slept peacefully through the whole thing.
“We don’t have time for that.” She placed a kiss on the tip of his nose and tried squirming from his grip unsuccessfully. “Come on.”
“Five minutes.”
“Two.”
“Four.”
“...Fine.” She settled her head back onto the pillow, sighing as he grinned and nuzzled against her. “Only ‘cause you’re warm.”
“Yeah, what the fuck is up with the temps? This place is an icebox.” He replied, slipping his hand under her shirt and cupping her breast.
“Rafe.” She elbowed at him, a warning tone to her voice.
“M’ just holding it. You’re warm.” He argued, brushing his thumb over her nipple and smiling to himself when she let out a tiny whine. She made the mistake of pressing her hips back into him, just a little, and he groaned quietly into her ear. “Careful there.”
“You’re not seriously - oh my god, Rafe.”
He wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest, just pushed his hips against her ass. “Can’t help it. I have my beautiful girlfriend in my bed that I haven’t seen in months.”
“It wasn’t even that long -”
“It was a whole quarter of a year without you, Sophie, now hush and let me sleep.” His tone took on a teasing lilt and he brushed his fingers down her stomach, making her tense. “Unless you’d like to do something else.”
“We don’t have time.” She told him firmly, knocking his hand away. He grumbled and pulled his hand out from under her shirt, settling his arm around her waist instead. “Lame.”
“You’re lame.”
“Okay. Good comeback. You’ve lost your touch.” He quipped with a tone of amusement, pulling her close again. Her alarm went off and he sighed dramatically, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Let’s skip.”
“We’re not skipping, we might never be in Florence again and I’ve wanted to see the Duomo and Palazzo Vecchio for years.” She twisted in his grip just enough to place a quick kiss on his lips then sit up, stretching. “Get up.”
“I’ll bring you back - no, Sophie, stay -” He protested weakly, reaching for her.
She smiled fondly at the way he was all squinty in the mornings, adjusting to the lights and trying to find his glasses, but her smile gave way to a pout she knew Rafe couldn’t say no to. “Baby, please? I don’t want to be late.”
“Fine.” He yawned and dragged himself out of bed, pulled on his glasses and shoved his feet into sneakers, just wearing his boxers. “I’m gonna go pee.”
“You’re not gonna at least throw on a shirt? Or shorts?” She questioned, eyeing him over with no shame.
He caught her gaze and flexed his chest, smirking. “Not if you’re enjoying the show.”
“You’re the worst.” She informed him, leaning over to give him a kick to the ass. “Go.”
As requested, she pulled out his clothes for the day after she got ready, finding a certain kind of pride in the fact that he trusted her in his appearance. She grabbed his wallet from the desk too, ready to stick it in her backpack, but paused when she realized it was a little thicker than normal, barely snapping shut. Curiosity got the best of her and she flicked open the wallet, pulling out a couple wrinkled and worn pieces of paper from one of the slots.
Rafe returned just as she was smoothing it open. “What are you doing?”
She startled, quickly turning and holding the paper behind her back. “Nothing! Just putting your wallet in my bag. So we didn’t forget.” She clarified quickly, cheeks blooming red at being caught.
He smirked, kicking off his shoes and striding closer. “If you wanted money, you could’ve just asked.” He teased, reaching around behind her. “Whatcha got?”
“Nothing.” She twisted, trying to set it on the desk without him noticing, completely unsubtle.
“Oh. You found your letters?”
Sophie paused. “My letters?”
“Yeah, that’s what they are.” He nodded and started pulling on his clothes for the day.
She brought it from behind her back to read and brightened, realizing it was two scraps from the many letters she’d sent to him when they were apart. He’d just cut out the two sappiest paragraphs she’d written, embarrassingly, as she found it much easier to express the extent of her love for him through writing rather than face to face. She pouted a little, skimming over them. “Baby.”
He turned back to her and ran his thumb over her bottom lip, shaking his head. “Hm? No pouting, little fish.”
“Little fish?” She quirked her brow, confused.
“Yeah, remember that one time you blamed your crying during finals week on being a Pisces moon? Pisces is the fish, I think.” Rafe reasoned, taking the papers out of her hand and carefully tucked them into a zippered pocket of his suitcase. “Since you’re here with me now, I guess you’ll just have to tell me how much you love me in person instead.”
She beamed up at him, adoringly. “I love you so damn much.”
He grinned and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her close to kiss her slow. “Love you too, Soph. My favorite girl.”
Fifteen minutes later, the two of them strolled out hand-in-hand to the hostel cafeteria and picked through some pastries for breakfast, Sophie promising him a protein bar from her backpack when he complained he’d be lightheaded by eleven. He snapped a photo of her when she recoiled at the strong cappuccino with zero cream or sugar to cut it with, laughing as she tried her best to hide a cough. They found a spot at an empty table and it wasn’t long until a friendly couple came up to them with twin smiles.
“Hi, can we sit?” The girl asked, already setting down their plates.
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” Rafe replied, gesturing. Sophie noticed that his slight Carolinian accent came out a little more in Europe instead of in Ohio, as if he was trying to mimic a little bit of the Spanish and Italian accents and butchered it in his own special way. (She hadn’t corrected him yet, finding it endearing.)
“Thank you! I’m Elena, this is Marco.” Elena introduced herself, sliding into her seat.
Marco gave them a nod and pointed at Rafe, hesitant. “It’s...Jake?”
“Rafe.” He corrected, then explained to Sophie, “we met in the bathroom.”
“Your boyfriend is built.” Marco informed Sophie with a grin, making her laugh. “I know. I’m Sophie, it’s nice to meet you both. Are you just visiting, or…?”
“Yes, we’re from Milan, we wanted to make a weekend trip.” Elena confirmed. “And you? Americans?”
“North Carolina, yeah.” Rafe nodded. “Sophie was studying abroad in Barcelona, then I came to tag along.”
“Oh, so cool!” Elena grinned. “Do you have plans today? I love Florence, it’s beautiful.”
“It is, yeah.” Sophie glanced down at her phone, then back up at them. “I’m sorry, but we have to run, actually, we have a tour to go to this morning. But no plans later.”
“We will meet you by the Duomo, then, around lunch! We can show you around.” Marco declared, handing over his phone to Rafe to put in his phone number - he was a little confused, but did so anyways. “You guys don’t have to -”
“No, new friends are always fun.” Elena waved him off with a smile. “Enjoy your morning.”
Sophie brightened, slipping out of her chair. “See you later!”
Rafe followed her back to their room, and turned to face her after shutting the door with a skeptical look. “He was flirting with me.”
She laughed, packing up her backpack for the day (she’d bought the little leather bag in Barcelona and it was now one of her most treasured possessions, carrying her camera and sketchbook every day). “Don’t be ridiculous, you just have a big head.”
“No, I swear, he was giving me a look this morning when I walked back from the bathroom.” He insisted.
“I think you’re misinterpreting things, he was probably confused that you were shirtless. They were friendly, we should meet up with them! New friends!” She grinned and slapped a protein bar into his hand, as promised.
He furrowed his brow a little but slipped the bar into his pocket. “How long do I have to share you for?”
“Rafe.”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He amended quickly, leaning down to give her a sweet kiss. “Ready to see your Domo and whatever?”
“Duomo, baby. And the Palazzo Vecchio.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Uh huh.�� She held out her hand with a grin. “C’mon, Florence awaits.”
He took her hand and raised it, guiding her into a twirl. “We certainly can’t keep her waiting, then.”
______
Rafe wasn’t sure he absorbed a single word of the self-guided tour. Twenty boring minutes in, he’d turned down the volume on his audio pack that they’d rented and just observed Sophie and the small look of awe on her face at every new turn, the way she nodded enthusiastically when she recognized a piece of information shared on the audio. He decided he would be perfectly content with just watching her for the rest of his life, to see the way her face lit up when she learned new things and got to share that information with him.
He listened just enough to be able to hold a conversation with her afterward, but his intro to architecture class that he’d had to drop midway through the first month of the semester didn’t really give him a strong enough background to keep up. Sophie made him pause the audio several times too, so she could tell him a story about the architect or about the construction of the buildings - he did his best to look as interested as possible. She could tell he was losing interest, just a little, but carried on anyways, just excited to share her passions with him.
After finishing the tour and returning their audio devices a little early, they took a seat out on the steps of the piazza as they waited for their new friends. Sophie took out her sketchbook and started drawing the front entryway of the Duomo, and after two minutes she ripped out a sheet so Rafe could doodle too. (His sketches were much less refined, a little rough around the edges, but they made up for it in character.)
“Do you think they’ll show?”
“Marco and Elena? Yeah. They sounded genuine.” She replied, her tongue poking out a little in concentration as she sketched.
He suppressed a grin and snapped a quick photo of her before she could realize. “How long do we have to hang out with them?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe go to lunch, let them show us around and if we like them we can hang out more?”
“Hm. You think we’ll like them?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we?” She reached over and adjusted his hand, trying to help him draw a straighter line, but he just scowled and went back to his usual method.
“We don’t know anything about them.”
“That’s the whole point of staying in the hostel, baby, to meet people.” She nudged her foot against his, giving him an eager smile. “C’mon, you like making friends. You’re good at it.”
“Okay, fine, but I have something planned for us tomorrow afternoon.” He told her, raising his eyebrows.
She huffed, exasperated. “Rafe, I promise, we can have sex later, but I’m not wasting the day in bed -”
He laughed, flicking at her knee. “No, no, not that, but I like where your mind is at.”
“Oh.” She cocked her head a little. “What is it?”
“A surprise.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Not an expensive one, I hope?”
He made a show of pulling out his phone, dramatic. “Siri, cancel the private shopping tour at Gucci please.“
“Rafe Cameron.” She fixed him with a glare, unamused. He grinned back and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “I know you better than that, don’t worry.”
“You’d better.” She rolled her eyes, then brightened when she saw Marco and Elena approaching and gathered up her sketchbook and pencils back into her bag, along with Rafe’s little drawings. He followed her gaze and stood, visibly steeling himself a little - she instantly nudged him to relax.
It didn’t take long for Rafe to warm up to their newfound friends, especially when Marco showed interest in his camera and when Elena asked him about his film minor, and enthused about how jealous she was that she couldn’t study something fun like that. He was a little caught off guard when they each got kisses on cheeks as a greeting, but didn’t mention it when Sophie shot him a look.
As promised, the two gave Rafe and Sophie a mini tour of the city, stopping for gelato twice along the way. After a solid few hours of walking and chatting, they stopped at a fountain by their hostel and sat around it to take a break.
“This fountain is special to us, you know.” Elena smiled at Marco and he nodded, tugging her down to his lap.
Rafe cocked his head. “Why’s that?”
“It is where we kissed for the first time.” Marco revealed with a raise of his eyebrows. “There’s a legend, if you throw a coin in here over your shoulder and it makes it to the top tier, you will find your lover.”
“Or lovers.” Elena added with a grin and dug in her pocket, then tossed two coins to Rafe and Sophie. “Here. I’ll tell you where it lands.”
Rafe tried handing his back, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want to waste your coin. I already have Sophie.”
Elena pushed it back into his hand, insistent. “You never know what will happen. It’s just good luck.”
Sophie looked a little confused but accepted the coin, tossing it in. Marco let out a whoop as it landed in the top tier, making a satisfying clink. “There you go!”
Rafe scowled but flicked his in too, looking a little smug when it joined hers up top. “See, I told you. Your lover’s right here.” He slipped his arms around her waist from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and mumbled, “Stupid fountain.”
Elena laughed, gesturing out to the crowd milling around. “Your lovers could be anywhere. Love is meant to be shared with more, yes?”
“...Sure.” Sophie leaned back into Rafe, content. “How long are you two here for?”
“We have as long as we’d like.” Marco shrugged. “Wherever the wind takes us.”
Rafe chuckled quietly into Sophie’s hair, murmuring. “Sounds like your worst nightmare.”
She just hummed in agreement back to him. “Oh. We leave in two days, early in the morning. Do you have plans tonight?”
“Probably a club.” Elena grinned. “You should come! We will teach you the tricks, get you the good Italian drinks. Sophie, I can show you how to flirt for the free drinks, the Italian way.”
She held back a laugh as she felt Rafe’s grip tighten a little around her. “Going out sounds fun. I’m not sure I have the right clothes, though, I sent a lot home already…”
“I have clothes! We will share.” Elena dismissed her immediately, then got up off Marco’s lap, tugging him up. “We are meeting with friends for dinner, but we will meet you later? At the hostel?”
“Sounds good.” Rafe nodded, letting Sophie go, and was surprised when the two of them said goodbye - again - with cheek kisses, Marco included. Once they were out of earshot, Sophie giggled at the bemused expression he wore. “I think you should start greeting James and Colin that way.”
He scowled. “James would participate. Colin might deck me.”
“Yeah, probably. I miss them.”
“More than you missed me?” He raised his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes, shoving at his chest. “Of course not. Don’t be weird.”
“I’m not being weird.”
“You are being weird, you get all overprotective and I know you wanted to say something earlier when she talked about flirting.” She took his hand and intertwined their fingers, giving it a little squeeze.
He softened a little and leaned down to press a kiss against the crown of her head, ignoring her remark. “What do you think she’ll have you wearing?”
“No clue. We’ll see, I guess.” She shrugged. “We have a few hours to kill, what do you want to do?”
“Hmm. We can go see the David?” Rafe tipped his head in that direction, and Sophie visibly brightened. “You want to go to an art museum?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it’s cool. One of my buddies went last year and said it was worth checking out. Plus, air conditioning.”
“My two favorite words.” She grinned.
____
Later that night, Sophie walked out of the girls’ dorm with Elena to meet the boys, looking extra hesitant. She wore a black bikini top, maneuvered differently so it was upside down and strung up to push her boobs together, with an open back. One tug of a string and it’d all come undone. It was paired with a leather miniskirt and Elena insisted on doing winged eyeliner and soft pink lipstick too, all completely out of Sophie’s comfort zone.
Rafe’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw fell open a little. “Soph.”
“She’s gorgeous, yes?” Elena grinned, giving Sophie a little push on the shoulder toward him.
“Yeah, definitely, stunning.” Rafe nodded, searching her face. Sophie gave him a small smile, clearly uncomfortable in the attire. “It doesn’t look bad?”
“No! No, not at all. Do you like it…?” He questioned. “I can go get an extra shirt of mine from our room, if you want a little more, uh, coverage - not that you need to cover up, but -” He started, stepping toward that way even without her encouragement.
“No, um, I think it’s okay.” She grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Just a little...different. I just need a drink. Or two.”
He paused. “You’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” She nodded, then gave him a wry grin. “Just make sure no one accidentally tugs at this string or I think it’s all coming apart.”
He clapped his hand against the string at the back of her neck protectively. “You got it.”
“Ready? You look nice, Sophie.” Marco asked, sending her a polite smile, then stopped in front of Rafe. “No, wait.”
“Something wrong?” Rafe frowned, then widened his eyes as Marco reached out and undid two more buttons on Rafe’s shirt that already had three unbuttoned, so his chest was basically on full display. His attire was completely out of character for him, a short-sleeved maroon silk button-down that Marco had insisted on, but he wore it well. Sophie stifled a laugh.
“There! Much better. Now we go.” Marco took Elena’s hand and they led the way, starting the walk toward the club.
Sophie giggled at Rafe’s bemused expression and reached over and undid another button with her free hand. “You look extra slutty tonight.”
“Extra slutty?” He emphasized in mock outrage. “Maybe I’ll be the one getting us free drinks.”
She grinned. “How about we make it a competition?”
“Go on…”
“Whoever can get to...um, two drinks first wins.” She decided.
“Just two? Why not go the whole night?” He cocked his head.
“I don’t think I’m going to drink too much tonight.” She reached up and tugged at the bikini string to tighten it a little, pushing her boobs together more. “I feel like my tits are gonna fall out at any second.”
He snorted. “Say the word and I’ll give you my shirt.”
“I know you would, baby, but I think you need some semblance of decency too.”
They were practically glued to each other’s side all night despite their bet, with her being stressed about her outfit and him being overprotective. (Sophie noted that Rafe looked remarkably comfortable in the overpriced and fancy club environment, while she felt wildly out of place. For a moment she wished she’d taken him to Monaco just to see how quickly he’d assimilate, even though she knew she’d probably hate it.)
They took two shots with Elena and Marco and lost both of them shortly after, not expecting them to leave so soon. After they said hasty goodbyes, not returning, Rafe slung his arm around Sophie’s shoulders and kept her close. “I’m pretty sure I just saw Elena making out with some girl on the dance floor.”
Sophie furrowed her brow, leaning into him. “You’re sure? Isn’t she dating Marco?”
He shrugged. “Dunno, maybe it’s their thing. I swear it was her.” He grinned, repeating Elena’s words from earlier. “Your lovers could be anywhere, remember?”
She rolled her eyes. “She’s a little out there. When we were getting dressed she dragged a crystal down my spine and told me I had to align my chakras.”
“Kinky.” He quipped, laughing when she shoved at his shoulder. “Whatcha thinking, want to stay?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
She shook her head. “I’m tired and my feet are killing me. Let’s just head back?”
He took the rest of her drink and tipped it back, then set it on a nearby counter as they walked out. “Exactly how tired are you?”
She grinned. “I could stay up for a little longer. I saw your packing skills, might as well put them to good use.”
Rafe blushed - she’d found a whole strip of condoms in his bag on the first night in Barcelona and immediately teased him, asking how many nights he thought they’d be doing it. He merely responded by shrugging and ripping one open, setting it on the bed like an invitation. (She had accepted. Of course she did.) “We might as well take advantage of your top. Easy access, y’know.”
She rolled her eyes and checked her hip against his, shaking her head. “You have me, you know. You don’t have to keep constantly flirting.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Touché.”
_________
Rafe’s planned surprise for the next day was a bike tour (“so you can live out your Lizzie McGuire dream,” he’d told her, but she didn’t have the heart to correct him that technically Lizzie rode a Vespa in Rome).
The bike tour was out to a small winery where they had a private dinner and both got drunker than they expected, especially Sophie. The owners of the winery made them a three-course meal and kept coming out with more and more wines to try, successfully convincing Rafe to order three bottles to be shipped home. When Sophie nearly fell only a few feet after attempting to ride the bike back, the owners laughed and just ordered them a cab - Rafe thanked them with a tip that was probably a little too excessive, but his drunk brain didn’t care.
When they tumbled into the car, Rafe immediately pulled her feet into his lap, running his hand over her shin. She gave him a look and tried twitching away but he wouldn’t let her, keeping a firm grasp on her ankle. In Spanish, a little slurred but near-perfect, Sophie told the driver their address and the name of the hostel. Their driver nodded and responded something in Italian - neither of them could understand, so they just nodded back.
Rafe dug his thumbs into her calf and she nearly moaned, biting her lip. “Oh my god.”
“That good or you’re just drunk?” He smirked, continuing his motions.
She let her head flop back against the car door. “Both. You’re drunk too. My brain is working funny though.”
He raised his eyebrows, smiling. “I don’t think it is. What’s 15 plus 26?”
“Rafe, you know I can’t do mental math, unfair.” She whined, pulling her leg back a little so his hand slipped back to her ankle.
He swapped her legs, massaging into her other calf. “Not gonna take your shoes off in the car, sweetheart, you’ll have to wait for more.”
“Sweetheart. That’s new,” she repeated, mulling it over. “You know what?”
“What?”
“If you gave me a foot massage right now, I genuinely think I’d marry you on the spot. No contest.”
“No contest implies there is competition, Soph.” He pushed both her legs off his lap, ignoring her squawk of protest, and slid into the middle seat so he could buckle her in and lean into her.
She tucked her head into his side comfortably. “You’d marry me too. Wouldn’t you?”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Hm. No.”
She whined, squeezing his thigh. “Rafe!”
“Sophie!” He mimicked her whine, although much quieter, and pushed her hand away from his leg. “No, I wouldn’t, you deserve a big party and a pretty white dress. Plus, wouldn’t you want our friends there?”
“I suppose.” She hummed, pulling his arm a little tighter around her shoulders. “Sometime, then.”
“Yeah, sometime.” He agreed, starting to play with her hair. It wasn’t long until she fell asleep on his side, always extra sleepy when she was wine drunk. He snapped a picture and sent it to Allie and Julia, who instantly demanded a Facetime session.
A few minutes later, the cab dropped them at the hostel and Rafe had to practically drag her sleepy body out of the car and haul her inside. He convinced her to stay awake just long enough to get into their room, then let her flop onto the bed as he untied her shoes.
She perked up a little when she heard the familiar ring of the Facetime call. “Who’s that?” He scooted in close to her, pressing his cheek to hers to fit them both on the screen with minimal effort. Allie and Julia picked up right away and both their faces broke out into a grin.
“Mom and Dad!” Julia exclaimed.
Sophie grinned back, immediately taking the phone from Rafe and shoving him away. “Hi!”
“She’s drunk.” Rafe informed them unnecessarily off screen.
“I am not, shh.” She snapped at him. “Hi guys! I miss you!”
“How’s your trip? I want to hear all about it!” Allie asked right away.
Sophie glanced at Rafe, the wheels turning in her head. “Should we tell them? Are we allowed?”
He furrowed his brow. “Why wouldn’t we be allowed?”
“Okay. So we had sex last night -”
“Jesus, Sophie, no -” He immediately wrestled the phone away from her as Allie and Julia both cried out with a chorus of “no, stop!”
“You said it was allowed!”
“I didn’t think you were going to talk about that!” Rafe rolled his eyes and gave them an apologetic smile. “We’ll be home in a little under a week, Soph can catch you up then. On the less explicit details.”
“You taking care of our girl, Cameron?” Julia asked, smiling as Sophie nuzzled into his side like a cat - she was always extra touchy when drunk, even just with the girls.
“Technically, she was mine first.” He pointed out.
“Technically, you made her cry after multiple fights before you ever dated, so no. She’s been ours since freshman year.” Allie corrected.
“I can be everybody’s.” Sophie mumbled, taking Rafe’s hand and placing it on her head so he’d get the hint and start playing with her hair again.
“Polygamy. Spicy.” Julia quipped.
“I would like to have sex or go to sleep now.” Sophie announced without a care in the world. “Can we hang up?”
Julia snorted, while Allie rolled her eyes.
“You’re not gonna talk to your friends?” He asked, trying to hand the phone back to her, but she just shook her head and pushed it away. “M’tired.”
“You just said you wanted to have sex.” Julia said.
“Yes, I’m not gonna do any of the work.”
Rafe shook his head and angled the phone back to his face. “Okay then. Sorry, guys, we had way too much wine at dinner. We’ll see you soon?”
“Yeah, of course. See you soon! Bye, Soph!” They both chimed in, waving until they hung up. He dropped the phone, amused. “What was that about?”
“Honesty is the best policy.” She told him, sprawling out onto the bed. “Alright. Have at me.”
He rolled his eyes. “No. You need to shower, then we can go to sleep.”
She sighed dramatically. “Rafael.”
“That is not my name.”
“Okay. Rafe.”
“Yes.”
“Can we please have sex?”
“No we cannot.”
She pouted, rolling over onto her stomach and looking up at him. “Please? I’ll let you go down on me.”
He laughed. “You’re so generous. No. Come on, shower time.” He gathered up her towel and clothes for her to change into after, then tugged at her hand. “Angel. Up.”
“Shower with me.” She demanded, getting up and following him out the room with only a few stumbles along the way.
“You want us to get kicked out? I don’t think so.” He ushered her into the small shower stall, slipping in behind her and locking the door, then helped her undress, dodging multiple kisses. He folded her clothes and set them aside then gave her a small push into the shower that he’d turned on for her. “Okay. I’m going to wait outside.”
“No, no, stay.” She yelped as the water hit her, ice cold, and fiddled with the handles. “Fucking - oh my god -”
Rafe quickly jumped forward and adjusted them to the right temp, then turned his back on her. “Fine, I’ll stay, but only because I’m worried you’ll drown.”
“Can’t drown in a shower, silly.” She reached out and shoved her soapy hand through his hair and he sighed, turning back to look her in the eye. “Sophie Flint. Please behave.”
“You behave.” She gave him a mischievous grin, then lowered her voice to a whisper despite there being no one else milling around in the bathroom. “Come in.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not completely. Not anymore.” She argued. “I’ll go down on you.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “If you really want to, you can save that for the morning. Finish your shower so I can get in. I’ve decided I don’t trust you to stay alone in the room.”
“Or you could get in with me…” she trailed off, tugging him down for a kiss - he gave in just for a moment before glancing away, trying his hardest to ignore his naked girlfriend - wet and covered in soap suds, no less.
“Soph. Rinse your hair.”
She crossed her arms, stubborn. “No.”
“Oh my god.” He rolled his eyes and double-checked the lock before he stripped down and got in with her, nudging her back under the feeble shower spray. He figured he’d have to shower anyways, and the faster he got her back to bed, the better. “Rinse.”
“Do it for me.” She protested, resting her head against his chest. He sighed but tipped her head back into the water and massaged his hands through her strands, stilling for a brief moment when she let out a breathy moan. “Hey. Can’t do that.”
“Sorry, can’t help myself.” She excused, then reached up onto her toes to lather shampoo into his hair once he was finished. He ducked down a little so she could reach, pressing his head against her hand. “M’ gonna be hard if you keep that up,” he mumbled.
She giggled. “It’s just shampooing. And I think you’re halfway there.”
“It’s intimate.” He protested, nearly melting into her touch. He loved when she played with his hair, how gentle she was (except when she’d occasionally tug on some strands to get his attention).
After shampooing and rinsing his hair, she lathered soap between her hands and smoothed it over his chest, over his shoulders. He swallowed, watching her and feeling like his skin was on fire despite the warm water waning. “You’re still drunk.” He mumbled.
“Not really.” She pressed a kiss to his neck, then another, then along his collarbone. “I know what I’m doing.” His illogical side was beginning to give way to her actions, especially as she sunk to her knees in the shower, running her hands down his thighs. “Let me.”
“Baby…” He was hesitant and clearly worried about being caught, and reached down to tip up her chin. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. Although this is twice now that I’m getting cheated out of shower sex, kind of rude.” She grinned up at him.
“Sophie, I will fuck you in the shower all you want when we’re home - oh, shit -” He nearly gasped as she took him into her mouth, jerking his hips involuntarily. She gagged and immediately pulled off him, pinching his thigh. “Jesus, Rafe, trying to bruise my throat or something?”
“I had no warning! I’m sorry!” He exclaimed in a hushed whisper, fumbling for the shower faucet to turn it just a tad hotter as it rained down on his back. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”
“I mean, we can try it, but another time, okay?” She smirked as his eyes went wide and she licked up the underside of his cock, carefully taking him into her mouth again. He let out a deep exhale and bit down on his knuckle to keep himself quiet, letting his head fall back against the shower wall. She continued bobbing up and down on him and when he looked down after a few moments, he nearly choked watching her touch herself at the same time.
“Sophie - let me -” He tried, but she just hollowed out her cheeks and moved on him a little faster, and he could tell from the way she hummed around him that she was close too - impossibly close. He pushed her gently off of him and hauled her up to stand, even though she protested, and traded places faster than she could think, hooking her knee over his shoulder and going straight in with his tongue.
She gasped, a little louder than intended, and he sent her a warning look. They could hear some giggles from down the hall, coming closer and closer, and she panicked, tugging at his hair to bring him up, but he refused to stand. “Be quiet.”
“Rafe you know I can’t -” She pleaded, then pressed her hand tight to her mouth when the door opened and he continued to eat her out with no sign of stopping. Realistically, there was no chance of getting caught unless they were heard - they were in one of four locked shower stalls and even Rafe couldn’t be seen over the top, despite his height. Another gasp caught in her throat as he flicked his tongue across her clit, faster, and she felt like she might black out when she came.
He looked up at her and she could barely see the blue rimming his pupils, eyes dark with lust. That was enough to push her over the edge and she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a not-so-quiet whine.
The girls’ conversation stopped out by the sinks and one of them spoke up, loudly. “Did you hear that?”
Rafe stood after working her through the orgasm - as always - and clamped his hand over her mouth, reaching down in between them to jack himself off as he whispered in her ear. “Don’t make a sound. You’re so good for me, Soph, so fucking special.”
She felt like her legs were jelly and her head was spinning, in a haze post-orgasm (and the excessive steam in the shower didn’t help). She pushed his hand away and kissed him, hard, grinning against his lips when he uttered a soft groan, painting her stomach with his cum.
He rested his forehead against hers, trying his best to breathe quietly, a different girl spoke up. “No, I didn’t hear anything. Probably just the shower faucet being weird.” There was a murmur of agreement and the group left, the door swinging shut to make a loud exit.
Sophie let out a small laugh of disbelief, shaking her head. “You’re…I can’t even think.”
“Incredibly sexy?” He supplied with a grin, nudging her back under the shower spray and handing her the body wash to clean herself off.
“Incredibly insane, more like it.” She shivered once she was clean and flicked off the faucet. “You went from no sex tonight to near-exhibitionism all within the span of a half hour.”
He glanced at his watch before wrapping her in her towel. “Forty-five minutes since we’ve been home, actually, it’s a miracle the water wasn’t ice.”
She patted herself dry and pulled on her clean clothes, scowling as she had to shove her feet into her mildly sweaty shoes. “Um. You need fresh clothes.”
“Right.” Rafe paused, then stacked his clothes on top of hers and wrapped her towel around his waist. “This’ll do. You leave first?”
“Good call.” She grinned and slipped out of the bathroom unnoticed, back to their room, and was under the covers when he returned. “C’mere.”
He tugged on clean boxers and called it good, slipping under the covers with her and drawing her close. “Sleepy?”
“Yeah.” She grinned to herself and pressed a chaste kiss to her jaw. “Baby.”
“Hm?” He closed his eyes, feeling like he could fall asleep at any second.
“You’re so easy.”
“Easy?” He echoed. “Maybe. Just for you.”
“Aw. Slutty just for me.” She grinned and rested her head on his chest, sighing contentedly when he wrapped his arms around her. “Good night.”
“Night, love you.” He mumbled.
“Love you too.”
_____
After another long day of exploring (and five gelatos, between the two of them), Sophie and Rafe agreed to meet up with Marco and Elena to go out again before they left. Rafe insisted on buying Sophie a better outfit for going out, despite her protests, and they ended up buying three outfits instead of just one. The night started out tame, with Marco and Elena actually sticking by Sophie and Rafe - until Marco kept buying more and more shots of limoncello and sambuca.
The sambuca shots came to their table on fire, and Rafe was a little too enamored by the flame by the third round he’d consumed (Sophie passed hers off to him, a little worried about her ability to keep an eye on him otherwise). When she noticed Rafe’s terrible typing on a Snapchat to Colin and James, she leaned up to yell in his ear. “Hey! I’m going to go get water. No more shots.”
“I’ll come!” He got up from his chair and immediately stumbled, gripping the table. Marco caught him by the arm, laughing. “I can watch him. It’s okay.”
She nodded and pressed both hands to his shoulders to keep Rafe in place. “Okay. You stay here with Marco, I’ll be right back, baby.”
“Promise?” He frowned, reaching out for her.
“I promise.” She pressed a kiss to his temple. “Stay.”
After fighting her way up to the bar, and poorly communicating that she wanted acqua, water, not acqua di cedro, an Italian liqueur, Sophie finally made it back to the table after ten minutes - just in time to catch Marco leaning in and kissing Rafe.
Rafe had leaned in a little too, misreading and thinking Marco was just trying to tell him something in his ear over the loud crowd. He jerked away with wide eyes just so Marco caught the corner of his lips, then abruptly looked around in shock to see if anyone else caught it.
Marco cocked his head, confused. “You are not interested?”
Sophie came up and handed Rafe the water, tucking herself into his side protectively. “What’s going on?” He gaped at her for a second then back at Marco, trying to gather his thoughts. “Interested?”
“In me.” Marco nodded. “We have been flirting.”
“We’ve been what?” He repeated, in shock.
“I’m his girlfriend.” Sophie clarified, gesturing between the two of them. “I thought we told you -”
“Yes, and I have my girlfriend too!” Marco nodded, tapping Elena on the shoulder and bringing her close. “What is the issue?”
“Oh, did you ask?” Elena brightened, sending Sophie a flirtatious grin. “Did they say yes?”
“I’m too drunk for this.” Rafe mumbled, pressing his palm to his forehead.
“Wait, wait, so. You two want to hook up with Rafe -” Sophie started, only for Marco to shake his head. “No, no, both of you. You for Elena.”
“I thought you could tell? We were flirting all week!” Elena exclaimed, and both Sophie and Rafe thought back to several incidents over the past few days that they’d just chalked up to the Italians being friendly. Kisses on cheeks, Elena telling Sophie to toss coins in the fountain so she’d meet her lover in Florence, Marco complimenting Rafe’s body multiple times when he came back in just a towel after the showers - shit, were they really that oblivious?
Rafe just groaned and dropped his head down to Sophie’s shoulder. “I’m so drunk.” She laughed, more out of confusion than anything. “Um, I’m sorry, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re not really inter - well -” She paused, debating for a moment and glancing up at Rafe to make sure she wasn’t speaking for him. (In her defense, she wasn’t sober either.)
“No!” Rafe exclaimed.
She nodded quickly. “Right, right, yeah. We’re not really interested, I’m so sorry if we gave you the wrong idea.”
“Oh. I would not have kissed you, I am sorry -” Marco began to apologize, but Sophie shook her head. “It’s okay! It’s okay, he’s fine. Um, here, you can have these, I think I need to get Rafe back home.” She pushed their waters into Elena’s hands, giving them an awkward smile.
“Will we see you at breakfast?” Elena asked as she smiled back, completely unfazed.
“Um...yeah. Maybe. Rafe, c’mon, let’s go.” Sophie looped her arm around his waist and tried pulling him out of the club, and he just dragged his feet along. “I can’t believe he kissed me.”
“Shh,” she giggled as she hushed him, tugging on his arm. “Rafe, cooperate, please.”
“I’m trying, I’m trying.” He grumbled, standing slightly more upright and doing his best to walk with her once they finally made it out. She got out her phone to look up the directions back to their metro stop and he wiped his hand over his mouth, scowling. “I need a kiss.”
“You nearly got one from Marco.” Sophie quipped with a smirk.
“I didn’t want a kiss from Marco.” He lamented with a big sigh. “Need one from my girl.”
“Just one, then we gotta make it home.” She complied, rising up on her toes to give him a short kiss. He grabbed her chin, not so gently, and tilted it back up to give her another kiss. “No. More.”
“I’ll kiss you as much as you want when we get back. Will you please help me and walk to the metro? One block, then just two when we go to the hostel. You can do it.” She pulled out of his grip and looped her arm in his, trying to get him going. “Rafe. Please.”
“So whiny.” He mumbled, but followed along. “Sophie, baby, Soph.”
“Yeah, bud?”
“My legs feel like jello.”
She grinned. “Kissing Marco had you that weak-kneed?”
“Shut uppppp.” He whined, messing with her hair. She jerked away, swatting his hand. “Hey! Quit.”
“You quit.”
“Shut it.”
He was quiet for a solid minute and she could tell he was thinking something over, with the way his brow was furrowed and lips were pursed. “Sophie Flint.”
“Yeah?” She was grateful when they arrived at the metro, tugging him onto the empty car and scanning their tickets. She wrestled him into a seat and eventually ended up on his lap after some pushing and pulling, his forehead pressed to hers. “What, Rafe.”
“Were you gonna sleep with Elena?” He looked concerned and his hands gripped her waist a little tighter.
She laughed, pulling back to brush his hair out of his face. “No, baby, I wasn’t going to sleep with her. I didn’t even know that’s what they were trying for.”
“Oh. Good. I don’t think I’d like you sleeping with someone else.” He told her, closing his eyes a little as she combed her fingers through his hair.
Sophie held back another laugh, nodding. “Yeah? I didn’t think you would. Don’t fall asleep on me, buddy.”
“Boyfriend. Not buddy. Buddy’s just a friend. I can have other nicknames too though.” He argued, letting his head fall back against the metro walls.
“What other nicknames?” She asked, moving to get off his lap, but he just tightened his grip on her so she couldn’t.
“Hm…I’m okay with smokeshow.”
She snorted, nodding. “Alright, smokeshow. We can go with that.”
“Sophie.”
“Yes, Rafe.”
“I’m in love with you.” He declared, leaning forward and placing a kiss to the bridge of her nose. She beamed and leaned in too to bump her nose against his, then press a short kiss to his lips. “You’re very sweet when you’re drunk.”
“I need you to say it back.” He frowned, tugging gently at the ends of her hair.
“I’m in love with you too.” She grinned. “Adore you, even.”
He hummed, looking her over with concentration and a small smile. “I like the sound of that. Do we have to go to breakfast tomorrow? I don’t really wanna see them again.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Our train to Rome is at seven, I was kind of hoping they’d be too hungover to remember us.”
“Hostel breakfast doesn’t open til 8.” He frowned. “Am I gonna starve?”
Sophie rolled her eyes and nudged her nose against his. “No. I’ll make sure you get food.”
“You’re so good at taking care of me.” He smiled sleepily, pulling her closer and dropping his head to her shoulder.
She beamed, combing her hand through his hair. “I try my best, baby. Always will.”
taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney @babeyglo
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idy-ll-ique · 3 years
Text
Balisong.
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x F!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Roommate AU
Requested: by @tom-hlover
Tom Hiddleston x (roommate) reader where reader is harboring a secret crush on Tom, but she thinks that Tom only sees her as a friend, she loves to sing when she's alone, and sends Tom letters through the mailbox making it seem from another place,but in reality the return address is from her friend's address whom is out of the country and lets reader use the address for now, as she is serving as the house's caretaker as well 😅😅 until Tom finds out and also turns out hears reader's singing? And I was thinking of the song "Bali Song" by Rivermaya for that one particularly 😅😅😊😊
Summary: Y/N, who is roommates with Tom Hiddleston (omg they were roommates) has a crush on him and instead of confessing her love like a normal person, she writes him love-letters using a fake identity and address. What happens when Tom finds out, though?
Warnings: None
Author's Note: Hey guys! Special shoutout to @tom-hlover for the prompt, finished writing it under an hour so you have to excuse me if it's crappy. Enjoy!
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Y/N POV:
"Oh, look, another letter from the secret admirer. I wonder what she wrote this time."
I looked up from where I was tending to the houseplants and gave Tom a quick grin. "Endearing words, as always. She does like you a lot," I professed with a slight chuckle, giving him a small smile and looking away when I felt a blush creeping up on my cheeks.
Tom sat down on the couch and opened the letter. "Dear Tom…" I stopped listening after that, I knew the whole thing to heart anyway. Wondering how? Well, I was the one who wrote it, simple! Let me explain. I'm Y/N Y/L/N and the person I was speaking to? Tom Hiddleston, my roomie.
Yeah we lived together; we had been friends for a long time and I needed a place so Tom offered to keep me at his home until I found another home. Nearly 5 years had passed since that incident and now we sort of just lived together, fallen into a nice, daily routine. I also happened to have a huge, huge, huge crush on him. Knowing how many other people, much better than myself, adored him, I kept my feelings to myself.
Oh and by the way, I paid my share of the rent so don't come at me! "She's so sweet with these, I might just pay her a visit! What is the address?" I looked up, wide-eyed as Tom took the envelope in his hand. "Do you really need to?" I blurted out, turning red when he squinted his eyes at me. "Do you know this person?" he blinked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course I don't," I muttered, "You know what? Fine, go meet this person. I just hope they're not, you know, a psychopath." Yes, I knew I was talking about myself but was I wrong, though? Instead of confessing my feelings like a normal person, I was sending letters to my crush like I lived in the Victorian Era, using my best friend's address while she was out living somewhere else.
"I'm sure she's not. Anyway, what are your plans for later?" He let out a yawn, slouching on the couch. "Nothing much, I finish some work and then bam, dinner time." Tom laughed. "I have an interview early tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep early tonight. What do you want for dinner?" I shrugged. "Anything's fine, thanks!" He ruffled my hair and got up, going to the kitchen.
Okay, I see a lot of you are staring in confusion, let me clear things up yet again. I liked Tom for nearly 3 years now, but had no idea how to proceed with my feelings. Did he even like me back? Would he even like me back? That's when my best friend gave me a brilliant idea.
She said she was moving elsewhere and that her previous house was going to be empty but she was still going to be the owner. "Hey, Y/N, maybe you can go live there if you want!" she suggested. And I told her, "Hm, I'll think about it." Ever since then, I was the caretaker of the house, visiting it once a week to see if everything was okay with it.
One day when I was there, looking out the balcony into the garden, I came across the said brilliant idea. Why don't I just send letters to Tom from this address confessing my love?! He didn't know about it, and I technically won't be telling him anything in person. A great way to get the feelings off my chest while not getting the feelings off my chest!
Ever since then, I had started writing letters to him, once a week. Most of them were small, one paragraph long, along the lines of "hey how are you I love you thanks" while in some, I included lovesick quotes from famous authors like William Shakespeare, Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen or Anaïs Nin. Tom was a fanatic of classical literature, it only made sense.
With a sigh, I got up and went to my room, getting started with my work only to end up spending all my time on social media until Tom called me over for dinner.
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Tom POV:
"Ah, yes, this is the address," I said to myself, stopping outside a beautiful estate surrounded by pretty gardens. I parked the car and stepped out, heading to the door. As I was about to knock, I noticed that the door was locked. "Huh?" I whispered, maybe she wasn't home at the time? "Excuse me, sir? I saw your car parked outside…" I turned to see an old man blinking at me.
"Where's the woman who lives here?" I asked him. "Woman? This house has been empty for years, son, the last woman that lived here moved to the colonies 3 years ago." My eyes widened. So all this time, I was getting letters from… a ghost? Or was someone using a false address?
"Are you sure no one comes by, or anything?"
"Well, a fair young lady does stop by every week. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N, very polite and kind, she's like a daughter to me. She looks after the house; she's looking to move in, I guess but I'm not sure. Nice meeting you, young man! If you do want to meet up with the pseudo-owner, Y/N, she will stop by next Sunday at 11 am."
"Oh, I wouldn't need to do that," I muttered, bade him farewell and got back into the car. Well well well, things just got… interesting. I smiled widely as I drove back home. I had no idea Y/N felt the same way! All this time, the one-sided pining was actually mutual pining… it all ends today. Now that I knew she liked me back and my love wasn't in vain, there was nothing that could stop me from confessing.
Upon reaching home, I quietly opened the door only to see that Y/N was in the kitchen, singing a song unknown to me as she cooked. Like a thief, I tiptoed in and quietly closed the door behind me. I walked up to the kitchen, stopping when I heard the lyrics.
To speak or not to, where to begin
A great dilemma I'm finding myself in
For all I know you only see me as a friend
I try to tell myself, "Wake up, fool
This fairytale has got to end"
I leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, finding it strange that she still hadn't taken notice of me. You only see me as a friend? Nonsense, I definitely liked her more than that. For some reason, the lyrics seemed familiar— Oh yes, the song Y/N apparently liked to sing all the time! What was the name, uh…
Never in my life have I been more sure
So come on up to me and close the door
Nobody's made me feel this way before
You're everything I wanted…
When she (amazingly) sang those lines, I decided to make my move. I walked forward and put my arms around her from behind, laughing when she screamed. "Tom! Oh my God, when did you come home?!" I spun her around, trapping her between the kitchen counter and myself. "A few minutes ago. You sing wonderfully, love," I smirked. She visibly gulped. "Uh, what are you—"
"Don't play dumb now. Aren't you the one who writes those letters? Don't lie to me." Her eyes went wide. "How did you find out? I'm sorry, I—" I cut off her trail of words by leaning down, capturing her lips with mine in a magical kiss. She, thankfully, didn't push away, instead wrapping her arms around me.
"I didn't think you'd like me back," she mumbled when we pulled away to breathe. "All that matters is that we're together now." She chuckled and snuggled into my arms. With a content sigh, I pulled her close, running my fingers through her hair as I held her close. "I love you," I said simply, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you too, think that's quite obvious."
We laughed. "How did you find out, though? What gave it away?" She got out of my arms and turned back to her cooking. I leaned against the counter next to her, crossing my arms. "I just visited the address on the letter. The door was locked, then I met an old man who said the person who lived there moved to the USA 3 years ago."
"My best friend, Y/F/N."
"He told me your name, saying how you went there every Sunday to look after the house. How come I didn't know?"
"Oh, Bertram. I always lied about going out on Sundays. I guess we sort of owe our relationship to Bert, don't we?"
I laughed and kissed her on the temple. "For sure, we do. What is that song you sing all the time, you were singing it just now?" She snorted and took out her phone, opening Spotify. She put on the song and turned to me, holding her hand out. "Balisong by Rivermaya. Care for a dance?"
"Don't mind if I do."
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A/N: Oooh two fics in a row?? leave a like if you enjoyed lol thanks for reading!
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justcourttee · 4 years
Text
Call It What You Want-One Shot Song Prompt
So, I recently saw @marimacaron​ post this song prompt fic for daminette and I absolutely loved it and knew I had to try and write it! I hope it’s close to what you imagined :)
Marinette’s eyes fell to the glittering rock on her left hand, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she hit post on her computer. Within seconds, hundreds of comments and likes flooded her Instagram from fans and friends alike, most wishing her well for her engagement, a few earning a chuckle at their distress that she was now ‘off the market’.
She reached forward to shut her laptop when one comment in particular caught her eye.
@alyabloglyfe: Why are you still vying for attention? We all know @queenlyla is engaged to Damian Wayne, I mean, why would he be interested in a liar and bully like you?
Already, twenty fans were fighting the girl’s comment, dissing Alya and defending Marinette’s honor, but it didn’t seem to help the punch to the gut she was experiencing. Her fingers lingered over the keyboard, the room seeming to blur around her.
All of a sudden, she felt fifteen again, trapped in her bedroom only being able to scroll through the hate mail that flooded her inbox from all of her former friends. She thought that begging her parents to allow her to pull out of school and switch to an online platform would deter them from attacking her so often, but it only made things worse as they became more confident and vile in their bullying as they could hide behind a screen.
Every night, Marinette would cry herself to sleep wondering what she did so wrong to deserve all of this until one day she decided it would be enough. She deleted all of her social media, even taking down her MDC commissions page, asking her clients to meet her in person or via phone call to schedule fittings and commissions. And it worked, at least for a little while, until they started to vandalize her parent’s bakery, breaking windows and spray painting signs, the cops never seeming to catch them.
Her fingers tapped out the first sentence of her response, her eyes absentmindedly glazed over as she wrote a paragraph, then two, all directed to Alya. She was about to hit send when she felt a pair of arms snake around her shoulders, warm breath tickling the back of her ears.
“How’d your fans take the news?” his deep voice felt like a lifeline as she slammed her laptop shut, blinking away the empty feeling Alya had brought.
He let out a low whistle as he unwinded himself, allowing her to stand up from the desk and fall into his outstretched arms.
“That good, huh?”
She forced out a dry laugh as she buried her face into his chest.
“Just a few people upset that I’m officially a taken woman.”
It was his turn to laugh as she pulled back, taking in the sight of his carefree face. It was always so beautiful, so much peace that he held, all reserved for her.
“Do you have any plans tonight? You know Richard will want to host an exaggerant engagement feast.” He rolled his eyes, but his smile gave him away. She knew he secretly loved being the center of attention, especially when it came to his family.
“I’ll make sure to have everything done by 5 today, promise.”
Ducking under his arms, she slung her purse over her head, making a beeline for the door.
“Do you need Alfred to escort you?” he called after her retreating figure but it was too late, she was gone.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Exiting the fabric store, Marinette made her way down Gotham’s winding streets, her head in another place as she tried to recall anything she could’ve missed.
“This is why you should’ve brought your list with you Marinette!” Tikki popped their head out of her purse, their arms crossed in a scolding manner.
“I would have Tikki, but you know how overprotective he is. He would’ve insisted I waited for Alfred to come down to the apartment to drive me and no offense to Alfred, but sometimes a girl just wants to be alone.”
Her pace slowed as a familiar landscape came into her sight.
“Oh wow Tikki, I haven’t been here in almost three years.” her voice trailed off as she scanned over the construction crew working on the new gymnasium.
“Gotham Academy! This is where you transferred to right?”
She didn’t answer the small God as she took a step forward, placing a hand on the elegant banisters leading up the school stairs. The fresh scent of cleaning supplies filled her nostrils as she closed her eyes, her mind falling back to the comment from earlier.
She was only sixteen when her parents allowed her to transfer. It was in both of their best interests as they couldn’t afford to keep repairing the bakery her former friends destroyed. She was a mere shell of a person when she entered those doors for the first time. She had already decided that she wasn’t going to make any friends this time around, after all, no friends meant no one to stab her in the back, as they all do eventually.
But then something strange happened. The student who was assigned to show her around for the first week was just as cold and calculated. His thorns were just as sharp as hers, neither opening up much to the other. She had planned for warm and inviting, the fake friends trying to pry her open, but she hadn’t planned for someone to hold her attention, someone as cold as her.
One week turned into two, and then a month passed and she dared to consider him her friend.
“Marinette? Marinette? Are you still in there?”
She slowly opened her eyes to a concerned kwami, Tikki’s small hands shaking her nose to the best of their ability.
“I’m fine Tikki, just a bit of reminiscing I suppose.”
Continuing again, Marinette soon found herself in front of her studio. The little bell rang through the place as ten heads popped up, all wearing bright smiles. Unique almost tackled her in a hug before the door had even closed.
“Marinette! We were so excited when you posted this morning! It was sooo hard keeping your relationship a secret when customers asked!”
Hannah and Brooke nodded in agreement as the girls all left their work stations to admire her ring.
“Can we help you design your wedding dress?” Hannah clasped her hands together, earning a chorus of please’s throughout the room.
Marinette chuckled as she brought the women into a big group hug.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, enough small talk, let’s get down to business, anything new?”
It was as if someone switched a flip in the room, the girls jumping from excited to serious as they all handed in folders, giving her a brief of each new commission. It was going to be a long day of work, certainly. . . . . .  . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her keys jiggled in the apartment lock as she practically fell in, all of her energy drained.
“Damian? Do we have any coffee?”
She didn’t hear an answer as she reached for the cupboard, bringing down her favorite mug. Damian had given it to her a month into them dating. Her fingers absentmindedly reached to her neck where a small D sat on an elegant gold chain.
“I don’t understand Mari-san. You wearing his initial is a statement that he owns you. How is that romantic?”
She adjusted her phone to give Kagami a better look at the necklace, smiling softly as she held the D between two fingers.
“Because Kagami it’s not like that, I don’t wear it cause he ‘owns me’. I wear it because for the first time in a while, I really feel like someone really knows me, ya feel?”
“I do not ‘feel’ but if you are happy, then it is an acceptable gift, as is the coffee mug with the picture of you two.”
The whistle from the coffee machine drew her attention back to the present as Tikki flashed her a smile from where they sat on the Keurig.
“Thank you Tikki. I’m going to need this,” she held up her steaming mug, a tired smile flashing gratefully at the God.
Downing the cup, she placed it in the sink before pulling out her phone seeing three missed texts from Damian stating he would be home soon.
“Well Tikki, at least I’m not the one running late for once.” The two shared a small laugh before they headed towards her bedroom to get dressed for the night. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Damian squeezed her hand tightly as they made their way through Wayne Manner’s garden.
“There could be a small thousand here tonight, are you ready for that Mrs Wayne?”
His smile was blinding as her heart beat rapidly at the sound of him calling her by his last name.
“I most certainly am Mr. Wayne.”
As they rounded the corner to the back of the gardens, Marinette couldn’t help but laugh at the number of people Dick had invited. Loud cheers erupted from every inch of the yard causing her entire face to flash red.
“I might’ve underestimated, I’d say at least three thousand.”
He squeezed her hand once more before he was pulled off into the crowd. She smiled at the genuine fear crossing his face as people began berating him about children so soon.
“Well, well, well, a beautiful woman in distress. Please allow me to be your stand in to ward off the power hungry tonight.”
Jason slung his arm over her shoulders earning a laugh from the smaller girl.
“I am eternally grateful for your services Monsieur Todd.”
They chatted lightly as he led her back to where her future family all stood, all practically vibrating from excitement, even Bruce.
“Mari! I’m so excited! I really thought he was going to force me to hold this a secret for forever.”
Dick pulled her into a bone crushing hug, only pulling back when Barbara and Stephanie forced him to. They each took their turns expressing their excitement for the wedding, Tim even going as far as to say he never thought it would happen.
“What? We were all thinking it! Demon spawn? Happy and smiling all the time? It’s scary!” he shuddered sending another round of laughter throughout the group.
Marinette brought up her phone, snapping a picture, posting it immediately to her Insta.
@mdcdesigns: So excited to officially be a part of this family. (not that I haven’t considered them family for years now :))
She was about to slide her phone back into her purse when something caught her attention. Almost instantly, a private message from Alya sat in her inbox. She wanted to ignore it, but the curiosity was eating her up.
@alyabloglyfe: Soo what?You don’t post for months and all of a sudden you show up with a double post about a supposed engagement to Damian Wayne?
What is this?
A publicity stunt?
A desperate cry to try and hurt Lyla even after all these years?
I demand an answer ‘bestie’
Her heart beat clenched at the last message as she felt the tears trying to pool in her eyes. So many years had passed and Alya still believed her to be the liar and failure that Lila painted her out to be.
She wanted to respond to the messages, but she wasn’t even sure what to say. Her fingers lingered over her keyboard as she looked up, trying to collect her thoughts. Then she saw him. His calm smile, his shining green eyes, the love radiating from him all directed to her. His eyes met hers as he excused himself from the person he was talking to.
“Are you alright habibti?”
His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into his side. It was as if everything faded away, the only thing she could see was him. Standing on her tiptoes, she gently placed a kiss on his cheek.
“I’m doing better than I ever was.”
He smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer as she unlocked her phone once more, her fingers moving quickly across the keyboard.
@mdcdesigns: Alya, I don’t need this from you or Lila anymore. I have a world famous business, 1.3 million followers and fans, a loving new family and a fiance who loves me like I’m brand new despite the damage you put me through.
You don’t really want to know what I call this, because you’ll only distort it to fit your fantasy that Lila painted for you so you know what?
Call it what you want :)
She moved to the top of the screen, blocking her old friend without a second thought. After all, she had her new life and it had no room for the past to ruin that. Raising her glass, she leaned forward to clink it with the rest, a new sense of relief flowing through her.
“To Damian, for finally proposing before I had to.”
They all cheered to his mock protests as they brought their flutes to their lips, celebrating the next chapter in their lives, not a single worry filling the space, only love.
Permanent Tag List:
@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07
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