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#the second half of the month will be rough and i don't expect to have much me-time
flame-shadow · 6 months
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today has been a good day. started earlier than usual and didn't follow the typical routine, but for once, that wasn't a bad thing. I got some sculpting done, I streamed a game with some cool folks, I handled some obligations. I have a few more things to do today, and there are a few things that I wrote down which won't get done, but that's okay. it's been a good day
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alvojake · 10 days
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i need tattoo artist jungwon and reader is his client, also his ex-girlfriend
「notes」 : thank you, anon, for blessing my inbox with this beautiful request because it left me thinking of tatted jungwon for days 😵‍💫
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Inked Hearts | Y.JW
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「paring」 : tattoartist!exbf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k
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「synopsis」 : it has been a few months since you and jungwon had a huge fight resulting in you breaking up; though things ended poorly, you still craved his touch. then you realize that you still have a tattoo appointment with him, dreading it. you just decide to push his buttons, not fully expecting it to end with you bending over the bed.
「genre」 : smut
「warning」 : cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, petnames (babydoll, baby...), the reader is a brat, clit play, teasing, rough sex, both the reader and jungwon are kinda toxic, public(ish) sex, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!
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It had been almost a month and a half since you and Jungwon had broken up over a petty little argument that some jealous girl in the club started. All because she couldn’t get Jungwon to budge when hitting on him. So what does she do? She spills her drink all over your outfit, then gets one of her guy friends to ‘help’ clean it up. All while making sure Jungwon was watching the whole time, this guy not so discreetly put his hands all over your chest.
The whole thing resulted in Jungwon yanking you away from Mr. Handsey and blowing up right outside of the club. He didn’t give you even a chance to explain what had happened, which only pissed you off. So you ended up yelling right back at him, embarrassed and hurt that he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to explain then goes and starts shouting hurtful things right outside where prying ears could easily hear.
It was safe to say that you never returned to your shared apartment that night, or any night, really. You only showed up when he wasn’t home to gather the things you’d need to crash at a friend's house until further notice.
Everyone told you that it would all blow over, and you would be able to talk it out with him. However, you knew he was too stubborn and your pride too large for either of you to step up and apologize first. This brings you to your current situation, staying with friends and working part-time at the very club that started this whole mess.
You didn’t really want to be working in the same place that ended your four-year-long relationship, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. It helped pay bills and kept you from going hungry. Though you can’t say, you valued your job enough to not jump over the counter every time you saw the little wench that ruined everything. The only thing holding you back was sitting behind bars until someone could come and bail you out. If they did.
Jungwon was still a sore spot for you, especially when you would drive by his tattoo shop. The very shop where he gave you your very first tattoo. The same shop that you were sure he had you bent over or on top of about every surface he could. Fucking you so good you saw stars and leaving your legs shaking. It brought back memories you wished you could relive, but then you remembered everything, and you’d be damned if you were going to be the first to apologize. 
But you never received a call nor a text of any kind from him, sure that he had blocked you. Thus leading you to believe that everything was actually over and you’d never see him again.
Or so you thought…
“Son of a fucking bitch!” You exclaimed, nearly flinging yourself off of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand.
“Y/n language!” your current roommate, Karina, shouted from down the hall. Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and stood on your feet. Not even two seconds later, Karina was peeking into your room, fixing her septum. “What happened, though? Anything juicy?”
You couldn’t help but give her a deadpan stare, you loved her, but her incessant need for any gossip was one thing that damn near drove you up a wall.
However, you just let it slide this time because you needed someone to rant to. “I fucking forgot that I had a tattoo appointment with Jungwon today.” You groaned, flinging yourself backward onto your bed while Karina stifled a laugh.
“Damn, babe, looks like the world is really against you.” She smirked at you, her eyes scanning your face catching the conflicted emotions that swirled in your eyes. 
Karina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing you like this; it was a taste of your own medicine, really. You were one of her closest friends, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that you sucked at communication and then blamed it on the other person. Was she rooting for you and Jungwon to get back together? Definitely. Was she also rooting for the possibility that Jungwon or someone would do something about the attitude you’ve had? Fuck yes. 
“Are you still going to go?” Karina asked as she looked down at her nails, making a mental note to repolish them when she had the chance.
With a sigh, you brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows. “I’m gonna have to. Jungwon is the only one that I know that can ace this design.” Groaning you slapped the palm of your hand against your forehead, “fuck it, I’m going, worst comes to worst I’ll just let Jay do it.”
Karina hummed, looking up at you through her lashes, watching as you hastily searched your wardrobe for a suitable outfit. She had to bite back a smirk when you pulled out a black lace bra and matching underwear. As much as you say you’re dreading running into your ex, your actions tell a whole other story.
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You made it to the tattoo studio well before your appointment was meant to start; you’d rather be super early than late. 
Walking inside, you were greeted by the receptionist you’ve known since Jungwon hired her a year or so ago. Her lips were covered in a huge smile, showcasing her smiley piercing.
“Y/n, oh my god, it’s been forever! How have you been?” Belle greeted you as she stood from her seat, rushing over to engulf you in a hug.
“Hey Belle, I’ve been okay.” You patted her back softly before she moved away, her eyes shining brightly, “is Jungwon here?”
Belle’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused about your usage of Jungwon’s full name. She hadn’t been aware of the breakup, thinking that you had your own personal matters to attend to, which is why she hadn’t seen you.
“He went out to grab a few things, should be back soon.” The new voice caused your head to turn, catching sight of the tall, dark-haired male standing in the doorway, the light reflecting off of his eyebrow and lip rings. “How have you been holding up pipsqueak?” 
“Oh, you know, another day in paradise.” You shrugged, and Jay chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from your words, “And what have I said about that damn nickname?”
“And I’ve told you countless times to get used to it; it’s not goin’ anywhere.” He shrugged with a smirk, causing you to glare at him. “I’m surprised Won didn’t cancel the whole appointment; he’s been huffing and puffing about it all week.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “of course he has.” 
Jay laughed at the sour expression that had taken over your features, knowing that you weren’t much different from Jungwon with the whole ‘being the bigger person’ bit. Even if the two of you were locked in a room, he doubted you’d apologize to each other—at least not verbally.
Which is why Jay took it upon himself to clear out the studio as soon as you were back in Jungwon’s room. Giving you two the chance to ‘talk’ it out and saving everyone in the studio from the trauma of hearing it all happen. However, he needed something that he knew you’d use that would essentially set Jungwon off.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m free if you’d rather me do your tattoo,” he suggested, and he could see the hope gleam in your eyes. Too bad it was just a front. There was no way in hell that Jungwon would let anyone else do your tattoo, especially another guy, not with where it was placed.
“If he gives me too much hell, I might just take you up on that offer.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly pushing your breast up.
The sound of the bell above the door caused him to avert his gaze, already knowing who had just walked in.
Jungwon walks in, and his eyes instantly fall on you before flickering over to Jay, who had been in mid-conversation with you. His face sours at the sight of you just standing there, more so when he notices the thin shirt you are wearing, as well as the skirt that sits just barely below your ass. Noticing his presence, you look over before rolling your eyes at the glare that harbored his face, already growing annoyed with his face.
You turn away, opening your mouth to talk to Jay once more. However, you are cut short when Jungwon walks in front of you, setting things down on the reception desk.
“Is your memory that bad that you forgot where my room was, or were you just waiting for an escort?” His tone was snarky as his eyes flickered over to you, eyebrow quirked up. He couldn’t help but smirk at the annoyed expression that painted your face beautifully. If there was one thing he loved almost just as much as fucking you, it was getting under your skin, riling you up.
“I do not ne-” “Hey Belle, put these in the back for me, will ya?” Jungwon just cut you off leaving you standing there looking at him with a flabbergasted look, jaw clenched tightly. 
Jay stood off to the side, watching with an amused gleam in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure, then he’s definitely sure now. It wasn’t just any normal tension between the two of you. No, it was just straight sexual tension. He then looked over at Heeseung, who had just looked up from his phone, motioning towards the door. The purple-haired male nodded before motioning to the others discreetly.
“Come on, Dory, let me show you the way since you obviously don’t remember.” Jungwon’s words struck a cord, and it took everything in you not to blow up. Your dark eyes watched Jungwon’s back as he walked into the main room, taking a deep breath deciding that he wasn’t worth the humiliation. So you waved softly at Jay before following after your ex-boyfriend.
Walking into Jungwon’s room, you could easily tell that he was annoyed, especially when he shut the door with such force that it shook the walls a bit. Rolling your eyes once more, you walked over to the counter, leaning back on it.
“You know, if you’re so pissed about doing my tattoo, I’m sure Jay would love to do it for me.” You bit back a smirk as his jaw tightened, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. A sense of pride filled your chest, knowing that you were slowly getting under his skin.
“Shut up and take your shirt off.” He hissed through gritted teeth, turning his body to face you. His eyes bore into you, making a chill go down your spine. The same stare that he would give you moments before he pinned you to the next surface and ‘taught’ you a lesson. Normally you would have thought that it would disgust you after everything, but no. It left your body burning, sure that your panties were already getting soaked.
However, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning. No, he was going to have to make you.
“You know that’s not how you would talk to a client, plus the least you could do is turn around.” You sassed him, crossing your arms over your chest once more, a smirk spreading across your glossed lips.
It took Jungwon two seconds flat to move in front of you, hands against the counter, caging your body in. His warm breath fanned your face as he inched closer. Your heart lept in your chest at the sudden proximity, and your stomach did flips as his scent filled your senses.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less. Take it off before I tear it off.” He growled, the sound sending a wave of heat right to your core.
Keeping your composure, you stood straight, brushing your nose right against his, finger poking his chest. “Last time I checked, you said you didn’t want to see my tainted goods.”
In the blink of an eye, Jungwon had his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper from you.
“The only thing ‘tainted’ about you is that damn attitude.” His voice was low as he pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Jungwon wasn’t stupid; he knew you were doing this to get a rise out of him. A smirk then spread across his lips, sending a shiver throughout your body, “how about you listen and lose it, or…” he closed the gap between your bodies. Your heart lurched when you felt his bulge against your stomach. “Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you like old times?” The sinister gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you what the answer was.
“Won…” You breathed out, voice hoarse from his hold. Your body was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed.
Jungwon chuckled, “Oh, so it’s Won now? Not Jungwon or asshole?” His fingers tightened a bit more, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. Then his smirk faded, and his eyes darkened, “On the bed, give me any more attitude, and you won’t be cumming, babydoll.” His grip then fell from your throat, allowing you to breathe properly.
You bit your tongue to suppress the smirk on your lips as you walked over to the bed, climbing on top. Laying back on your elbows, your legs parted just enough to give him a peek at your black underwear. 
“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I mean, it has been a while.” Your lips quirked up as you stretched your foot out, brushing over his growing erection. Amusement gleamed in your eyes as his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening even more.
Jungwon grabbed your ankle, pulling it to his side before slotting himself between your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hip, pulling your body flush against his. Your body shivered at his touch, goosebumps littering your skin, and the arousal pooling in your panties grew even more.
“Missed my touch that much, huh?” That cocky smirk found its way back onto his lips, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, staring up at him, but Jungwon wasn’t stupid. He knew your body like the back of his hand—every little thing that made you tick, all the places that would have you like putty in his hands. He knew that you were craving him just by the look in your eyes when you walked in.
“Really?” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, eyes boring into yours. “Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His fingers found your clothed core, pressing down, feeling your slick soak through. Your jaw clenched shut trying to keep from letting any noises out, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“How do you know it’s for you? I mean, Jay does loo-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungwon had his ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat. Squeezing hard enough to elicit a squeak from your lips, eyes staring up at him with a glare.
“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He growled, his eyes challenging you and normally you would have just kept your mouth shut, but right now? You wanted to push his buttons until he snapped, that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t have to obey him.
He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, after all.
Your lips curled into a smirk, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips for a split second. “I was saying that Jay looks more than capable to fuck me stupid.”
Then, just like that switch flipped in Jungwon’s brain, his eyes darkened with a rage you’ve never seen before. His hand around your neck released its grip before he leaned back far enough to strip himself of his jacket, revealing his inked skin. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hands itching to touch him. However, before your hands made contact with his skin, he had your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head.
Jungwon’s dick twitched in his pants as he took in how small your hands were in comparison to his. Really just how much smaller you were compared to him altogether. He loved it, loved how easy it was for him to trap you in place. Loved how easy he could maneuver your body to whatever position he wanted. He then realized just how much he missed having you pinned underneath him.
“Babydoll, we both know that no one can fuck you stupid like I can.” He chastised you before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your jaw. Your body squirmed under his, the heat making you feel lightheaded. The need for some kind of friction was almost overbearing.
Jungwon relished in the way your hips were moving against his, listening to the soft sounds that left your lips. His free hand then moved from your hip, finding your clothed clit, and pressing down harshly.
“Fuck!” You cried out, your nerves shooting shockwaves throughout your entire body. His hands were rough on your body, sending your mind reeling. “Won, wait- shit, please be gentle.” You whined out as his pace picked up, making your body jolt. Tears are already pricking at the corner of your eyes.
Jungwon chuckled darkly before he bit down on the junction of your neck, “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address.” he growled before moving your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your tight hole with ease.
Your mouth fell agape as soundless moans fell from your lips, and your body shivered. It had been far too long since you’ve experienced anything like this, and it was turning your brain to mush.
“Look at you, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already about to cum.” He berated you as he slipped another finger into your soaping cunt.
“Jungwon!” You cried out, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and the knot in your stomach tightened unimaginably as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.
Your eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of his hips as his fingers coaxed your climax closer. Jungwon smirked against your skin, knowing you were close to the way you were squeezing his fingers like a vice. Your moans of his name were music to his ears, though what he wanted was for your ability to make coherent sentences completely useless.
Just as your high was about to crash over you, Jungwon pulled his soaked fingers from your pulsating pussy, making a loud whine fall from your parted lips.
“Fuck! You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” You cried out, meeting his eyes as he pulled away from your neck.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?” He smirked, keeping his eyes on yours as he stuck his drenched digits in his mouth. You whined, wiggling under his grip as frustration bubbled up in your chest. “Be a good girl and beg, then I might let you cum.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, eyes glaring up at him. “In your dreams, pretty boy.” You spit out, jaw clenched tightly. Eyes watched as he just shook his head, a sinister smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be begging for me by the time I’m through with you.” His fingers then slipped back into your slick cunt, his pace relentless. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep your noise down while he worked his slender fingers into you.
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The pattern continued for what felt like hours. Jungwon would work you close to your climax before ripping it away. Tears were spilling from your eyes, smearing your makeup from the frustration of not being able to cum.
You had lost count of how many times he’d denied you, but you knew that you could only handle so much more. The underwear you had been wearing had been tossed off in the room somewhere, leaving your arousal to pool on the bed beneath you.
The skin of your neck and chest had been painted in deep red and purple blotches as well as bite marks. Your pupils were blown wide as you stared up at him. Your walls clenched around his fingers once again as another orgasm built up in your gut.
“Won-” You were cut off by a choked moan as he denied you yet another orgasm; sobs racked your lungs as you wiggled under his hold. 
“Awww, is my poor baby getting frustrated?” He smirked, eyes studying your expressions as he slid his fingers back into your puffy cunt. His pace was quick, making sure he added extra pressure to your sweet spot, knowing that you would fold sooner rather than later.
As another orgasm built up, your eyes rolled back, and your will was slowly diminishing. Your chest was tight as you anticipated him to stop once again.
And he did.
You cried out, pleading with him with your eyes, but he wanted to hear you. You knew that you were going to have to swallow your pride if you were going to get what you wanted.
A gasp fell from your lips as he pressed against your clit, moving in tight circles. Your head fell back as you tried to form a coherent sentence.
“Won- fuck, please don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You panted, eyes meeting his darker ones.
He leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing to your ear as he sunk his fingers back into you. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”
Pleas and whines fell from your lips as he continued to work into your core, tears blurring your vision. Hoping that he wouldn’t stop this time, that he would actually give you what you wanted.
But just like before he pulled away just as it was about to crash over you.
Before you could even whine about it, he let go of your hands, pulling your body off of the bed, flipping you over before bending you over. A choked moan fell from your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass before rubbing the red spot.
“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you cum babydoll.” He smirked, hands tracing up your thighs and under the skirt you were still wearing. His thumb pressed against your slit, watching as you clenched around it.
“Wonnie, please fuck me already.” You whined head turned to look back at him. Eyes glazed over with lust, the only thing on your mind was having him fucking you so good that you saw stars.
He unzipped his pants before tugging them down, letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight, hips subconsciously wiggling in anticipation. He chuckled darkly before pumping himself a few times, then grabbing your hip in his other hand. He teased your entrance with his tip until you were a whining, begging mess.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then you better start taking it.” Without another word, he bottomed out in one go, causing a pitiful squeak to leave your lips.
“W-Won-” Your words caught in your throat as he started thrusting into you at a bruising pace, not giving you a chance to adjust. His hand gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises by the next day.
Another choke moan spilled from your lips as one of his hands snaked around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He circled the bundle of nerves harshly in time with his thrust causing your body to jolt and a cry to fall from your lips.
You buried your face into the hard cushions of the bed, hoping to muffle some of your noises, suddenly becoming acutely aware of where you were. You prayed that no one could hear anything that was going on right now. However, Jungwon didn’t care who heard. Actually, he did care because he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, especially Jay. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to plow into you. Your moans grow louder as the position changes.
“Feels good, huh, babydoll?” He chuckled as his hand snaked around your hips, pressing down on the small bulge in your lower stomach. A choked cry fell from your lips as he pressed down, making you feel him even more, “You really wanna tell me that Jay can fuck you just as good as I can? Hmm?” 
You shook your head frantically, knowing that no one would be able to get you like this but him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungwon!” You screamed out the worry of other people hearing completely gone from your mind.
He continued to pound into your abused pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. The pressure of his hand on your stomach was making your mind fuzz as moans and whines of his name fell from your lips.
“Gonna cum already baby?” He growled in your ear as he snapped his hips into yours, hitting spots that only he had claimed for himself. His grip tightened on your waist as he angled his hip a bit more.
“Holy shit!” You cursed loudly, your eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot dead on. Your mouth fell open as your head lolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.
A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when he brought his hand from your stomach to your clit, rubbing harshly. All of the pleasure and your impending orgasm were causing your legs to start shaking and your mind to go blank.
“That’s it, babydoll, give it to me. Make a mess on my cock” Jungwon knew you were close, switching his position once more until you were crying over his dick, moments away from your orgasm. He pressed wet and hot kisses along your exposed neck before biting down in time with his fingers on your clit.
Silent moans fell from your lips, and your vision turned white as your orgasm tore through your body. Jungwon groaned into your skin as you clenched down tightly on him, but his pace didn’t slow, easily throwing you into overstimulation.
“W-Won- fuck!” Your whole body was trembling as continuous waves of pleasure washed through your body.
“Fuck. I’m almost there; just hold on.” His harsh and gruff tone had switched to soft and borderline whines, causing your mind to almost combust.
His once harsh pace was starting to become sloppy, erratic, and uneven, a telltale sign that he was close. His hips still snapped into yours harshly, which was bringing you closer to another orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine out, nails digging into Jungwon’s forearms, trying to ground yourself as another climax washes over you, nearly taking your breath away. Tears were spilling from the corner of your eyes, falling down and drenching Jungwon’s shirt under your head.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. You’re gonna take all of it, babydoll, got it?” He growled in your ear but didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pumping his load into your womb.
His hips jerk a few more times, fucking his cum back into you before falling to a complete stop.
Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stood there, trying to catch your breath. Jungwon pressed soft kisses over the swollen spots on your skin where he had bit down. Coaxing you back down from your high, fingers drawing shapes on your hips.
“Won…” You breathed out, blinking your eyes a few times to clear the tears before glancing up at him.
“There she is.” He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The feeling made your heart flutter—you had missed this, you had missed him. 
Then everything came flooding back, the hurt following. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself away from him before searching for your underwear with shaky legs.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Jungwon asked, fixing himself before making his way towards you.
“This shouldn’t have happened, we’re not together anymore.” You told him, your eyes looking everywhere but him.
Jungwon could hear the hurt in your tone, and he knew you were right about the not being together part, at least. However, he wasn’t about to let you walk away from him again no matter how upset he was then, he knew now.
“Baby…” His hands found your waist, pulling you into his chest, causing your heart to lurch. 
“Jungwon, let me-” “No, please listen to me. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead.” He breathed out, arms wrapping around your smaller frame, “I should have let you explain but instead I just let her words cloud my mind and I know that’s not any excuse, but I’m sorry I truly am.” His words sunk into your skin, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more. “Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance, please baby.”
You inhaled shakily before turning your head to look back at him, “Fine, but only if we go to that one restaurant I like.”
Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before peppering kisses all over your face, “Whatever you want, baby.”
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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lazyleafeon · 2 months
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[ID copied from Alt text: the first photo has the text, "sketch commissions for Gaza." Next to it is a drawing of the artist drawing on their art tablet.
second photo: 4 examples of commission prices and art, modeled by Kim Dokja from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint in his demon king form. For one dollar: a rough chibi sketch. for 5 to ten dollars: a rough but more detailed sketch. there is more motion in his pose. for 10 to 15 dollars: a cleaner lined sketch with more detail given to the silhouette. for more than 15 dollars: a cleaner sketch with more attention to volume and detail in his outfit and wings. End ID]
For now up until March 10th I'm taking pay what you want sketch commissions for donations to Help Gaza Children, managed by @fairuzfan and Hussam, since from March 4th to the 10th all donations will go to families in Northern Gaza.
Their site is here where you can find more information, like their FAQ, and proof of purchases from donations they've received so far.
You can donate to Help Gaza Children's paypal here. The paypal link is also on their site.
guidelines:
To be upfront, I am a full time college student so expect a two month turnaround. I will give you an update around a month in and again at two months if I don't finish by then.
Please include a visual reference or detailed text description of the character(s) you want drawn, unless I've drawn them before and you're okay with me going with my design.
I can draw OCs, mechs, and furries.
I won't draw real people or anything nsfw.
I reserve the right to refuse a commission and may ask you to choose something else. If you want to know in advance if I'll take it, feel free to DM or send an ask.
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hi lovely :) i have a request for you!!
i’m thinking spencer reid x reader (and platonic!bau team if you don’t mind!!) where reader is having a bit of a rough time with mental health, but is 1 year clean and they have a lil celebration? thank you!!
-🍓 (this is my application for being an emoji anon lmao)
hi, thank you! ♡ fem 1k
cw implied drug use
You're expecting your boyfriend's voice when a hand touches your shoulder, but it's actually Hotch that speaks. "Good morning. Are you feeling alright?" 
You meet his furrowed brow with a softer expression. "Morning, Hotch. I'm good, I'm," —you stretch your arms out in front of you in a lie— "just really tired." 
"Take it easy today, okay?" You nod quickly. "Okay. And Y/N? Well done." 
You enjoy the shoulder squeeze he gives you and hide your abject puzzlement as he heads up the steps to his office, briefcase in hand. It's always nice to be doted on, but what's today? 
"Hello," a new voice says, a hand again on your shoulder, ducking down to kiss you behind the ear. Here's your expected boyfriend, Spencer's voice low and spectacularly sweet, "Good morning. You're here early, I haven't even made you coffee." 
"That's okay, I can make it." 
His arms cross over your chest. He touches you so confidently, his lack of hesitance a great encouragement; it's hard to find room to feel insecure about things when Spencer seems to see no faults in you. Hard, but not impossible. 
As though he can sense your rough morning (rough week, rough month), he holds you that second longer than usual, lips like angora silk where they touch to your cheek. "I'll make it, thanks. It's the least you deserve today." 
"Right," you say. He strokes your shoulder with his thumb in farewell, leaving you wondering. Today isn't your birthday, you'd probably know if it were. 
"Hey, good morning!" Emily says as she arrives, thrusting her bag and her travel mug onto her desk before she descends on you. 
It's her hug that breaks the camel's back, so to speak. You give her hands an absent minded hold but pull back in her embrace. "Emily," you say, frowning at her, "what's so special about today?" 
She blinks like she's worried to tell you, but she gets it together and hugs you again. "You're one year clean today. Everybody's so proud of you," she says quietly. 
You almost bite the tip of your tongue off. "How do you know that?" you ask. The thing about staying clean is that it haunts you until it doesn't. Some people can't ever beat it, and some people can. It's been a huge struggle for you, but eventually relapsing stopped feeling like an option, especially while you've been with Spencer. You can't do anything to jeopardise your safety while you're with him, you just can't. (That doesn't mean you haven't desperately wanted to.)
"Well, I knew it would've been around now, but Spencer sent us a memo. Nothing too detailed, you know, but we all…" She smiles at you wryly. "We care about you so much, and we didn't get it right with Spencer." 
No, they didn't. Spencer didn't get half the support he deserved, so he's making sure you do. 
There's something of a mental block in you that doesn't allow you to cry, but this shakes you roughly. Emily gives you a sorry smile and a last quick hug, apologising that she has to go and speak to Hotch before the work day officially begins. You lean back in your chair and click dazedly on an email from Penelope detailing how deeply loved you are and wondering if you'd like to go shopping. I know today might be really hard, so if you need me you know where I am. Love Pen. 
"You okay?" Spencer asks, placing your coffee in front of you on the desk. 
"Come and sit with me for a bit." 
You don't sound like you're asking, but you are. Spencer hears the need in your demand and immediately grabs his chair to sit next to you. You're surprised he didn't squat. 
You turn your face, lay your cheek on the short back of the chair uncomfortably, and take him in. He looks great these days, the memory of a young man firmly buried beneath a well-fitting suit, a cropping of facial hair, and the subtle, lean lines of muscle especially evident as he sits back to copy you, curls falling into his eyes. "You told everyone about my anniversary." 
"Your accomplishment," he corrects quietly. "I did." 
"I do want them to know, just… I feel a bit raw." You hardly remembered yourself, though you knew it was soon. 
Spencer takes your hand, pulling the joined pair between his knees. "It's something to be extremely proud of. And there's nothing wrong with celebrating it." 
"It's embarrassing–" 
"It isn't." He sits up as someone comes closer and you follow suit. This is a complicated conversation and your simple intimacies are necessary but inappropriate in the workplace. "I'm sure there are a ton of people who find sobriety embarrassing, but those are all people who don't know what it feels like to have to do it. We," —his voice softens— "do. I know exactly how it feels, and I know exactly how you've been feeling lately, so I'm proud of you and everyone else should be too." 
"How I've been feeling lately?" you ask. 
"Come on." Spencer stands and takes your face into his hands. One is warmer than the other, and he uses it to stroke the baby hair's at your ear very gently. "You do a really good job at hiding how you feel, but you can't hide from me." 
"I'm not trying to." 
"Good," he says, leaning down to kiss you. A soft, brisk connection. "I love you." 
"Not as much as I do, loverboy!" Morgan says as he arrives, giving Spencer a little nudge as he needles his arms behind your back and kisses your cheek. 
"You're squeezing me." 
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" Morgan asks, squeezing your harder. 
"Morgan, she knows you know." 
"Know what?" 
"You didn't see the memo?" Spencer asks. 
"What memo?" Morgan grins at you with pearly white teeth and scrubs at your shoulders until you're squirming at the pressure. It's nice. "Looking good, gorgeous." 
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roosterforme · 1 year
Text
You Want Me Anyway | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley wasn't your boyfriend. He didn't owe you anything. But after months of hooking up, you expected more from him than what you were getting. It was time for you to move on. But Bradley has other ideas.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing
Length: 1500 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written for Sensational Smutfest! Check out my masterlist for more!
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You and Bradley were by no means official. But you had been hoping you were at least exclusive. For months you had been trying to have the conversation with him, trying to define the relationship, but he just brushed you off. 
And now you knew why. Because tonight at the bar while you were surrounded by your friends, you were forced to watch Bradley flirt with some girl in a mini skirt who boldly bought him a beer and had her hand planted on his chest. He was eating it up, leaving you to silently stew in your anger, because nobody even knew he spent most nights tangled up in bed with you. This girl was laughing hysterically at everything he was saying, and you'd simply had enough. 
It was time you forgot about Rooster Bradshaw. You didn't need to keep letting him string you along with his vague answers and half truths. There was no way you'd let him think you needed his attention exclusively if he was going to spread his around. 
Recently you found that Hangman was good for a few things: the occasional laugh, keeping you on your toes in the air, and tons of flirtation. 
"Hey, Hangman. Teach me how to play darts," you called out to him, and a second later he was guiding you toward the dartboard with his arm draped across your shoulders.
"I thought you'd never ask, Sweetness," he drawled, his lips close to your ear. "You're about to learn from the best."
You couldn't help but laugh at how cocky he was. "Is that so?"
"You thought I was only good in the air? I'm good everywhere. Here, stand like this," he told you, guiding you into place with his hands on your hips. Soon you were throwing darts with his help, nearly hitting the bullseye a few times. "You're a natural," he whispered, letting his hand glide up to rest on your shoulder. "You want a drink?"
"Please," you told him, and when he went to the bar, your eyes caught on Bradley. His cheeks were beet red, and he looked fuming mad.
"What the fuck is that?" he asked when he approached. His voice was low and harsh as he got in your personal space.
You shrugged. "Just hanging out with Jake."
Bradley scoffed. "Okay, well Jake can just keep his hands off you!"
"Why should he?" you asked, keeping your expression completely neutral. 
Bradley's eyes narrowed to slits. "Because you're with me."
You laughed in his face. "Really? I had no idea. You seem to like flirting with other girls more than talking about-" His mouth met yours in a rough kiss. Right in the middle of the Hard Deck. 
"No, you're with me," he growled again, gripping the back of your neck and kissing your lips and your jaw and your ear. "Say good night to Jake. I'm taking you home."
But you didn't say good night to anyone. You just tripped along next to Bradley as he guided you toward the exit. "What's gotten into you?" you asked him once you were outside. 
But he didn't answer you. In fact, he didn't say anything as he picked you up and carried you to his Bronco and drove to his house while you complained the whole way. "This is ridiculous. You can't just suddenly decide that you're in charge of what I do!" 
But you were just met with more silence.
"Bradley," you finally said, caving and talking first once you were in his bedroom. 
He took your chin between his thumb and index finger, tipping your face up to look at him. He kissed your lips softly, brushing his mustache across your skin. "You're mine. Don't flirt with Jake. Don't flirt with anyone. You're with me."
You moaned at his words. "And just what do you think you were doing tonight, Bradley? You don't get to have a different set of rules for yourself."
He kissed you again. "I won't. Not again. Now get in bed, and spread your legs wide."
You watched his brown eyes flash with something exciting as you peeled your clothes off and climbed in his bed. But you quickly learned that what he had in mind wasn't going to be as pleasant as you originally thought. 
At first, his mouth on your pussy felt amazing. His tongue felt possessive, like he was claiming you. But then when you were so close to the edge, he stopped cold and eased away from your body.
"What happened?" you gasped, panting as a sheen of sweat crept along your neck and chest.
"Say my name." His voice was harsh, and you clenched around nothing.
"B-Bradley."
"Louder."
"Bradley! Please, Bradley!"
Then his fingers were inside you and his lips were on your breasts, and you ran your hands up and down his neck. He was being possessive, and you loved it. This is what your body was craving from him. But just when you were close again, he released you. 
"Fuck!" you gasped.
"Say it."
You swallowed hard, head tipped back in frustration as tears filled your eyes. "I'm yours, Bradley!"
Then he was filling you with his dick, and you felt perfect for a few moments as he pinned your hips down and moved so slowly. You could feel everything, each tiny thrust and every twitch of his cock. But he was making sure you knew he was in control, because he never went faster. He worked you up until you were a panting, gasping mess beneath him. Every vein in his neck was on display, and you wanted to cum so badly. Your legs were shaking, back arching off the bed as he stroked your sweet spot with expertise. 
 But as he brought you to the edge again, he seemed to reluctantly pull out. Then he growled, "Don't even think about cumming yet," next to your ear, and you cried out in frustration as he rubbed his tip across your clit. You watched him straddle your thighs as he smirked down at you, and he grabbed his cock while you gasped for air.
You watched him jerk off as you bit your knuckle in frustration, thrusting yourself up against him to try to get some more friction against your clit. Within a minute, Bradley was coating your pussy, belly and chest with his cum. Marking you. Then he dipped his fingers in the mess and held it up to your lips. He fed you his cum while you whined and begged him. "Please?" you gasped, after cleaning his fingers for the fourth time and rubbing yourself against his balls.
He pressed his lips to your ear as he dipped his sticky fingers in your mouth one more time. "You think Jake can take care of you like I can? You think anyone else can?"
You shook your head and mumbled, "No," around his fingers. 
"That's right. Now who's about to make you cum?"
"Bradley!"
Finally he removed his fingers from your mouth and eased them through his cum and down to your pussy. He fucked you with his fingers and teased you with his tongue until you were hiccuping with relief as your orgasm quickly washed over you. 
"That's my good girl," he crooned, running his mustache through your wetness and pressing his nose to your clit while your body shook for him. "So good. Don't forget who you're with now." He kept stimulating you until you had some tears falling from your eyes, but his lips were so gentle now as he worshipped your pussy.
You started to sit up as you whispered his name, and Bradley's eyes were on yours. He kissed you, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips and mustache. He eased you back again, the mess of his drying cum rubbing between your bodies as you held him close.
"What made you change your mind all of a sudden?" you asked as his lips migrated to your jaw. 
"I didn't change my mind all of a sudden. I've wanted to be exclusive for weeks, and start calling you my girlfriend."
Your eyes drifted closed at the word girlfriend uttered in his raspy voice. "Then why were you flirting with that girl? And avoiding my conversations?" you asked, taking his face between your hands.
He looked at you with his big, brown eyes and smiled. "Because I know you're too good for me, but I want you anyway."
You bit your lip and smiled at the ceiling. "I'm way too good for you."
"But you want me anyway," he supplied, making you giggle as he kissed your ear. Then he scooped you up and headed for the bathroom while he asked you to start referring to him as your boyfriend. "I made a mess, and I'll clean it up."  
You weren't sure if he was talking about coating you in his cum or talking about your relationship, but either way, he was going to take care of it.
---------------------
Thanks for reading this blurb that turned into a one-shot.
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lollytea · 3 months
Text
Therapy
(Wrote this in five hours without stopping. Nothing fancy. Maybe sloppy and unpolished. Bon appetite???)
"Leave it alone, Darius," Hunter snarled, slamming down his chisel and wooden shape on the desk as he whirled around to face him.
"I'm doing a load anyway!" Retorted Darius, one hand gripping the laundry basket against the hip and the other holding a graphic tee with the solar system printed on it. "You know it bothers me to walk in here and see dirty clothes tossed all over the floor."
"I can do my own laundry!"
Hunter internally winced at his tone the second it burst out of him.
He sounded like the cranky, whiny child that he had once been, always gnashing nonvenomous teeth in an effort to be taken seriously.
Being treated as a child was one of his most explosive buttons. And the worst part was that if pushed, he always acted up in a way that proved them right.
He reeled himself in, filling his lungs to steady his wrung nerves before turning back to his work.
There was a pause.
"I know you are," said Darius, his voice softer than it had been a moment prior. "But considering you've been letting it pile up for the last few days, I figure I'd lend you a hand."
"I don't need a hand." Hunter took furious chunks out of his hunk of wood. "I'm gonna do it myself. I'm just....busy. Right now."
Hunter was "busy" a lot lately, leaving things such as laundry overlooked, as he focused on one obsession after another. Darius referred to his bouts of productivity as "manic episodes."
It was preferable to the other half of the time when he went borderline unresponsive. Those days weren't fun.
He heard a fwump, which was presumably the sound of Darius dropping the shirt back on the floor.
"Ocellena called," He said.
Hunter's rough attempts at whittling went still. "That's...the therapist's name, right?"
"Yes. Your first session is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. 3pm."
"Right. Okay." Hunter intoned. "Thanks."
When he offered nothing else, Darius pushed a bit.
"I know you're scared."
Hunter wanted to hotly declare that he wasn't. But he felt like the blood of a lie would seep through his words. He said nothing.
"But you haven't been doing well, Hunter."
He wanted to argue that he was actually doing awesome. But Darius was a lot better at arguing than he was, so he'd probably just end up looking stupid.
"And I promise that this is a step in the right direction."
"I said I was sorry," Hunter found himself uttering in a quiet, scratchy voice.
There he was again, that whiny difficult child inside of him. And in that moment, he had touched Hunter's throat, letting out one final plea to be forgiven.
He didn't know what he expected to happen.
Maybe deep down, he desperately wanted Darius to soften up and say to him, "Oh Hunter, what am I thinking? I shouldn't send you to therapy. You don't deserve that."
Darius said nothing of the sort.
Instead, he sighed. "You have nothing to apologize for,"
Hunter felt fingerpads gently drill against his temple. "How do I get that through your stubborn skull?"
His insides writhed with empty dread.
So, apologizing was worthless in this case. Noted.
Before Darius left the room, Hunter's hair was affectionately ruffled. He slid his eyes shut and savoured the feeling.
Every day for the last few months, Hunter was handled with such gentleness by the people around him. It had become so frequent that he had come close to taking it for granted.
He once caught himself wondering if maybe one day he'd forget how it felt to be treated.....the other way.
Well, it certainly wouldn't be anytime soon.
Hunter was, quite possibly, one of Bonesborough's most insufferable roommates. The number of times Darius and Eberwolf were awoken at untitanly hours by the sound of him suffocating on his own serrated screams was embarrassing.
The memories still seared raw and achey, nowhere close to scabbing over.
He couldn't forget.
And now, he was about to experience it all over again. But for morally correct reasons this time.
Hunter exhaled, irritated by the way it rattled. He leaned forward and hung his head in his hands.
There was a persistent gnaw of guilt in his abdomen that he was doing his damndest to ignore.
He did not want to go to therapy. But he knew he'd be a coward to admit that.
This was supposed to be a noble thing, right? Atonement. He was supposed to be owning up to his mistakes like an adult. But, being faced with the imminent appointment made him feel more like a spineless child than ever.
"Do you know what therapy is?" Darius had asked a few weeks ago when the topic had first been broached.
His tone made made Hunter bristle. He felt patronized. Nothing made him shrink in humiliation more than being confronted with the fact that he still didn't know a lot of things.
"Of course I do!" He snapped, not bothering to mention that he had only learned of the concept a few days prior when Steve brought it up in conversation.
"It's so chill, dude," He had explained. "It really made me reflect on all the bad stuff I did as a scout, y'know? And now I feel like I can finally move past all that business without the ol' baggage wearin' me down."
"But what is it?" Hunter prodded. "What happens in therapy?"
"Well it's...y'know,"
Hunter frowned, impatient. He did not know.
"It's just you and them. In a room together. Alone. And...you talk. About stuff..." Steve shrugged airily. "It's just that, man."
The last words Steve uttered sounded like they were underwater because Hunter had mentally blipped out after hearing the words 'In a room,' 'Alone' and 'talk'
His blood had frozen over.
Steve's wrist was promptly squeezed by Hunter's jittery fingers. And when the older scout curiously met his eyes, he said solemnly, "Steve. You don't have to go there."
Steve smiled his pleasant, lopsided smile. "I want to, Hunter."
His voice was so soft, so sure of itself, that a heavy weight of devastation unloaded in Hunter's stomach.
"Sure, it's scary at first." Steve continued, giving Hunter's knuckles a comforting rap. "But over time....it helps."
And then, he said the words that Hunter selfishly wished he had never heard.
"I go to therapy, and I think I'm now a better guy than I used to be."
The rest of the interaction had fallen flat because Hunter suddenly felt very disconnected from his body, and Steve could not reel him back.
He remembered the curt businesslike knock on the door of his castle bedroom. He knew it as the sound of guards delivering a message. A slip of paper from the Emperor himself, requesting his presence in the throne room. To talk.
He remembered the soft-spoken echoey order once he entered.
"Close the door,"
Hunter would obey. And then, they were alone.
'In a room'
'Alone'
'Talk'
Hunter knew how to read between the lines.
He felt stupid. Naive. They had told him that the things Belos had done to him were wrong.
They promised him that it was wrong.
But it seemed as though Hunter had severely misunderstood.
The actions themselves were not wrong, but the reasoning.
Hunter did not deserve to be punished for failing to carry out the dirty work of a vile, depraved man.
Every punishment was undeserved by default, on the grounds of it being delivered by Belos.
But Hunter, idiot that he was, had foolishly believed that he was never going to be hurt like that again.
And if he was, he would at least take comfort in the fact that it was wrong.
The realizations were crashing over him in overpowering waves. He felt pathetic for not being able to take it.
I'd like to leave the Emperor's Coven and never set foot in that throne room again
I go to therapy, and I'm now a better guy than I used to be
There were people on the Isles who hurt you and....and it was right...?
You face the consequences of your actions, and you allow them to hurt you in a way that was ethical, and then....you were a better person.
Of course.
Of course that was how it worked.
How could he possibly believe it worked any differently?
It had struck him the moment Steve had said it, that nobody on the Isles deserved therapy more than Hunter.
The actions of the Golden Guard had been unspeakably cruel. All the times he had stood there, turning a blind eye, as his uncle tore open a living creature. All the carnage Hunter had allowed to happen directly in front of him.
It was borderline brainless of him to ever assume that he could escape consequences.
He desperately wanted to be a good person. He would start ripping his own innards out if it meant he could be deemed a good person.
He'd do anything. Really.
Which was why he had decided to steel his nerves and agree to therapy.
He would walk into that room and his legs would not shake.
He would tilt up his chin, close his eyes, and stomach the consequences he had earned.
And then, Titan willing, he'd be one step closer to being good.
And yet...he would rather be dismembered than admit it, but...
Hunter was scared. He was scared to receive his punishment.
After everything he had done to innocent lives, Hunter had the audacity to be scared of the punishment.
He disgusted himself.
_______________________________
With the Emperor's Coven dismantled, the vacant police precinct currently had a plethora of uses.
Most notably, it was a research facility that Darius frequented. The current project was working on a safe sigil extraction procedure. Hunter gave Darius a headache by asking for updates every damn day, despite the latter's insistence that it would probably take years to perfect.
But today, when Hunter visited the building, he and Darius did not turn right towards the lab, but they ventured down an entirely foreign hallway.
Hunter was doing everything in his power to keep his breathing steady.
"Would you like me to sit in the waiting room?" Asked Darius.
"No," Hunter answered.
They continued to cut through the hallway in silence.
"Yes," He corrected himself, so quiet he worried Darius wouldn't hear it.
He did hear it. "Alright. I think we'll pick up some fatty junk from the market for dinner tonight. I don't feel like cooking."
Darius hated fatty junk.
Despite the terror teething his insides, Hunter's lip still quirked upwards, feeling the tiniest surge of warmth.
He loved fatty junk. And Darius knew it.
His therapy session was not the end of the world. Life would continue afterwards, and there would still be little pleasures.
And he would be a better person than he was now.
Once Darius checked him in, Hunter tried not to squirm in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, debating whether he wanted to pick up one of the trashy magazines on the rack.
According to the front cover of one of the tabloids, a star grudgby player had an organ eating scandal. Typical tabloid stuff.
"Hunter?" Called a soft, docile voice that nonetheless made him glad he didn't eat breakfast because he wanted to puke.
Darius tapped his knee to signal him to stand up, which Hunter did. He managed to not cave in.
He crossed the waiting room and pushed the door open, pretending that he wasn't experiencing alarming flashes of hands and eyes and dripping green blades.
He was ready. He was going to be a good person.
"Hello, Hunter~" Singsonged a small pudgy woman, who was in the process of donning an ankle length cardigan. Occellena. "Do you find it chilly in here, by any chance?" She asked.
Taken aback by the question, Hunter dumbly shook his head.
"Guess it's just me, then. It's a curse. Cold blooded n' all."
She had a head of plump indigo tentacles, and her bright amber eyes were magnified by jar-like spectacles.
"Well, let me know if you catch a chill and I'll turn up the heater."
The heater in question was a crystal ball the size of an ottoman with a blazing flame contained in the glass.
Occellena swept across the room to where Hunter stood and put a hand to the door. "Let's just close this and we can get--"
As far as he was aware, he did not do anything. But something made her take pause, and when she glanced his way, he felt himself jot.
"Or would you prefer to keep it open?"
The question initially escaped his comprehension. It seemed out of the realm of his own reality.
Hunter's throat tightened. And when he tried to speak, he failed.
He nodded again.
"Okay!" She said cheerily, like this was the best thing she had heard all day.
Out of the thousands of tangles in Hunter's stomach, one of them spread loose.
It was faint, but he distinctly felt the way that tangle relaxed itself.
"So, we'll leave the door open for now," said Occellena. "And if you decide at any point that you don't want that anymore, you can just pop right up and give it a swing shut."
Defenses still scaling high, Hunter had no idea what to make of this.
"Anyway," She made to walk towards her own chair, politely beckoning him to follow with one of her tentacles. "Shall we sit? I recently got a new couch. I'd really like some feedback on how comfy it is."
_______________________________
Darius would never say it, but his heart was hammering like a jackalope with worry for that ridiculous kid. His legs kept crossing and uncrossing in the waiting room chairs that seemed specifically designed to be uncomfortable.
Darius had bumped into Occellena on a few occasions in the upstairs kitchen. He had spiked his apple blood while she grounded oyster shells into her tea. He had never been one for chit-chat, but she had been nothing but bubbly with him, in spite of his less than enthusiastic responses.
He couldn't determine her skills as a therapist from just a few conversations, but the extensive research he had done to find a qualified candidate had promised that she was highly competent
But was she 'Golden Guard as a client' competent?
Was anyone?
If all else failed, she was sweet. Hunter loved sweet people.
He needed this to go well. If Hunter had a bad therapy experience, it would both stunt his recovery progress and leave him far less willing to try again for the foreseeable future.
Darius resisted the urge to stand up and pace the room, knowing his footsteps would probably disturb Hunter's session.
He noticed that the door remained slightly ajar, which he found peculiar.
Were they not supposed to keep the doors closed? Client confidentiality and all that mumbo jumbo?
Granted, he could not make out the words being said. The pitch of two voices, definitely, but it was all muffled nothingness.
His nerves were barbed during those first few minutes, in which Occellena carried on speaking for several seconds at a time, while Hunter only offered singular sentences as a response.
It was fine, he convinced himself. They were just warming up.
The moments passed, and the session seemed to take a turn in a positive direction.
The seconds in which the slightly lower pitched voice stretched a little bit longer every time he spoke. Louder too.
At some point, he seemed to take off babbling, presumably having one of those obsession buttons pushed.
Darius could only imagine that Occellena had asked about one of Hunter's many passions. That would certainly work wonders.
He had such terrible control of his own volume when he got too eager, so this was a promising sign.
After that, the conversation took a subdued dip, the silences hanging for longer.
And then, he heard footsteps. He straightened his posture, startled by the session seemingly wrapping up so soon.
But no. It was the door clicking shut.
From then on, total silence. Thirty minutes of just Darius, his trashy tales of organ eating athletes, and the vacant uncertainty of how Hunter's first therapy session was going.
And then it was over.
When Darius saw Hunter emerge from the room with Occellena's hand on his shoulder, his eyes were strikingly rimmed with red.
"So I'll see you next week. Don't worry yourself with telling Jewel, I'll have her put it down in the system. Be sure to take it easy for the rest of the evening, alright?"
Though he looked like every ounce of energy had been sapped out of him, Hunter still pulled up a smile for her, and Darius recognized sincere warmth on that face when he saw it.
"I will. Thanks, Occellena,"
And when he approached Darius, he looked relieved, ashamed, and dazed all at once.
"Hey," He greeted, uncharacteristically quiet.
"Hey," Darius responded, softly incredulous. "Shall we go ruin our skin with your accursed bag of grease now?"
His reddened eyes glinted with light boyish amusement. He nodded.
Hunter did not say much during their quest through the Bonesborough marketplace, and Darius vaguely wondered if he should be concerned.
As much as he complained about the boy being an incurable chatterbox, his silence unnerved him.
Hopefully, the session had used up too much of his blabbering muscles.
It wasn't until they were home and seated on opposite ends of the dining room table that Darius understood.
One of his most strictly enforced household rules was that dinner must be served on an actual plate. No takeout containers allowed on his property.
His nose wrinkled in distaste at the atrocity known as deep-fried eyeballs that were making a greasy mess out of his ornate lilac dishes.
Hunter was rolling the unsavoury little orbs around with his fork.
He seemed relaxed, if distracted, so Darius decided to pop the question, only to fill the silence, if anything.
"Do you want to tell me how it went today? With Occellena?"
Hunter's fork went still, but his eyes never dared to draw away from the fatty dinner in front of him.
When he opened his mouth, his bottom lip wobbled, searching for a voice that he did not seem to possess right now.
"It's alright," said Darius. "What happens in therapy stays in therapy. Isn't that what they say?"
Hunter did not respond to that, not even with a glance or a nod or anything of the sort.
He remained hung up on the struggle of getting his initial words out. The bump of his throat bobbed.
Finally, with a small, feeble voice that cracked around the edges, Hunter said, "I didn't think she was gonna be nice to me..."
The silence that fell was born of complete and utter bewilderment. Darius was so flabbergasted by the statement that he spoke before he fully thought it over.
"Well, that is to be expected from therapy," A touch of laughter rose and fell between the words. "I mean, surely you didn't think she would--?"
Darius cut himself off, his smile dropping as he noticed the visible tremor of Hunter's mouth, which he had forced into a thin line.
"Hunter?"
The boy lifted his head, bright brown eyes already pooling with an open, lost, childlike anguish. Then he blinked and it spilled to his cheekbones. He looked to Darius searchingly, like he wanted to ask something, but he could not utter a sound more.
"Hunter...? What did you think was going to happen...?"
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everythingne · 5 months
Text
marketing ploy ln4 - ch 6
Austria goes to shit. Great Britain follows.
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piastri!oc x lando norris, bestfriends brother/fake dating
warnings/notes: inappropriate comments, lando being overprotective, arguments/cursing, mildly severe car accidents (guys its an f1 fic what we were expecting. gotta do the cliche for my first fic), vague descriptions of injury, a few sexual comments, this is SO LONG. like 5k-6k words?
prev | next
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01 JULY, AUSTRIA.
I woke up with a bad feeling in my chest and an odd headache. My lone hotel room, to give Oscar and Lily some space since she was finally able to tag along again this season, felt so enclosing. Slowly pulling myself out of bed, I groaned and immediately went to get ready when I noticed the time. Luckily, it was only qualifiers today, so I didn't have much to do other than hide in my office and make sure no one's car was going to explode.
But god, on my worst day, everything has to go wrong.
First, Max's tires never got warmed. Something was broken, and I had to do so much boring bullshit paperwork. Then, Checo's brakes got sticky and we had to have him DNF. Then for some reason, half the fucking sensors hadn't even recorded anything so I couldn't even tell why they had gotten sticky. But I did feel a bit better (not at all) knowing it had also happened to a few other drivers so it wasn’t just us.
So I was having the greatest time, sarcasm fully intended. And then I completely missed seeing Oscar and Lily for lunch because I was in an emergency meeting. And by the time I got out of Red Bull's garage, it was nearing five at night and I hadn't had anything to eat or anything to drink after one water bottle and my headache still had gotten worse because of it.
And then got immediately swamped by reporters.
Luckily, I saved some class and patience and was able to make it through fine but by the time I got to McLaren's garage, I was about ready to snap at someone.
"Ollie!"
Thank god.
"Oscar." I hum as he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and then he makes a face as he notices just how exhausted I am.
"You guys had it rough today." He says and I just nod, rubbing at my jaw and rolling my neck as he steps back, leans over, and hands me a packet of some sort of assorted chocolates.
"I love you so much." I sigh as I open the packet and he laughs, dragging me further into the garage where everyone else is settled and just relaxing. McLaren had a really good day, both Lando and Oscar in Q1 and I can see everyone laughing and celebrating. A completely different feel from the tense garage at Red Bull. Lily gives me a tight hug when she sees me and urges me to come sit with her so we can catch up, we end up in a bit further and in a corner so we can have a bit of privacy. All is fine, and Lily is very quickly improving my mood as we giggle and share stories (and I happily answer all her questions about Lando and me) before we're approached by a guy I don't recognize.
"You guys need water?" He asks innocently, and though it's not extremely hot in Austria, I take one from his hands. Lily denies it, showing off the water bottle she's still drinking, and the guy seemingly just blips out.
"Weird." I hum, cracking open the water bottle and taking a sip of the cool liquid, "Never seen him before. Maybe he's new?"
"Or a volunteer?" Lily suggests and I shrug in response, eventually, Oscar comes over and wraps an arm around Lily's waist and she grins, popping a kiss on his cheek. Finally, the two of them were actually looking like a couple in public. Which, is probably what happens when two introverts start dating. I swear they didn't hold hands for months.
"Lando's being interviewed if you wanna wait for him for the media shit." Oscar pokes my hand and I pretend to flick the water bottle at him. The two of us make faces for a few seconds before I nod, taking another sip of my water bottle.
"Yeah, he and I are going out to eat again tonight. Andrea's idea." I sigh, looking over my shoulder where I can see Lando sitting with some people with a microphone in hand. I notice though it's not Sky, but rather ESPN, and I hum before turning back to Oscar and Lily and wishing them on their way. I pull out my phone, answering a few texts before someone walks up beside me. And it's the same guy from earlier.
"Oh. Hi." I say softly as he smiles at me, looking a little flustered for a second before he starts talking.
"Just wanted to say hello, I'm one of the mid-season hires. I'm an engineering assistant, Jordan." He held out his hand and I grinned, shaking his hand firmly.
"Olivia Piastri, Oscar's younger sister. I'm Red Bull's head analyst." I let go of his hand and Jordan nods, he wrings his hands before he continues talking and I feel the confidence he's trying to exhume here.
"Ah, I've seen a bit about you. Kinda hard to miss such a pretty face." Jordan grins, running a hand through his hair and tilting his head with a tiny grin. 
Is he flirting with me? Is this guy daft?
"Well, thank you. But uhm--" I look around the garage, hoping to maybe signal another person in the garage to come over and get me out of this just terribly awkward situation. Lando's wrapping up his interview, handing back his microphone and laughing softly as he shakes hands with the reporters. 
"Seriously, you're by far one of the most gorgeous girls I've seen." Jordan steps a bit closer and leans on the wall beside me with his body covering my view of the majority of the garage, "are you free tonight? I'd like to get to know you better."
I step back, putting myself back into the view of the garage as I try to keep my patience and shake my head no. I'd never had this issue before, how exactly does one stop unwanted advances? I'd never had to, I was never alone when these sorts of things happened to me. 
So, I stammer, "Ah, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend and.."
"Ay, is he here? Because I don't see anyone staking their claim on you." Jordan grins and I tighten my grip on the water bottle and click my tongue against my teeth. Okay, if he was gonna be like that I could be bitchy too. I glance back across the room one final time, making eye contact with Jon who gives me a sharp nod, but I don't see Lando anymore. Which... could be good or bad.
"He works for McLaren, and is a part of your team, so you might wanna... not... flirt with me?" I turn back to Jordan, make an uncomfortable grimace at him, and end up tightly crossing my arms over my uniform shirt, "So..."
"Yeah, who's your boyfriend then?" Jordan hums, looking over, "Jon?"
"Me," A hand slides across my waist, fingers digging into my skin harsh enough to likely leave bruises as I'm tugged back into Lando's chest. With one hand still firm on my waist, his other hand comes to my jaw so he can turn me to press a soft kiss to my lips before he leans back and whispers, "Hi, baby."
"Hi, Nori." I smile, turning back to Jordan who raises an eyebrow. And I can already tell this is going to be terrible because he hasn't exactly backed down. I see a reporter tilt their camera at us, and I grip Lando's wrist to tell him to back off. But Lando stays close, and my cheeks tint red as Jordan starts to speak.
"Got yourself a good-lookin' girl there, Lando." Jordan grins, winking at me and making my skin crawl. Lando's hands tighten on my waist, pulling me into him a bit more if that's even possible, and now I'm not even mad that he's doing this anymore. I wanted to be doing anything else than being here.
"Mhm. Olivia's my girl, don't you know? She's been my girlfriend for a while, so why dont'cha step back?" Lando smiles, but his threat is not hidden very well. 
"Ay, it's all good Lando, I don't like to share my meals."
"Oh-kay!" I shout but Lando takes over, stepping around me to point at Jordan and get in his face. I see half the McLaren garage turn, and someone shouts to send the media out of the garage as the cameras scramble to try and take photos and videos of the altercation.
"If you know what's good for you--" Lando grits, eyes narrowing as Jordan smirks in his face. His confidence was a far cry from the scrawny guy who had walked up to me prior, Lando continues through his teeth, "You won't say anything like that again or I'll make sure you can't speak anymore."
"Sorry, man. Didn't realize this would piss you off so much," Jordan takes a step back, his smile making it known his apology was fake, and my tight grip on Lando's wrist makes it so he won't follow.
"Bye, Jordan," I say, voice soft but level. A sort of period to the end of whatever conversation Lando and Jordan had silently through their eyes before Jordan backed off and slipped into the crowd of McLaren officers off to the side. I keep my iron grip on Lando's wrist and he slowly turns around to look at me. At this point, my exhaustion and anger from the whole day is bubbling just under my skin. Unlike my twin, I was never good at completely holding myself back when I got like this.
"Lando." My tone comes out much colder than I'm expecting, and I grab his wrist again and forcefully tug him to my side as I hiss, "What the fuck was that?!"
"Did you hear what he said?"
"Yes! But was that worth threatening him?"
"What did you want me to do?" He said and when I peeked over his shoulder and saw everyone watching, I grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him into Andrea's vacant office, slamming the door shut and pointing at him.
"I had it handled, okay?" I snap, "He was just being a jackass, you didn't have to threaten to make him unable to speak--Lando! Who the fuck says that?!"
"Did you have it handled? That was you having it handled?" Lando asks, incredulously, sitting on the edge of Andrea's desk as I stay at the door, using my heel to keep it closed just in case someone tried to push it open at any point since I knew the door didn't lock.
"You don't need to protect me like that, Lando, it's not your job!"
"It's not, I'm your boyfriend--" And the rest of what Lando says fizzles out in my head. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. The word that had been taunting me for weeks. Lando Norris, my boyfriend for the media. The boy who could never be mine. And something in my chest breaks, I can feel the tether finally snap, and I shout.
"No, you are not!" My volume surprises me, and I know McLaren can probably hear us immediately after saying it, so I drop my voice down to a hard snapping tone, "You aren't my boyfriend, Lando. You aren't! You can't be, no matter how much I love you, or you love me, or if we fall in love after all of this is over--you are not my boyfriend and you will never be because we can't be in love, Lando!"
"We can't? Who said that?!" He snaps back, "Do you think I've been doing all of this for media? For a fucking paycheck? God, no Ollie. I fell in love with you the first time Oscar brought you around! Do you think I agreed with this for a check? No, I agreed to that stupid contract because it's you! If it was anyone else I would've just walked the fuck out of that office, it's you I want, only you, only you, Olivia."
"But you know you can't have me, so why string me along like this? We can't be together, no matter what we want, we're gonna have to break up at some point! So why should we even try?" 
"Who cares what they say? Zak, Andrea, Christian? You're gonna let them run your life?" Lando steps closer to me, taking my jaw into his gentle hold, voice so soft I feel my heart drum against my lungs, "We do what they say, sure, but once we've completed that contractual obligation... can they tell us we can't ever be this again? Be... us, again?"
"I can't do this Lando," I whisper, bringing my hands to my chest and he steps back. The space between us suddenly felt so vast, and something in me clicked and I knew something irreversible was going to be said. That maybe I had started the downfall here, and Lando's hurt expression tells me I have.
He can only whisper, "Why?"
"I just..." I stammer, making a vague gesture to the room. There's no way for me to express the thousands of thoughts that race through my head, a constant loop of some F1 circuit of emotional mess slamming into every reasonable thought and fizzling out reason.
"Because you're scared of being loved? You're scared of what will happen if you fall in love?" Lando accuses and I can't answer those questions, because I am. I'm so scared. But not because of Lando. Because of media. So I shout the next best option.
"I never wanted the attention! I didn't become a driver because I can't handle the media like you all can! And yet I end up here, and--" I go to keep talking and Lando holds up a hand, shouting over me,
"Okay, then back out! You clearly want nothing to do with me, or this, or everything that's happening, so go tell Christian you're done!"
Silence. I swallow thickly because no. I don't want to be done. I want to fight tooth and nail for everything in this relationship, but also, was this what was best? Should I back out now, before everything we've done catches up to us? A hubris that needs to be checked? I knew from the beginning I was going to burn, but not like this. Never did I think it would be like this. 
"Olivia..." Lando whispers, and I feel something roll down my cheeks. I'm crying I realize. The world is blurry, my throat is dry, and I'm crying over a relationship I can now see we both want but... at least to me, we can never have.
Do I ask Christian..?
"No, Lando." I sigh, doting under my teary eyes, "This is why. This is why. We will end up here one day, and I can't do that. I... I'll talk to you later."
"Ollie, wait!"
I turn, leaving the office in a hurry. I shove through the McLaren workers who try to stop me and once I'm in the clear, I run. The Red Bull paddock isn't far and once I get there I can't breathe, shoving through people who now wear the same uniform as me. My office doesn't even feel safe, the flowers on my desk mocking me, and I grab them and in a fit of rage, I throw them across the room. It doesn't make the pain in my chest leave.
“Olivia!” Someone shouts and I turn, Christian just barely in the doorway. I shout, without thinking, without even pausing.
“I’m backing out! I’m done with that media stunt—!” And a hiccup breaks my sentence, “Get me out of it!”
“I—“
“—Now, Christian!”
The garage is silent after my scream, and poor Christian looks horrified as he nods, and shuts the door to my office. I let a shaky breath out as I realize what I’ve done is irreversible, but there’s so much pain in my whole heart I can’t tell if that’s what’s hurting me. I sink to my knees on the floor, a hand on my chest, a hand on the carpet, and I sob.
I don’t even know why I’m crying.
An arm is around my shoulder, a set of hands resting on my elbows as someone whispers to me. I don't even know who the people are when I look up, and the sight of both Max and Checo kneeling in front of me makes the tears double. At some point, Checo leaves, once I've calmed enough for Max to convince me to lay down with his jacket covering my legs as I hiccupped and slowed down my breathing with Max's hand applying solid pressure to my chest.
Charles and Daniel come back with Checo, who then leaves the room entirely, and I end up with my weird little mixed driver support group on the floor in my office.
Something so odd, something that should not be happening in any way, but yet here we are.
Somehow, one relationship shattering had made the other relationships in my life more clear. Relationships that had started casually and professionally, and ended up with me now having twenty or so brothers at this point. 
Brothers.
Just like Oscar.
-
Max drops me at Oscar's hotel room a few hours later when he returns from his date with Lily. She ends up going off on her own, with a few of the other WAGs, to give Oscar and me privacy. I settle on the couch, sipping a water bottle as Oscar looks out the window. I hadn't told anyone else what Lando and I had argued about, Max had kinda picked up on it as had Charles, but they had given me a berth. A space to explain. When I didn't take the invitation, they didn't try and pull me in to say anything. Which I appreciated beyond words.
"What happened?" Comes the soft voice of my twin. I knew Oscar wouldn't have been like them though. 
“I backed out,” I say, rubbing a hand along the fabric beneath me.
"What?" Oscar turns to face me, "You backed out?"
"Of the shit with Lando, I can't do it anymore. I can't have my emotions being toyed with like this anymore. And we both like each other but one day they're gonna come along and tell us we need to break up and we have to listen to them." I find a stray string in the couch stitching and begin picking it. My nails dig into them, making a slightly bigger hole. It feels like the way I'd ripped a hole into my own heart earlier.
"I had a feeling this was gonna happen." Oscar walks across the room to sit on the arm of the couch, looking over at me, "what happened?"
"I just had a shit day, and... and when this guy at McLaren started flirting excessively with me he got super overprotective and threatened the guy. Which... isn't the worst but he could've handled it better." I wave my hands, "But I had such a shit day I just blew up at him over it, and we fought, and he told me to back out if I couldn't handle it... and when I got back to Red Bull I just did it. I didn't even think and now I think I made a huge fuckin' mistake but I can't go back on it now."
"Could you talk to Christian? Ask him to wait?" Oscar hums, his hand coming up to card through my hair again and I melt into his touch as per usual.
"I dunno." I murmured, closing my eyes, "I just wanna sleep the rest of the day off."
"We can talk about it tomorrow after the race, okay?" He says, looking down at me before turning to look at his phone as it buzzes on the table. I look up at him and see his jaw tense, hand pausing on my head as he makes a face.
"Oh, Christ." He whispers, turning his phone to me. I climb up to sit next to him, eyes widening as I look over the post he shares and my stomach falls to my chest.
"This is not what Christian told me would happen," I whisper, Oscar's hand squeezing my upper arm in some sort of semblance of support. Of course, getting out of this mess with Lando wouldn't be easy.
Now I needed to talk to Christian. As soon as possible.
01 JULY, TWITTER ↴
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written by Julia Sine, 01 July, 2024.
Cars aren't the only thing racing down the track in Austria this weekend, so are some hearts! In an exclusive interview after the qualifier today, multiple McLaren and Red Bull workers spoke with reporter Julia Sine about what might become the next 'it couple' after Travis Kelce and Taylor Swift.
"Lando and I first spoke about it in Bahrain. He said the two of them have been close since Oscar's rookie season last year and he was worried Olivia's job would be at stake if their relationship ever leaked to the public," Steve Atkins, McLaren's Head of Communications explained while standing in the paddock with Chief Executive Officer Zak Brown and Team Principal Andrea Stella, "I went and spoke with Christian Horner, the Team Principal of [Oracle Red Bull Racing] and we agreed that since they were on separate teams, and Olivia was an analyst and not an engineer, there was no conflict of interest. Olivia did sign an NDA, just to make sure she wasn't leaking race information to Lando but it was never brought to our attention if Olivia and Lando ended up dating."
"If the two of them are dating, which again I've had nothing clarified to me if they are or aren't, I'd imagine they've been keeping it private due to concerns with the media and fans." 
"Olivia and Lando have a very unique connection, and we here at McLaren are all supportive of relations between teams. All our drivers are friends at the end of the day and we support [Lando and Oscar] being friends with any of the drivers outside of racing. However, I will say we have seen some tensions growing between our drivers and Red Bull." Andrea spoke with me and Zak right before leaving for a meeting, Zak agreed with Andrea, and he further stated, "A lot of the tension we've been seeing with Max and Lando on the track stems from this, in my opinion."
When I made my way to Red Bull to ask some more questions about the situation, I was only able to briefly speak with Alice McLoughlin, Red Bull's Head of Communications who said, "The relationships our staff members get into is not any of our business as long as it's not a conflict of interest or damaging to the staff member themselves. I have not been told if there is for certain a relationship, but if there is I wish both of them well but we will be waiting for their announcement before we decide anything.
read more online at popsugar.uk!
--
04 JULY, 2024 - MILTON KEYNES, UK.
My phone ringing breaks the three hour silence I've subjected myself to after my meeting with Christian and Ada. The meeting where I had said me wanting to back out of the contract was emotionally charged and said I no longer wanted to. Luckily, they hadn't started the process of backing me out of the contract yet, so it was pretty easy for me to stay.
Reaching over, I grab my phone and read the contact, pausing before lifting it to my ear, "Lando..?"
"Ollie, hey... uhm, how are you?" He sounds uncertain, almost like he wasn't sure if I was going to pick up. I can't blame him for thinking that, since our last conversation was that big fight.
"Tired." I admit, but don't say it's because I've lost sleep thinking I was going to lose him, "I'm working late again tonight."
"Oh, sorry... do you want me to call you later?" I hear what sounds like a gear shifting, and I briefly wonder if he's on his sim.
"No, I'm just uploading files. And your voice is honestly more welcome than the silence of a nearly empty Red Bull garage... why'd you call?" I turn to look out the windows at the slowly setting sun, watching as the world is beginning to be coated gold.
"I wanted to apologize for the whole thing with Jordan, I shouldn't have threatened him like that." Lando's words come out rushed and squishy, like he's holding out his heart and expecting me to step on it.
I like to imagine gently covering his heart, protecting it, as I speak softly, "No, no you're fine. I was having a shitty day and I took it out on you. I really should be the one apologizing, you didn't do anything wrong. You were protecting me. Thank you for that."
"Yeah, it's fine. I'd do it a thousand times." He says, then theres a long pause. It's not akward, if anything it allows me to feel the emotions roll through me-- embarrassment at my past behavior, nervousness for his call, and a sick sort of love building in my gut that I, for once, did not push away.
Finally, Lando whispers, "did you back out?"
"I was going to, but... I talked to Christian this morning when I was a bit more level headed and we agreed I'm gonna stay." I say, and I hear him sigh with relief. A small smile bubbles across my lips, letting the giddy feeling fill my body as I tap my toes along the floor and spin my chair.
"Can you come outside?" Lando's question catches me off guard.
"What?"
"Look out your window." He says, and I scramble up from my desk and walk to the big glass panes that cover my office, looking down into the mostly vacant parking lot and there he is.
"You are something else." I whisper, then look back at my computer. I could finish the work tomorrow, "I'll be down in ten."
I scramble to save my work, kicking off my work shoes for the actual nice YSL heels I'd worn in. Once they're secure on my feet, I touch up my makeup and spritz myself with perfume. The whole time I'm giggling to myself, smiling as I pack up my desk and then throw my belongings into my purse and find myself half running to the elevator. I hurry to text Oscar that I'll be back a bit later than expected as the floors ping, and when I hit the ground floor, I throw my phone in my bag without a care, clock out and scan out, and open the door to the cool night breeze rippling across my blushing, hot skin.
God, it was so good to let myself feel this raw emotions again.
Lando pushes himself off his car, hands still in his pockets, and I bee line to him. Luckily, he kinda gets the hint of what I'm asking, and his hands come to rest on my waist when I reach him.
I pause to put my purse on the hood of his car, and then grab his collar and pull his lips to mine.
He laughs into the kiss, our teeth briefly smashing before I right us and press in deep. His arms wrap around my waist and he tugs me closer, one hand sliding up the side of the dress shirt I wear before tangling its fingers in the hair at the base of my neck. When we pull back, briefly, I giggle as he peppers kisses to my hairline before pulling me back in.
"Fuck, I missed you." He whispers against my lips and I step back, just enough to see him--and he looks exhausted. My hands come to his face and he melts into my touch, almost like he's craving it.
"I missed you too." I murmur back, watching the way he holds his eyes shut. I can see the layers of stress physically peeling away from him and being swept away by the hand I raise to run through his curls and the other hand I slide down to apply that comforting firm pressure to the chest--right under his collarbones, and then his head falls to the crook of my neck. One innocent little peck placed on my collarbone that has me shiver.
We stand like that for a while. Two silent beings in the windy, cold, English night, and eventually I convince Lando to sit in his car when my thinly covered legs start to get cold. We end up just... driving. A silence enveloping us as I rest my head on his shoulder and he keeps that damn hand on my thigh. It's gonna be the death of me. He is going to be the death of me.
But, loving Lando Norris is a death I would welcome with open arms.
04 JULY -- INSTAGRAM ↴
OLIVIAPIASTRI MADE A NEW POST!
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxverstappen, and 145k others...
oliviapiastri: my pretty boy <3
landonorris: this mystery guy needs a haircut hes stealing my look >:(
⤷ oliviapiastri: you'll get over it
maxverstappen: i want u to know kelly shouted 'THANK GOD' when i showed her this post
oscarpiastri: OH SO THIS IS WHY YOU MISSED OUR FUCKING MOVIE NIGHT??
⤷ oscarpiastri: ANSWER ME HELLO?
⤷ oliviapiastri: BRO HOLD ON I AM DOING SOMEONE
⤷ opheliapiastri: OLIVIA????
⤷ oscarpiastri: HOLD THEFUCKON??? OLIVIA LOUISE RAY PIASTRI.
⤷ oaklynnpiastri: moment of silence for our mystery guy. oscar is approaching his location at rapid speeds.
⤷ landonorris: rip
⤷ oscarpiastri: shut.
⤷ oliviapiastri: @ oscarpiastri I MEANT SOMETYHIN. I MEANT TOT TYPE SOMETHING. DO NOT SHOW UP TO HIS HOUSE.
christianhorner: geri said 'good that little fucker didn't break her heart' and slammed the steak knife back into the knife holder.
⤷ oliviapiastri: OH MY GOD?? THANK U MOM?? @ gerihalliwell
⤷ gerihalliwell: of course :)! girls stick together!
09 JULY -- GREAT BRITAIN.
"Max, make sure you're giving space here. These turns can get tricky." I hear someone say in the radios, my hands fidgeting with my keychains as I watch the race on the screens, and then glance over to the sensors. All was running well, back tires a bit hot, but nothing we were concerned about.
"Ollie, tell your brothers best friend to get out of the way." Max frustratedly huffs and I laugh, leaning forward to speak into the comms.
"Logan is in P9, actually, not P1." I chime, luckily getting a soft chuckle from Max. We'd been doing exceptionally well this season as per usual, even if I had sort of stopped paying attention a bit. I did note the tensions between him and Lando were really high during this race. The two had been neck and neck since the beginning, and everytime they got a one-up on the other it just made them push harder. They had a pretty good gap between them and the rest of the racers, with Oscar holding his own in P3. It seemed like another weekend with those three on top, but at least watching this race was interesting.
The breaking sensors start flashing, indicating they're running too hot, so I chime, "Max, ease up on breaking. We might want to look into getting your tires swapped for mediums soon."
Max doesn't respond, but he does ease up on the breaking. Which makes me feel a bit better.
"Lando's coming in hot to the pit." Someone says, and I glance up over the computers and my eyebrows knit. He's driving weird. Like... almost as if he doesn't have control of steering. I see the safety car prepare for a possible departure and I stand, looking down at Max's sensors, and then someone shouting brings my attention back up.
"He can't stop!"
There was a moment where it felt like everything froze. My hands couldn’t find my mouth fast enough to hide my shock. Lando’s car slams probably two hundred kilometers into the barrier that leads into the pit lane and skids along the wall all the way inside the lane until it spins and slams into another one of the barriers. Red Bulls paddock is first in the pit this round, and I can see the smoke beginning to billow around Lando's car immediately once the car fully stops. People are shouting, McLaren engineers sort of straggling by the exit to the track as a yellow is waved, waiting for a command. I see Jon amongst them, shouting into his headset, and I hate the silence lets me hear his voice strain as he hollers,
"Lando! Lando, are you alright?"
I can't hear a response from the McLaren driver even if I strain my ears.
“Lando—come on.” I find myself saying, hearing Max and Checo on the radio asking for clarification of what happened, but also hearing someone say it was clear for people to go and get Lando out of a burning car. My headphones are yanked off my head and Christian’s hand firmly pushes me forward.
“Go.” Is all he has to say.
I’m running faster than I can carry myself, stumbling over numb legs as I sprint to the car. My hands scrape the concrete as I nearly fall, but I save myself the embarrassment of wiping out with a quick stumble and keep running. I can hear more people behind me as I climb up, holding onto the halo to stabilize myself.
“Lando!” I shout as I grab Lando’s helmet and slowly slide his head back as I start to detach him from his seat belts. Jon is there immediately, helping my shaky hands undo the devices. I keep looking at Lando's visor, trying to catch his eyes, but there’s no time to waste as I smell and hear the various engineers who'd run out trying to extinguish the car. I get one side of the belt off, starting to detach the hands device from the helmet by Jon's command when two hands grab my wrist.
Snapping my gaze up, I meet Lando’s eyes from where I’m sitting, one leg wrapped around the halo so I don’t fall, one hand on his neck as I hold the clasp to the hands device, the other on the back of the car as his eyes meet mine.
I’ve never seen Lando look so…terrified. His bright eyes are staring me down, pupils small and shaking as his grip tightens on me. I know my own eyes can’t look much different.
“Ollie?” He whispers and I shush him, detaching him from the car fully as I grab him by the shoulders.
“I got you, Nori. Jon and I got you.” I say softly, looking up to where other drivers are stopped on the track—standing up in their cars to get a better view, “get up so everyone knows you’re okay.”
Lando’s hands grab my shoulders, my hands sliding to his ribs as I slowly help him to his feet with Jon on standby. Medical and McLaren officials swarm around us, hands out and ready to help as I slowly unlatch my leg and slide off the side of the car. Lando’s weight on me is nearly crushing, but once we get him out he collapses even further into my arms in a cry of agony. Two hands find my back, medics reaching to grab Lando and I almost fight them in retaliation.
“Ollie!” someone shouts and I turn to see Jon running along to the medics side. I feel stuck, trying to swallow something that makes my eyes burn. Lando’s still got a vice grip on my wrist and when the medics try to separate us—it only tightens.
“Mr. Norris—“ The woman tries.
“Lando.” I finally find the courage to move forward, they’ve got him on a gurney now, trying to lay him back but he keeps fighting them. I can’t begin to understand why, “you’re okay. Let them take care of you.”
They tilt his visor up, and I gently lay him back, Jon reciting medical information over my head as they begin to assess his damage, still pulling us further away from the car which I note is now long extinguished. They stop us at McLaren's paddocks, Jon dipping inside to grab Lando's things as we wait for an ambulance to meet us here.
“Olivia.” I hear Lando’s muffled voice and I feel tears fill my eyes as I lean down, pressing my forehead to where his visor now lays and let out a shuttering sigh that makes my body ache just as much as my heart.
“You’ll be okay, Lando. But you have to let them help you.” I speak in a strained voice, feeling one of his hands come to wrap around my waist. I find his other hand and squeeze it, before that hand comes to rest under his helmet, “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“I don’t wanna go without you.” he whispers, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces at his soft plea for me to stay. But I know its useless.
"I'm so sorry, baby." The words feel forced out of my mouth with how much effort it takes it whisper them, "You gotta go. And I have to stay."
"Ollie, please..." He whispers, and I press a kiss to the spot on his helmet where his lips would be, then take his gloved hand on my waist and lift it to my lips and kiss his hidden knuckles. The barrier feels unfair, but I'm doing what I can.
"As soon as I can be, I will be by your side." I say as Jon reappears, the ambulance coming up screaming besides us.
"You promise?" Lando says under the sirens and the shouting and I nod.
"I swear on my life."
That's what ends up being enough, because Lando finally lets go of me after one more final kiss to the 'mouth' of his helmet. The medics and EMTs swarm us, carefully moving Lando who groans and gasps in pain. I can't imagine what injuries he might have as they slowly and carefully load him into the back of the ambulance. Jon speaks with Lando all the while, and right before the doors slam he turns to me and shouts,
"I've got him, Olivia!"
And all I can do is nod, blinking back tears as the doors shut. The second they're pulling away I find myself crying, full body shaking that wrecks me, and I manage to be pulled into the sanctuary of the Red Bull garage by Kylie and a few other employees before it can really be taken advantage of for media points.
But I know I'll keep on my promise. Especially when Christian tells me to just do one thing.
"Go."
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tangerinesilk · 9 months
Text
- I CAN SEE YOU : TANGERINE X FEM!READER
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tangerine is going on a solo mission… well, at least he thinks he is. with lemon missing by his side, he’s left with one other option that is supposed to make his job easier. unfortunately for him, you’re not the easiest to work with. stubborn, strong-minded and feisty. you’re both so alike yet nothing has made your bloods boil more than each other. 
rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)
warnings ✷ (very quick) smut: fem receiving, kisses all over bodies, a needy but quick hj, p in v, dirty talk, praising, implied rough (consensual) sex / others: cursing, drinking alcohol, mention and use of guns and violence, male hurting female (?) but not between main characters, mentions of blood and wounds.
tropes ✷ enemies to lovers!!!, person a is all talk no bite + person b knows that but still pushes them, playful banter, hiding together in small spaces, fake dating (?), if one is hurt– the other goes a bit crazy, says ‘i dont care’ then cares 5 seconds later. 
word count ✷ 6k!
songs that fit the vibe ✷ i can see you - taylor swift | moth to a flame - swedish house mafia + the weeknd | king of my heart - taylor swift | attention - charlie puth | nonsense - sabrina carpenter
a/n ✷ so i made a poll a months ago and this trope + pairing won! i’ve honestly been wanting to write a dave lizewski one as well and got a request idea. so.. we will see lmao. i will probably post then maybe edit later if there's still things i don't like... also, if you couldn't tell but im kind of a swiftie so i will love to write fics inspired by whole ass albums y'all.
but i hope this is what u guys expected and wanted. i actually do love writing for tangerine. just gives into my delulu thoughts. also, if you guys would like a plain pwp fic and not all of this fluff and dialogue stuffed inside, pls let me know bc i am definitely into that idea. 🫡
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“You had to go and get yourself shot… then you wonder why you have to wear a bulletproof vest. Fuckin’ hell.” 
Tangerine kept his voice at a hushed tone, basically talking under his breath as he strutted through the grand hall of the hotel. Golden light glossed over his figure, passing by couples who were at standing tables with their cocktails.
“Well, Thomas said-”
“Thomas didn’t say shit. Don’t get me fuckin’ started now.”
Lemon already knew Tan was in a bad mood. Another Thomas the Tank Engine factoid wasn’t a playful move right now.
“Hey, mate. Don’t get all fussy wit’ me. You’re just mad about your new partner for the night.” Lemon rolled his eyes.
“Can’t believe I can’t be held accountable of myself. I can handle it on my own but you had to call the fuckin’ princess-” 
“She’s good. Your denial is obnoxious, bruv. It’s only a night, you get in and get out.” Lemon replied, holding his wounded side as he laid in his bed back in England, “What happened between you two that you’ve got beef like this?”
“No time to explain nor do I have the patience.” He arrived at the small bar to the side of the room, “If I leave her behind, can I take half the pay that’s supposed to be hers?” Tangerine asked.
“She’s supposed to be wearing a red dress. You’ll see her there… and please don’t cause a scene.” His brother begged.
“No promises.” He replied before hanging up. 
Tangerine blows a sigh past his lips, quickly asking for his drink of choice before scanning the mass of people around him. His blue eyes could only search so fast for the man that the hit was called on, causing him an instant frustration when he’s already worried about you ruining things regardless of how long you’re together.
“He’s next to the woman in the tacky gold ballgown… about two feet away from the ice sculpture.” Your soft voice suddenly spoke next to him, “But, I didn’t need to tell you that, right?”
The smirk on your face burned at his nerves and you noticed the clench in his jaw.
“Well, if it isn’t the fuckin’ Queen herself.” He said in a stern tone, “What? Germany was too borin’ for ya? Had to figure out a way to ruin someone’s operation?”
“Lemon is the one who called me in, and it isn’t about you. It’s about the pay out… you’re bound to screw something up with your ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ tactic.” You trailed, rolling your eyes as you turned your head away.
“And I’m certainly not afraid to use that tonight and not your fucked up, painfully long mind games like some fuckin’ psycho thilling killer.” He spat as his drink was place in front of him.
You narrowed your eyes at him, “Fuck you.”
“Darling, I’m flattered, but we have more important things to do right now.” He lowly groaned, purposefully looking at his target so his back was facing toward you.
Behind his tall stature, you glimpsed past his shoulder and saw your target chatting up a woman. 
He won’t be smiling for long, you thought.
“Alright, I’ll wait for him to slip away, follow him and you go through the kitchen.” Tangerine said under his breath, keeping quiet for only you to hear him.
“To go where?” You ask, walking around him to stand face to face.
“Erm…” He sighed, “Whatever car or vehicle you got here in, drive yourself back to whatever place you’re staying and I’ll figure out how to wire you the money.” He shrugged, downing the rest of his drink.
He took a step but you placed your hand on the center of his chest, “Not so fast. I’m not going down if you make a mess of this.”
“I don’t make messes. Well, actually, I get away with them once I’ve done ‘em so, I don’t need to worry about a liability.” Tangerine smirked, a bit of a tilt to his head. Cheeky bastard.
“The only liability here is the one who is ready to pull the trigger in his back.” You said before huffing, “I’m not sorry for what happened in Paris, but that was my choice. So, I’m going with you because it’s our operation. You know… I don’t need a fucking helping hand either.” You practically growled.
The two of you held a long gaze, creating a tense eye contact before he sighed, “Didn’t even say anythin’ about Paris, but if you’d like to assume I’m still mad ‘bout that, be my guest, princess.”
His shoulder bumped yours, making you clench your jaw before quickly following behind his tall stature. While he seemed persistent, you grabbed his hand which made him stop in his tracks in the middle of the dance floor.
He turned, “Am I your babysitter?”
“No, you’re my date. Hold my hand, you idiot.” Your eyes pierced through his.
As he looked down at your hand, he slowly grasped it, your fingers intertwining with one another’s before he proceeded through the glamorous crowd.
Couples swayed and waltzed between each step you took, assuming you were unnoticed by your target. Tangerine kept his eyes on him, easy to with the frosty-white full head of hair he had slicked back. The woman in the tacky dress ran her hand down his shoulder, pressing her lips to his ear to whisper something which made you and Tangerine veer to the side at a standing table.
“Are they movin’?” He asked, facing his back toward them.
Your eyes smoothly shift, taking a quick glance at the assumed couple. You ran your hand down Tangerine’s arm, accidentally feeling how toned his bicep was through the thick fabric of his suit jacket. You almost glanced down, wanting to give another squeeze before clearing your throat. A heat rose on your cheeks as you turned your head to face away from him.
“Y-Yeah, near the bathroom. There’s also a backdoor that leads up to the second floor… lots of private rooms for reasons that are obvious.” You said in a hushed tone, moving away from him to the other side of the table.
“Alright, since you wanna tag along, I’ll follow them and you cover the door.” Tangerine suggested once again.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “You do understand what teamwork is, yes?”
He chuckled, “Yes, I go up there, shoot a few rounds, then we make a getaway.”
“Will you just trust me?”
“Your trust means nothing… I need to know you’re not going to fuck anything up. Just like in Paris.”
You smirked, “So you do have that against me.”
“Well, it’s not like it was your best. Leave me with a shot in the arm, Lemon on the ground and you, little miss greed, get away with your cash. If we all did this job for money, we wouldn’t be riskin’ our lives just runnin’ around killin’ or resucin’ people just for someone’s dime. You obviously do though.”
You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know me…”
“Nor do you know me so…” He huffed, “Let’s just do what we have to do.”
There was tension between you, as if there was more fo a protective instinct than hate toward one another. You couldn't figure out Tangerine’s deal. Why was he so hostile toward you? Yes, what happened in Paris was fucked up, but he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. He didn’t take shit from anyone, so why were you getting under his skin?
“Shit!” He grunted under his breath, seeing your target disappear into the hall.
The two of you hurry, yet still try to act casual to not raise eyebrows, and exit into the same hallway. As you push open the door, you hear the two talking in the stairwell before another door closes.
“You got your gun on you?” He asked as his hand slid into the back of his pants.
“Of course.” You scoffed, tearing up the slit in your dress. He saw the small pistol strapped to your thigh, making his mouth a bit dry.
He nodded, “Good…” 
Taking a quick breath, Tangerine opened the door. You slipped through and he followed behind, your backs facing one another as you scanned the hallway. It wasn’t narrow but if anyone slipped out of one of the rooms, they were right in your sights.
“I’ll take this one, you take that one.” He whispered, pointing his gun to the opposite door of his.
With your heart in your throat, you slowly crack the door open and don’t see anyone before a body flies from behind and slammed the door open from Tangerine’s side. The woman lied dead on the floor, blood all over his dress, and just as you turned around, a punch slid across your cheek. 
Instinctively, you ducked to dodge the second jab and swoop under to get on the other side of the man as Tangerine wrapped his arms around the guy to pull him to the ground.
Tan loudly grunted as he tried to gain control, basically attempting to straddle him in order to push his arm against his neck. Even with all his strength, the man gripped his hands around Tangerine’s arms to throw him off along with trying to push his knee between his crotch.
“Watch the door!” Tan directed to you. 
You nodded, catching your breath with your back against the wall by the door. The adrenaline ran through your veins and heard your heartbeat in your ears as one tear of blood dripped down your cheek. The crack of bones made you turn your head, seeing the man’s body go limp as Tan began to stand over him.
He quickly walked over the man, as if he was in the way, and comes to your side.
“He nicked you bad. Lemme see.” Tan said, your eyes meeting his as he held your cheek. The touch of his hand seemed to be some comfort, his thumb wiping the blood away and trying to see how bad the wound was.
“Bastard.” He muttered, “C’mon, let’s go before someone comes up.”
Without a word in, he grabbed your hand and dragged you behind his lead. You two headed for the exit door down the other side of the hall as you heard footsteps rumble from the other stairs you came up.
“Wait a minute.” Tan said, fiddling with his belt buckle.
Your eyes widen, “What on earth are you doing?”
He smirked, “Relax, darling. You flatter yourself too much.”
You rolled your eyes as the sound of his belt slid against the fabric of his belt loops before curling the leather strap around the door to keep it locked. The two of you fled down the stairs and suddenly found yourselves in the kitchen area. A few eyes followed as you both ran through, very obvious that you were running from something, but still aimed to get to some kind of exit.
With sudden luck, Tangerine saw his car across the street, instantly knowing which way he was supposed to go. Without skipping a beat, he grabbed your hand once more and the two of you ran across the street. Hopping into the passenger seat and Tan taking off was like a blur, just happening in seconds.
“Y/N?” Tan saying your name woke you from your trance.
“Huh?” You asked, shaking your head.
He quickly turned his head, “You alright?” He said with concern, one hand on the steering wheel and his foot easing off the gas.
“Y-Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t know what happened back there.” You trailed, a bit embarrassed. You were never one to let your guard down, well– enough to get hit right smack in the face.
“Are you sure?”
You turned your attention to him, “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked rhetorically.
“‘Cause of that big cut on your cheek.”
You narrowed your eyes, “Alright, what’s your big plan now, Einstein? Were just going to sleep in your car and hope we don’t wake up decapitated?”
He half-chuckled, “You truly think so little of me, don’t you?”
“Is that rhetorical?”
Tan rolled his blue eyes, “We’re goin’ somewhere safe.”
– – –
You wanted to believe you were strolling into some kind of trap. The lobby had a classic aesthetic to it, pale gold wallpaper and a wall of keys behind the person at the small front desk. You two placed your go-bags on the red carpeted ground as Tangerine checked into a room.
“Hello Mr. Tangerine.”
Oh, great. He’s some guest of honor here.
“‘Ello, Colin. My usual room.”
“Is that what you say in front of all the girls?” You tilted your head, standing behind him.
He rolled his eyes, “‘Cuse her.”
The man chuckled, crinkles by his eyes, “How many nights are you staying this time?”
This time. You could scoff out loud but you didn’t want to hear the tude from him.
“Just overnight. Nothin’ too serious.”
“Well, enjoy your stay, as always.” The man nodded before Tangerine thanked him.
The two of you head toward the old elevator, watching him quickly press the up button before you stand by his side. You half chuckled, “I’ve never seen you act so kindly toward anyone, tell me, does he see you bring girls through here all the time or-”
“Has anyone ever told you to shut your pie hole?”
“Hmm, not verbally. But, those eyes of your say enough for me… you’re too predictable, sometimes, Tan.”
He gave you a lingering look as the door opened, passing him into the elevator. The two of you make your way to the fifth floor and the hall is eerily quite for a hotel full of private contractors and assassins. You had your hands behind your back then patiently waited for Tangerine to jiggle the key into the lock, opening a door to a huge room with a surprisingly wide view.
“You’d think the curtains were closed.” You muttered as he walked over, closing them anyways.
Suddenly, he stripped from his suit jacket and you couldn’t help but see how tight his button up was around his biceps and chest.
“Did you get that a size too small?” You ask as you chunk your heels into the corner.
“Well, I certainly can’t kill fuckin’ bloaks wearing baggy clothes now.”
“But, you can in a three piece suit?” You cocked your eyebrow.
He licked his lips, “As if your dress is a flexible material.” Tangerine said as he pulled his rings off, placing them on the night stand.
“I can say the same for your pants.”
Tangerine wanted to look down but didn’t give into your comment. You place your bag down on the bed, grabbing your silk pajamas nearly folded on top and changed in the bathroom.
“God, just go to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” You somewhat groaned.
You sit on the top of the bed, unfolding the duvet before shoving it off to get underneath them.
Tangerine paused, “What the fuck do you you’re doin’?”
You furrowed your eyebrow, “This thing called going to sleep. Try it sometime, you’d be less grouchy.”
He rolled his eyes, “I know that, smartass, I mean what’re you doin’ in the bed that I’m goin’ to be sleepin’ in too?”
You rolled over, putting your weight on your elbows, “I know you’re dramatic but this takes the cake for top performances.”
He faked a laugh, “If you don’t get your ass out of that bed in two seconds, I’ll throw you in the tub with a pillow.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to. Fine, do it.” You said before laying flat into the mattress, staring straight at the ceiling.
He didn’t care for your equal amount of sarcasm, but he just gave you a cocked eyebrow.
“Okay, fine. I’d rather sleep on the floor anyways.” He said, stretching his arms up and behind his head. Your eyes quickly admired his muscles before turning back.
“Be my guest, princess.” You scoffed, slipping on your pajama shorts, “I’ll enjoy my big comfy bed.”
You pulled the heavy duvet over your waist, curling up with the dense pillow beneath your head. 
Tangerine stood there, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you roll on your side. He tilted his head back before unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it on the desk chair. Although your eyes were closed, his side of the bed sunk in and you tried to hold back your smile at his faded stubbornness.
With your backs facing one another, you two just listened to the silence of the city. It gave you a moment to think of Paris– the last time you were with one another or much rather supposed to be against each other. You were a double agent, not exactly proud of it but you let greed take over your motivated justice. 
Having to scam Lemon and Tangerine wasn’t your finest hour either, you thought about it for months and finally coming face to face with Tangerine (out of the two, he wasn’t the one you would want to bump into again), all the guilt came rushing back like the snap of an elastic band.
– – –
The morning sun runs through the thin silk of the curtains, shining over your bodies in the bed. You wake up to the sound of light snoring, happy that you could sleep through it, and Tangerine in a deep slumber with his arm over the bed. He suddenly looked like innocence, so soft and tender, simply laying there like it was any other day.
You sit up, putting your hair out of your face then head to the bathroom. When you turn the light on, you’re almost surprised to see your reflection. Forgetting about the scar against your cheek, you look more rough around the edges. You sigh as you run your fingers over it, remembering the way Tangerine did last night.
After washing up, you go back out and Tangerine is now standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Your eyes quickly shift up his body, admiring the tattoos in their random places and how the band of his briefs rest on his hips. You sealed your lips from smiling at how sharp his v-line was accompanied by the happy trail disappearing into his pants.
“Sleep good with that stick in your ass?” You retort, passing him.
He rolled his eyes, “...You’re annoying, ya know that?”
“Oh, you’ve made that clear.” You mocked him as you closed the curtains more, “That’s why I love to do it.”
Tangerine flicked on the lamp, giving the room a warm glow.
“Alright, I say we lay low today. Better to be out of sight and–”
You cut him off, “Stuck in this room together?... are you trying to kill me t–”
He then put his hand over your mouth, looking deep into your eyes, “Yes, stuck in this room where we can keep an eye on each other and you can’t screw me over again.”
Your heart stopped for a split second, as if he couldn’t have been more of the controlling one. He took his hand away and you gulped, “Yep. Fine. Fair.”
Tangerine pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek before you go to your bag in the chair that’s pushed in the corner of the room. You slightly bend over to look inside your duffle and his icy eyes can’t help but look up the back of your thighs and straight at your ass and lower back. How he could easily put his hands on your hips and make you hold onto something.
He shook his head, feeling like he was coming down with something to even imagine that thought.
You pulled out an old novel and sat yourself back on the bed, hoping that the hours would pass as you sank further into the broken-in mattress.
Tangerine sat down in the chair nudged into the corner, adjacent from your view, and he pulled out his gun that was conveniently tucked into the back of his pants.
“Are you actually holding me hostage?” You furrowed your brows, but didn’t take your eyes from your sentence.
“Whatever fantasy you’d like you believe.” He trailed, opening his gun and emptying his rounds into his palm.
– – –
Suddenly, you leaped out of a deep sleep. Your book laid open on your stomach while an extra pillow was between your legs. Your eyes fluttered open, thinking the past few days has been a dream, until you noticed Tangerine wasn’t sitting in the chair. You quickly looked around before hearing the bathroom door open and he stepped out, shirtless and in new dark slacks that rested on his hips.
Your mouth became dry. How could you dislike him so much yet here you are, ready to jump his bones as he crossed the room.
“What are you getting dressed for?” You asked, rubbing your eyes.
He half-chuckled at your groggy voice, “I want a drink.”
“Oh, like you’re not just going to abandon me here like I did you?... Where you go, I go.” You warned him.
He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“A bit hypocritical coming from you.”
Tangerine just ignored your smart comment and opened the door, letting you through first before he followed. His eyes, once again, trace your lower back and trailed down your legs. His cheeks flushed pink as he quickly looked away, clearing his throat as he caught up to you so you two were walking side by side.
You pushed the faded down button as you pushed a big breath past your lips. Tangerine put his back against the wall and crossed his arms, his muscles basically restraining in his light button up. As you turned around, you rolled your eyes– but not at him, just at yourself. How could you have any little feeling for someone who also annoyed you to your core?
He took your silence as a bit of a tease. To be fair, you two didn’t really know one another. You met once before and then you simply betrayed him. Quickly, you were dead to him, but now you’re forced to be together and it raised an important question to himself too. Why was he helping someone who obviously can’t be trusted? 
Tangerine furrowed his eyebrows at that thought, knowing he would have thrown you to the wolves last night after you closed your eyes. He played with his watch a bit before the elevator dinged and caught both of your attentions.
After entering, the low-sounding shifting mechanics of the elevator were the only sounds between you two. You heard Tangerine sniffle, seeing him stretch his neck out of the corner of your eye, but you kept a straight view to the doors. While Tangerine thought you were continuing to give him the silent treatment, you were lost in your own thoughts of the past.
You flashbacked to your last night in Paris together, and remembered how the guilt creeped up on you knowing that, in a few hours, you’d have to betray both Lemon and Tangerine. Before knowing them, you didn’t care, but now that you’ve realized how hard you were falling for Tan, it felt like a double edged sword. If you didn’t do it, maybe you could stay with him– have a life together. But, if you went through with your selfish heist, you’d lose the guy who made you comfortable with being vulnerable after a long time. 
Obviously, you regretted your decision.
“Is this what you want?” You simply asked.
Tangerine quickly turned his head, “What?”
You rolled your eyes before facing his direction, “This.” You gestured between the two of you, “The weird animosity and constantly arguing and nit-picking?”
He never thought you’d be so bold to point it out, “I mean, we don’t like each other. Simple, isn’t it?”
“I guess…” You trailed, facing back toward the doors.
Tangerine licked his lips, wondering if he should utter the words on his tongue.
“...But, that doesn’t mean we can’t start over.”
You looked over your shoulder once more before turning around to him, “You mean that?”
He arched his eyebrow, “Should I regret it now?”
Just as the elevator dinged, the doors slowly opened and the hotel lobby appeared empty. You smirked to yourself, “Why don’t we catch up over that drink, huh?” You sort of teased– not sure if it had purpose.
– – –
Your drink tasted smooth, easily trailing down your throat as you leaned your head back to finish off the rest of the liquor in your glass. Once you tilted your head back straight, you were met with Tangerine’s signature eyebrow arch.
“Don’t worry, I’m paying for my own drinks.” You sighed, placing your glass back down on the wooden table top.
“As long as I don’t got to carry you back up to the room.” He sighed, sounding more defeated than witty, then his blue eyes glanced down then back into your eyes.
You hummed, running your finger along the rim of the empty glass. 
“‘right so, what’ve you been doin’ since we last…” He cleared his throat, “saw one other?”
You crossed your leg over the other, “Not much. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been out for a while. After leaving you guys, I laid low in Tuscany.”
“For how long?”
You shrugged, “Five months? I was on the countryside and I wanted to be alone…” then, you smirked, “I heard that you were in Kyoto.” 
Tangerine could chuckle about it now, “For a bit. Had a job to do for some psychotic, fucked up family. The dad called in us, they were all turin’ on each other. Whole fuckin’ thing…”
“As in…” You trailed, “Against one another? The whole family?”
He just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.
You raised your eyebrows, “Wow… and you got out with no bruises or cuts? Bullet holes?”
Tangerine licked his lips before he presented the side of his neck, lighter skin over his tanner tone to show the scar. You carefully reached out, brushing your fingers against it which made a tingle go up his spine. You sit back down as he turned back in his chair, and he seemed to tense up.
“Amazing you survived it.” You sealed your lips.
He crossed his arms, “I supposed…”
A comfortable silent fell between you, the light, jazz music playing at a low, and Tangerine’s eyes trailed up the side of your bare leg. He didn’t mean to stare this much, but he felt more vulnerable than usual. One thing you knew is that Tangerine was a layered person, you had to take time to get to the center of him and realize he’s not so cold once you get to know him.
“Five months in Tuscany, I bet that was lovely.”
“Not really. I isolated the whole time… I wanted to be by myself, but I felt bad about what happened… what I did in Paris.” You admitted, but didn’t look into his eyes, fearing that he would turn on you in a second.
Tangerine sighed, “You had to do your job, we did ours… that’s ‘bout all that can be said.” 
Assuming from the lack of eye contact and his tone, he seemed hurt too. You could easily let it boost your ego, but, you actually felt a relief. This hatred you’ve held against each other has finally come down and even though it wasn’t actually said, both of you can feel hostility leave the room.
You bit the inside of your cheek, “Remember, we’re starting over. Clean slate. I hope I’m making a good impression so far.” You raised your eyebrows, lifting your glass again just to drink the mixture of watered down liquor. 
He chuckled, “You’re just lovely.”
The comment made your face get hot. You blame the accent and how it can just get under your skin.
“I don’t think you’ve ever called me something so nice.”
Tangerine smirked, “Funny since we’ve just met, darling.”
Darling.
It was the first time you heard it as a term of endearment then pure spite.
You rolled your eyes, but you could humor that Tangerine was going along with it. This new cheeky side of him was something you didn’t think existed– maybe it was the liquor talking, but you hoped it wasn’t just that simple.
“So, what brings you here?” You continued to tease, placing your elbows on the table, “Business… or pleasure?” Your hand laid on top of his, brushing your fingertips along the chunky rings that perfectly fit his fingers.
Multiples thoughts sounded through both your minds.
“Maybe it’s the liquor.” “Maybe we’re a little over our heads.” “Maybe we’re bored.”
But, Tangerine held your hand on top of the table, gently holding it as his thumb grazes over your knuckles.
“Depends…” He trailed, now leaning in too, “What are you here for?”
– – –
In just a few minutes, you two were back in the room you felt trapped in for hours.
Tangerine pressed your back against the wall, a tingle running up your spine from the coolness of the wallpaper. Your lips pressed together over and over, tilting your head before biting his bottom lip. He effortlessly lifted you up with his hand under the back of your thighs, and your ankles meet around his back.
He needed so bad, desperate even… and the feeling was mutual.
He put you down on your feet again, pressing a kiss against your scarred cheek then another on your jaw. His light kisses run down the middle of your breasts as his hand lifted up the end of your skirt. You pushed your hips out as your back was against the wall still, watching him pull down your panties in an instant. You kick them to the side and Tangerine placed your leg over his shoulder, kisses along your inner thigh and your hand ran through the front of his curls.
Suddenly, his tongue ran over your swollen clit before sucking on it. With one hand in his hair, the other caressing your breast and running your thumb over your nipple.
Tangerine panted, moving his hand against your pussy lips. He pushed them apart, showing your tight hole and how you clench around nothing. He lowly groaned, running his fingers over your clit before sliding his two fingers into your pussy. You bite your bottom lip to hold back the moan stuck in your throat, watching him suck your clit and finger you at the same time.
Just as your climax neared, he felt your cunt tighten around his fingers. He couldn’t end it like this so, he took them away. You let your leg down, watching him come back up and tower over you.
“If I’m goin’ to make you cum…” He sighed, “I’m gonna be deep inside you when you fucking crumble.” He said so low before pressing his fingers against your tongue, and you tasted yourself.
You pulled his hand back, running your thumbs over his tattooed hand.
“Not if I make you cum first.” You trailed, moving his hand down so you could kiss him.
He could drop to his knees in an instant, but Tangerine surprisingly kept his composure. 
You smirked as you pushed him toward the bed, the back of his knees hitting it to make him sit down. As you stood in front of him, he leaned on his elbows as he watched your dress drop to the floor. It pooled at your ankles and when his eyes shifted back up, so glossed over, your bare body was the center of his attention.
“Hmm, I don’t think you’ll last.” You taunted.
As much as he could snap back, you straddled him and pulled apart his tightly buttoned shirt. Your hands ran over his toned and tatted chest before reaching down to his pants, unzipping the fly and he shuffled a bit to shift them off his hips. His cock was hard, restrained from his boxers and you felt flattered.
You giggled, leaning forward to share a slow kiss with him. Your bare pussy rubbed against his cock as you moved closer to him. A low groan mumbled between your makeout, and you pushed him back so you two both fell on the bed.
Your hands pressed into each side of the mattress, gaining strength to help yourself grind against his hard. His big hands tightly held your hips as you continued your smooth momentum, whimpering at your clit being rubbed by your harsh grind.
As heat rose in the room, your right hand dipped between the two of you, and ran over his hard cock once more. Tan’s lips now desperately met your jaw before taking a light bite at your neck. The feeling of your hand caressing through his boxers could make him release right there.
Becoming more impatient, you finally pushed your hand into the band of his boxers and he once more moved his hips to shift out of them. 
“Fuck, your cock is so big… can barely hold it with my hand. God, I want you to stretch me out…” You moaned, “Is that okay?”
You purposefully let him believe that he was in charge, and you were falling into the submissive role. Tangerine gained a bit of confidence from your desperate comments, and he sat more up on the bed.
“Fucking christ…” Is all he could say.
He moved the swollen and red tip against your wet slit, also aching and needing your walls to wrap around him now. At first there was pressure, pushing the tip inside your hole then slowly guiding your hips down to completely take in every inch of his cock. 
Once he bottomed out, your body lightly shook as your lips brushed against his. He was fully inside you, the tight and warm feeling making him wither beneath you.
Tangerine moved his hand, kissing your shoulder, “God, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.”
“Don’t stop. Please…” You huffed.
– – –
Then, it was morning. 
The rising sun peaked through the small split of the curtains. As you tried to shift, your body ached throughout every muscle. A small groan left your lips, but you were pulled back by a strong arm wrapped around your waist.
It snapped you back into reality. Last night really happened… and you were okay with that.
Tangerine’s tattooed arm unconsciously tightened around you, holding you close still as he still slept behind you. You barely look over your shoulder and saw his face, his eyes still shut and his curls looked wild.
You faintly smile as you turn around to face him, and that’s what woke him up. He pulled his arms back and rubbed his eyes from the brightness of the sun coming in. You run your finger along a curl on his forehead, pushing it to the top of his head and your heart melted from the sight of those blue eyes.
“Did last night really happen?” You mumbled, but with a faint smile on your lips.
He placed his hand gently on your cheek, caressing his thumb against your jaw. 
“I think the real question is…” He trailed, “Do we stay another night or go back to pretending to not know each other's existences?”
You bit your bottom lip, lightly giggling, “I think we pick secret option three and go somewhere else. Get away for a while… see where this is going. Don’t you?”
Just at that moment, Tangerine’s phone vibrated in his pants that were on the floor next to the bed. He turned over on his other side, reaching down to pull it out and reading a text Lemon just sent.
“Got a call about a job in Budapest. Are you in or overstaying your weekend?”
Tangerine smirked at himself, then felt your lips press against his neck. You placed another kiss on his shoulder, leaving a tender love bite before he turned back around to kiss you. Maybe it was the natural thrill of the chase, but you loved the not knowing. 
Whatever was next, you could only hope that he kept it interesting.
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banquetwriter · 6 days
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pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 crying, major deppression
summary: ʚ you go through a depressive episode and Johnnie helps ɞ
Words: 1777
An: so this was horrible for me to write and I'm so so sorry
Guilt was racking through your body. You don't have any energy left in your body nowadays, it's the reason you haven't posted in almost two months. It's the reason your room and subsequent house are filthy. It's the reason why no matter how hard you try you never ever seem to fit in.
Your cheeks are tear-stained, and you haven’t washed your face in god knows how long. You've showered sure, but you haven't done your proper skincare in weeks.
Your depression has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember. It gets better, sometimes, other times it drains you of everything you have. Every day felt like a battle for you. You sigh looking at your phone it is almost 4 pm.
Your boyfriend, Johnnie, had texted you almost 2 hours ago. The rough nights you experienced led you to wake up late in the afternoon, so the plan usually involved Johnnie heading over whenever you woke up or after he was done filming.
He has wished you a good ‘morning’ and to let him know when he could head over. You wanted to indulge, truly you did, but Johnnie didn't deserve that. He had enough in his life to worry about. There was no need to worry him with your pathetic life.
The issue is you couldn't keep him on the hook like this. You sighed picking up your phone, you numbly typed out a plain excuse, telling him today wouldn't work. You put the phone down and roll over in your bed again.
You sat curled in a little ball staring out your window. There were crows sitting on top of the next-door building. You sat and quietly observed the birds, watching them move side to side. You wish life were that simple, all you had to worry about was eating and flying around.
You didn't have to worry about the eternally crushing depression that sucks your life form. Your face heated up again with the thought of Johnnies, tears pooling in your eyes.
You missed him so much. He was such a caring loving person, it wasn't always easy for him to show that. He had his ways though. Always make sure you eat, get decent sleep, etc.
Your relationship was usually the opposite way, you know just how much he struggled. You were going to be there for absolutely all of it no matter what. Nothing was going to stop you from loving him. He shouldn't have to worry about you.
But he did, it was the reason why when he saw your texting while editing he immediately called you. You were always such a beacon of positivity for him. He knew the signs, from himself and his friends. You had stopped eating unless he forced you to.
You were wearing long sleeves and sweatpants only. You never went out, just stayed in your room. He can't even remember the last time you said more than a few words to him in a single conversation. He placed the phone next to his ear and nervously tapped his foot on the floor of his room.
“Hello?” you answered with a croak. Johnnie never called you unless he really really missed your voice. Which for him was usually the case when it was nighttime. Those were extreme cases, he hated talking on the phone and absolutely despised it. Too many nerves for him.
He didn't speak for a second, half expecting you not to answer for some reason. “Hey,” he starts. You hold your breath for a second knowing what the conversation was about before he even started to speak.
“Can I please come over? I'm worried about you.”Johnnie says over the phone, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. You inhaled with a shaky breath. “You can. It won't be a lot of fun though,” you mumbled back to him fiddling with your piercing.
“Well- when can I come over?” he asked. This awkward tension filled the phone line, the systematic white noise causing your heart to beat heavily. “Whenever you want Johnnie I'm not leaving the house anytime ever,” you reply sarcastically earning an annoyed grunt from Johnnie.
“I can be over soon, I'll let you know when my Uber shows up and I'm on my way ok?” He knew your bad attitude was because of something, and no matter how much it was upsetting him he needed to be here for you.
You on the other hand could cry from guilt. How dare you be a pathetic sack all day, cancel on your boyfriend only for him to kindly offer to be there for you and you are rude to him? On top of that, he has to pay to drive to YOUR house! “No Johnnie don't call an Uber I will come pick you up.” you offered, standing up and searching for your keys.
“I thought you weren't leaving.” he rebutted. You took a deep breath, “but I love you, so I'm not gonna make you pay to cheer me up ok?” you spoke finally finding your keys. “I don't want to stress you out.” you heard over the phone.
You tried to fight his kindness but after a minute it was clear he wasn't going to let you drive. Today was a relaxing day for you, at least it was supposed to be.
You were a protector, it's what made Johnnie fall so in love with you. You were so kind and caring for him, constantly taking care of him when he had those days when he just couldn't take it anymore.
You never did it with the intention to receive it though. So when Johnnie knocked on your door and you trudged to open it for him it shocked you how much he did care.
You tried to make yourself look strong but as your eyes locked tears pooled crowding your vision. You turned away from the door and him as you covered your face with your hands.
You couldn't stop the pull of dread that filled your heart. You felt your knees touch the floor as you collapsed onto the ground. You could hear the door close and Johnnie rushed to your side. He was speaking about something, maybe he was saying how you were going to be ok.
Maybe he was begging you to tell him what was going on. You weren't sure. All you could focus on was ringing in your ears, the thumping of your heart, and the crocodile tears that leaped from your face.
His hands ran against your back and shoulders. Eventually, you were able to look up at him. He wasn't wearing any makeup, just a hat with a button-up and skinny jeans. All you could mutter out was a broken “I'm sorry.”
Your voice cracked and shattered as you spoke. Your boyfriend and the love of your life stared at you back, his face heating up his own tears forming. He sat with you behind your couch on the floor.
“Let's move to the couch,” he said his voice coming out falsely confident, you shook your head, yes taking his hand that helped you up. He wasn't used to helping people like this, he would try his best and maybe give advice.
But he tried to do what you did with him. He sat you down on the couch, taking note of your appearance. You had dulled messy hair, dark almost permanent circles under your eyes, you looked pale and gaunt your face seemingly shrunk.
He rushed away from you, getting you a cup of water, something you did for him without fail. He set it in your hands knowing the coolness would ground you. He moved to your side sitting down next to you. He hesitantly placed his hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat.
It was rapid and intense as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his other arm around you and tilting his head on your shoulder. As you slowly sipped the water between hiccups he felt your heartbeat slow and your breath wasn't so rapid. You were calming down.
Once you finished your cup you set it down and shifted so your head was resting on his almost bare chest. He moved his hat off and sat normally on the couch as you cuddled up to him. He wasn't sure what he should say that could help.
After all, he wasn't very good at this but he so desperately wanted to be. “I don't know when this really started for me. As long as I can remember I was different. Things that seemed so small for other people worried me so much,” you spoke, finally breaking the silence.
He knew some of your past and struggles but nothing too deep. He wanted to hear them from you. This was the best way to do that. He didn't say anything yet, he just looked down and observed you as you played against him.
“I felt this feeling when I was all alone and it was cold and rainy outside. It was almost like a shiver up my spine. I was feeling so safe and protected all alone like that, if I hadn't frozen I could have stayed in the rain forever.” he wasn't sure where exactly your story was going but he knew you and he also knew it was important.
“I was so comfortable with being alone, that stayed with me. There are days more often than not when I cannot do anything. I sit and rot in my bed all day, I don't sleep, I don't eat, I don't do anything.” Johnnie did not know that. He knew since he was busy with filming you often just stayed home.
It doesn't sound like that was a good thing, however. “I am drowning but I've pretended to stay afloat for so long. I'm so fucking tired Johnnie I don't know what I'm going to do anymore.” Your voice was calm but powerful.
You didn't move but you could hear Johnnie's heartbeat increase. “I haven't taken care of myself in so long.” this was whispered, for a second you weren't sure if you had said it out loud. You suppose you did when Johnnie pulled you away from you, your confession hung on the air like wet clothes.
He took a second before he nearly engulfed you with a hug. He squeezed your whole body tight, “Please don't leave.” was all he whispered in your ear. He cradled your body tightly. He slowly started to rock you back and forth. The lull of his body slowly sent you to sleep.
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bsdawgz · 1 month
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「 ✦ Yours ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Atsushi Nakajima
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a/n: took a while but here is the ~atsushi~ counterpart from the soft aku vs. atsushi fic poll. (here is the soft aku fic) i hope you enjoy ♡
genre: f!reader. smut with angst (you cheated on atsushi omg... 🥲). makeup sex.
content warnings: MDNI! possessiveness, unprotected sex + he cums inside (*these are very risky*), overstimulation, general angst, he gets rough at the end (yes ik it was supposed to be a soft fic, but...)
summary: no matter what happens, you'll always run back into the arms of the man who taught you how to love – and he'll run right back to you, too.
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you don't know exactly how you ended up here. come to think of it, though, this is always where you end up – right in front of the ada's dorm at the crack of dawn. once the drunkenness of twilight has settled into a sobered reality, your feet stumble on their own in front of this door, seeking shelter from whatever it was that sent you reeling in the first place. it's been said that night time is the play time for sinners and devils. this past year, you found out that you're no exception to that rule – for here you are as living proof, crawling back in search of forgiveness from the very person you've wronged.
"for atsushi?" a familiar voice calls from behind you before your knuckles rap at the door. you barely heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, but you're not surprised to find that dazai's still up. how appropriate for the two people guilty to both be wide awake at this hour. still, running into him like this sends a shiver up your spine. you freeze in your tracks, half expecting him to discourage you from what you're about to do – but instead he just walks past you without another word, and maybe that's even worse. it's just a reminder that you were nothing to him, and that he's barely had to suffer from the consequences of the night you caught together.
you'd imagine that sleeping with atsushi's girlfriend put a strain on dazai's personal and professional relationship with him, even if it only happened one time. at the end of the day though, dazai was atsushi's superior – and the source of his food and housing – and atsushi had no choice but to accept that reality.
you, on the other hand, were cut out of his life. it had been months of no contact between you and your now ex-boyfriend. all texts were left on seen, every call sent to voicemail. you could even swear that atsushi was avoiding all the spots he used to frequent, just to make sure he didn't run into you by chance. you never thought you'd be a cheater – never, ever in a million years – but here you were, having done that very thing to the person who taught you the meaning of unconditional love.
how could you be so selfish? so thoughtless? stupid, even? you'd take it all back in an instant, but you know can't. your feet are about to move. you're about to turn back. you should... yes, that's exactly what you should do. tonight feels too soon – it's all wrong. running into dazai last minute proves that.
and yet, just as you're about to bolt down the stairs, you hear it – the sound of the door in front of you unlocking. it's like a quiet charm. his voice is like a wish that you whispered under your breath. "it's you..." soft-spoken, just as he always has been, and there he is –
– atsushi nakajima himself.
"do you need something?"
there's no malice in his voice – just the same tenderness that he's always carried with him. something about it in this moment feels heartbreaking. you almost want him to yell at you or scold you, just so you can apologize to him with your whole self, or let him know how much you've regretted that day. instead, he stands there with his arms drooped at his sides, unfeeling. it's cruel, that minute of empty silence. you wonder if he's about to close the door on you. maybe he should. it feels like you're miles apart, and the distance is deafening.
just one second more, you think to yourself. it's selfish, you know. let me memorize what you look like. let me remember how your bangs fall. the color of your eyes.
you open your lips to speak, but it's your feet that move instead. one moment you're in front of him, but then you blink, and you're closing the distance between you – you're sobbing on his shoulder, your arms around his neck. silence, save for the sound of your stifled cries against his now-stained sweater.
he wants to push you away, but he doesn't. his arms wrap around your waist instead. the feeling of your body, pressed tight to his, is all too familiar. you're warm, and you smell so nice. it's that same shampoo you've always used, the one he likes on you. you're pretty today, hair falling into place like this. you're just as he remembers. this is his favorite knit on you – you look just as lovely as you did yesterday.
he says nothing, stunned. what is there to say in a situation like this? all he can do is cling to you, hope you don’t let go of him the way you did many nights before… that you don’t tire of him, toss him aside like you did that night. "why didn't you come back sooner–?" there’s a tremble in his voice, and he falls apart. when you meet his gaze, you realize the reason he hasn't pulled away is because there are tears in his liquid eyes. "don't tell me you wanted him instead?" his voice falters. you shake your head wildly, trying to force him to look at you again, but he's pawing your hands away. there’s a pain expression on his face when he finally looks back up at you, wincing. it’s like that of a beaten dog that's come crawling back to its master.
"i thought you hated me..." you confess, words spilling out, "– and you have every right to... it should have only been you.
i only want you."
your words strike him down. his hands are pushing you away at first. at least, that's what he thinks, because every part of him is telling you that's what they should be doing. every part of him is telling him to tell you to get out of his sight, to get out of his life, because he knows it must be wrong to do what he’s about to do. there's a reason that he avoided you in the first place, isn’t there?
but he's past the point of return now – in his heart, he knew this is just how you two would end up.
there's a reason he avoided you in the first place after all, isn't there?
with you in his arms, looking at him the same way you always have, it's no use. guided by sheer instinct, there's no shred of timidness in the fierce way that he grabs at you now. those same hands that pushed you away are now reaching for you, pulling you into his arms with just as much ferocity, eager to hold you again. there's a neediness to the way that he clings to every curve and crevice. you melt into him, and his lips are on yours.
it's been so long – too long. he didn't think your reunion would go like this. at least, he imagined that if it would begin with more talking. with you standing in front of him, though, the memories are all coming back so suddenly –
every laugh, every look;
every argument.
you were his first everything – god, he missed you.
how did he last this long without you?
his hands find your waist first, molding to your form. then, the next thing you know, his hands are on your ass, and he's digging into the fat with his fingertips, and you feel him pin his hips flush against yours as he backs you into the darkness of his room. tonight, it's not enough to just have you – he needs to claim you, all of you.
the door locks behind you, a quiet clinking of metal as atsushi's fingers fumble with the handle, then you feel your back thud loudly against the wall that you know is shared with dazai's room. you gasp quietly as teeth skim your neck, his lips latching onto the tender skin between your collarbone and shoulder. then, you feel his hands grasping you clumsily as he undresses you hastily, desperate to cover every inch that he's touched, to erase every memory of him that might be left.
"am i... being too rough?" he asks concernedly as he helps you out of your cardigan, discarding it on the floor. his voice is a heated whisper in your ear. "it's okay?"
groping him through his pants, you hear his breath grow shallow, watch as he swallows his own spit, his iridescent eyes following you closely as you trace his outline. his breath is ragged, hungry. he lowers his hands from you – lowers all of his defenses – and you sink to your knees, your hands caressing him everywhere, your lips tracing the lean muscle of his body, your mouth re-mapping his skin into your memory... as if you could ever forget what atsushi, of all people, feel like, when he's the very person who taught you what it meant to truly love someone.
your fingers hooking on the waistband of his pajamas, you tug them down his legs along with his boxers, then take his length into your hands. he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, holding your gaze as you stroke him once from base to tip, enamored completely by the way you look right now on your knees for him – how long has it been since you've touched him like this? he's ashamed to admit that he's thought about this day more than once, now forced to spend an awful amount of time reflecting on how different his calloused hand feels from yours when he's touching himself at night, alone. now, here you are right in front of him, your palm wrapped around him so perfectly. it feels like a fantasy.
you're kissing it, lips pressed to the pretty tip as you bat your eyes at him. atsushi's barely had the time to process that you're here, and now you're flicking away the beads of pearlescent precum with your soft, wet tongue – and god, it feels so heavenly to have you like this. he reaches for you mindlessly, petting your hair, then he lets out these beautifully soft, whimpered moans as you suck on him – a breathless "oh my god..." rolling off of his lips when you finally take all of him into your mouth. "feels... so good..."
then suddenly, you hear him curse under his breath, tossing his head backward when you feel him abruptly hit the back of your throat, hips thrusting forward –
"– ah, god... fuck..." – before he quickly shoves his hand against his mouth in complete embarrassment, face flushing bright pink as he stammers out a quick apology and steadies himself. it's the first time you've ever heard him say something like that during such an intimate act. you stare at him wide-eyed, shocked, but he's avoiding looking at you now, blushing to himself and watching you through his fingers as he pants quietly into the palm of his hands.
then, "kiss me – please." it's a simple request, but it's full of urgency. god, how he's missed you. he cups your cheeks in his hands and brings your lips to his. it's a passionate kiss, sloppy and wet, the type of kiss that has teeth clumsily collide and noses briefly bump against each other. you feel his hand grasp your thigh. he wraps it around his waist, then suddenly his fingers are seeking you through your cotton panties. he pushes the fabric to the side, then you gasp aloud as you feel those slender fingers of his thrust so deep inside of you. it feels dirty – too dirty, even. different, at the very least. the two of you have only ever made love before, and now he's fucking you with his fingers.
"does it feel good?" his voice is a low whisper in your ear. you can feel his hot breath on your neck, his tongue teasing your earlobe, as he slides his fingers in and out of you, collecting your sticky arousal on his fingertips. you moan as you feel his thumb find your clit, making slow, steady circles, then you pull back from the kiss to look at him, just to see the face he might be making at you. he's gazing at you with these half-lidded, lustful eyes that are just desperate to hear your praise. though inexperienced, atsushi's always been an attentive lover, keen to your every sound and movement. as his first, you taught him everything he knows – and as such, you've taught him exactly how to pleasure you. drawing his name from your sweet lips comes all too easily.
he's greedy with his fingers, eager to taste you on his tongue, and you watch him as he licks you off his fingers and kisses you again and again like it's never enough. he's even greedier with his words, eyes glinting with satisfaction after you cum on his fingertips, crying out for him.
"i can make you feel better than he can," he coos into your neck as you convulse in his arms. "i'll make you feel so good."
atsushi's never thought of himself as a possessive man, but things certainly change when someone takes away what's rightfully his. now, with you singing his praises, he can't help but want more. fingertips burrowing into your hips, he bends you over his desk and you hear him ask,
"can i put it in just like this?"
your eyes widen –
of all the things he could have said, you'd never expect this – and from atsushi, of all people. "raw?" you stutter out in disbelief, and he nods at you unflinchingly, continuing to pamper you with his affection, hands reaching for your breasts, shaping and squeezing them around his palms. "it's risky..." your voice trails on the last syllable, words subsiding into a soft moan as you feel his finger traces around your nipple before he claims them with his tongue. you push the messy bangs out of his forehead to read his expression, but there's not an ounce of hesitation on his face.
– "i know that."
you're trying to think straight, but you can't. all you can think about is how intensely hot your body feels right now, and what it might feel like to have him fuck you until you've been completely forgiven. slipping your soiled panties down your legs, you nod at him to continue. "yes, i want it," you whisper desperately, and you're surprised when your voice comes out like a whine as you ease your thighs apart for him. "put it in… please –"
he nods, then reaches for himself. he's as gentle as he always has been with you – perhaps even more so tonight as he presses fleeting kisses to your hair and murmurs reassurances into your shoulder that he's about to put it inside. his lips are soft against your neck and spine.
you moan as as he slips the blunt head inside your wet, waiting entrance. he’s careful not to hurt you, guiding it slowly. it’s perfect. how long has it been since you've felt this – since you've felt him touching you like this? so loving. so right. you sigh into his touch, listen to the sound of his sharp inhale and feel him nearly collapse into your back once he bottoms out inside you.
he's amazed by the feeling of your bareness against him and the way your slickness squeezes around him. he pauses, then glances down. oh, wow – the sight of himself disappearing inside of you is enough to drive him wild. you're so warm and wet. kunikida was wrong when he said sex without a condom feels the same as sex with a condom. he must have been lying just to keep him safe when he first started having sex because this feels a thousand times better – he can feel everything like this, all of you. every ridge, every pulse, the very ache that’s throbbing inside of you. you're gripping him so perfectly. he needs it so badly… needs you so badly.
"mm, it's so good..." he groans, pressing his lips to your neck. then, you feel him start to move from behind you, hear the quiet sound of his skin hitting yours as he brings your hips back against him, nice and slow. the room is silence save for the sound of your breath becoming shallow as his pace quickens. his fingers seek you again between the thighs, and you shudder forward, burying your face into the wood of the table as you gasp. "does it feel good for you too?" his voice is a low whisper in your ear. "yeah?"
you whimper out your approvals, feeling his thumb pressing on your clit again. you're so sensitive from your last high that you cry out, sobbing as you beg for more. he pins your wrists behind your back, pushing you into his desk, and you feel him reach you at an angle you've never felt him before. he's so rough tonight – but it feels so good.
"h-harder–" you stammer out, and you feel him shove your face against the desk as he thrusts faster. "i need you so bad." you're liquid in his hands and you melt as you moan out his name, tthe syllables are sloppy on your tongue, spilling from your lips like water as you cum from his fingers again.
"a... tsu.. shi... please. atsushi..."
yes, say it just like that – atsushi, atsushi. atsushi.
then, "where do you want it?"
– "inside me."
you feel his fingers tip your chin toward him, then his eyes are on you.
there's not an ounce of malice behind those iridescent eyes as he bats his eyelashes at you – just the same tenderness that he's always carried with him.
"watch me cum for you."
there's a steadiness to his voice, an unwavering certainty as he captures his lips in yours and leaves you breathless. "you're mine. don’t ever leave me again.”
then, you feel it: his cum leaking down your thighs.
warm and white, trickling down your legs.
you'll take all of it, all of him.
"i'm yours, atsushi. yours… yours."
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author ps: yes it has similar themes to the aku x reader one yes i am a sskk shipper on the side
© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!
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sunnynwanda · 3 months
Text
Hellbent
Warning: descriptions of torture and past trauma, blood, gore, drugging, whipping/ flogging, drowning, suffocation, murder, death. Please do not interact if any of those might be triggering for you. Certain scenes were inspired by "Deadly Class" (TV series), so it really is rough. Let me know if I missed anything.
Triumphant music pierces through the chill air, reaching their frozen ears. The roof is cold and windy, but it's the best position for what they have in mind. Villain perks up, adjusting the binoculars and zooming on the stage. Hero is to award a dickhead with the Best Dickhead of the Month Award, alternatively known as the Philanthropist of the Month. It's an award that is nothing but an ego boost and a way of sucking on the boot of the richer. The man who steps on the stage is no good, and Villain is not the only one who knows that. The whole event is nothing but a farce. Stealing a bunch and then donating barely even half of it for charity was a known method of avoiding legal responsibility while simultaneously getting praised on every corner.
The audience starts clapping and cheering, drawing Villain's attention back to the case at hand. They pick up their gun, aiming it at the dickhead's neck when Hero steps in front of him to shake hands, all the while blocking access. They move seconds later, and Villain uses the moment to shoot truth serum into the man's neck. Needless to say, his speech ended up being not what everyone expected. He gloats about his wealth, mocking everyone in attendance and the higher officials, not quite understanding why the words leave his mouth against his will.
The mayor gets on the stage, attempting to shut the man up and berating Hero for not reacting in due time. Hero does not reply, instead turning around to look precisely in Villain's direction with a stern expression. They don't say anything or move until the speaker is tackled and removed from the stage - thus, the event comes to an abrupt break.
With their position revealed - Villain moves, rushing to pack their stuff and escape the roof before Hero arrives. They are exhilarated by the success of the operation, which leads them to underestimate Hero's speed. They are met at the bottom of the staircase by a hand that stretches out of the corner. They collide with it at full speed, knocking the air out of their lungs.
Hero is seething. Villain knows how to put up a fight, but today seems more difficult than usual. They blame it on the suddenness of the attack and Hero being more unhinged than usual. They've never seen their enemy this aggravated. They are smacked against the ground, and before they can perceive what's happening, Hero is on top of them, gripping their throat as they inject something into Villain's neck. "What the fuck is that?"
Hero's smile is all teeth as they hold Villain down, waiting for the drugs to take effect. "You're becoming predictable."
Villain gapes at them, stunned at the realisation that the whole thing was a set-up. To get them. And they fell for the trap without so much as a thought. Their vision becomes blurry, Hero's face distorting into a flesh-coloured blob. Then, they are consumed by pitch-black shadows.
It's still dark in front of their eyes when Villain's senses return to them. They hear nothing but water dripping to their right and their own laboured breathing. They feel their pulse throbbing in their temples and attempt to look up despite the dull ache spreading from the back of their head down their spine. They soon discover that their arms are tied to the armrests of their chair with their palms up.
Villain blinks, struggling to pry their eyes open. There's no one in the room yet. They take a deep breath to steady their heartbeat and focus. They must be in the Hero headquarters, meaning their interrogators will arrive soon. Their eyes search the room, locating the security camera in the corner and waving at whoever is watching them. They are - by no means - confident, but Hero and their team have no business knowing that.
Several minutes later, the door screeches open, allowing Hero in. Villain throws their head back in an attempt to look unbothered. As if they are exactly where they had meant to be.
"Acting brave, are we?" Hero muses, not wasting any time when they pull out a leather belt, flogging Villain's palm. Villain groans, shutting their eyes for a moment before they fling open. Hero smacks them across the face, then whips their hands again. "Keep your eyes on me."
Villain makes it a point to look away, which earns them another slap against their cheek, this time with the belt. They feel blood fill their mouth, coating their lips upon contact with leather. They spit it to the ground, muttering under their nose when Hero lashes their palms again. Villain fails to keep their voice down this time, cursing out loud. "Motherfucker!"
Hero smiles at that, satisfied with the reaction. "Now we're talking. Tell me who you're working for."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Villain speaks through gritted teeth to keep in the whimpers that threaten to spill from their bloody lips.
"I see," Hero nods, seemingly taking the answer. "We have all the time in the world. You can scream all you want - no one will hear you. My team is guarding the event, and I get to play with you."
Hero continues their torture for what feels like hours. Villain has lost track of time somewhere between getting their thighs whipped into a bloody mess of fabric and open flesh and their mouth being taped closed as Hero carved a neat line across their eyebrow down to their cheek, careful to avoid the eye.
What came after was worse. 
Their lungs ache as their head is submerged into a water tank for god knows what time. Their hands flex, sending jolts of pain through their damaged fingers, but they can't move away, tied securely in place as Hero holds the back of their head.
Villain is about to black out when Hero grips their wet hair, twisting their fingers around the strands and tugging their head out of the pink-tinted water. "Are you going to tell me who you're working for now?"
Villain inhales sharply, water dripping out of their nose as they attempt to get in as much oxygen as possible. Their ears are ringing, their heart beating in their throat, but they hear Hero's question clear as day. "I do this alone."
"Bullshit," Hero cuts their answer short. "Who's your boss?"
"No one, I swear," Villain pants through the sentence, conscious to speak for as long as they can, to keep their head out of the water. "Even if you kill me, the answer's not gonna change."
"Oh, I won't kill you," Hero murmurs, slamming Villain's head against the back of the chair and detangling their fingers from their hair. They move the water tank to the side and turn Villain's chair around to face the screen behind them. "I can do much worse than that."
They press a button, and the screen buzzes to life, illuminating the room in warm hues. Villain's breath catches in their throat when their father's smiling face appears on the screen. Their lips barely move when they whisper. "Where did you get this?"
They freeze in anguish, unable to tear their eyes away from the video of their parents in a park, filming each other as they laugh at Villain's silly antics. They watch their eight-year-old self playing with soap bubbles. They shriek and giggle when their father picks them up, placing them on his shoulders, then their mother's laughter floods their ears, filling their eyes with unconscious tears.
"I know you lost them," Hero whispers, placing their heavy hand on their shoulder from behind. Villain catches a glimpse of the belt as it slings over their other shoulder. "It's a tragedy. A senseless tragedy."
Villain hears no compassion in their voice. A tear drips down Villain's cheek, and Hero's calloused finger wipes it away.
"It's life," Villain mutters, shaky as they turn from the screen. They almost lean into Hero's touch but come to their senses, fisting their hands so the pain can remind them where they are. "It's never fair."
"Yes, but the way they went was so brutal," Hero chimes in with diabolical pleasure. They grip Villain's head, forcing them to face the screen again and snarl. "Watch."
Pictures from the crime scene start flashing in front of Villain's eyes. Their father's body is tied to a chair, ropes cutting into his ripped skin from struggling when he was forced to watch his pregnant wife bleed out before they slit his throat open.
"No," Villain lets out a guttural growl, like a wounded animal thrashing in their chains, but Hero's hands are firm around their head. "No!" They shake in their chair, unable to contain the pain and rage fighting for dominance inside them. "You fucking bastard... No!"
"Watch!" Hero orders, pressing their wet lips to the shell of Villain's ear with a sinister smile full of satisfaction when Villain shudders at the contact. The leather belt falls from their shoulder into their lap. "They took them away from you to use you how they want. Your brother would be ten by now. Older than you were back then. They took him away from you. And yet you're covering for them?"
Tears stream freely down Villain's contorted face, dripping from their chin into their lap. The salt stings their open wounds, but they can't feel it. Their lips tremble, yet no sound escapes them when Hero caresses their face, running their thumb over Villain's bloodstained cheekbone in slow circles, too caught up in their act to take notice of the subtle movements of their captive's hands. Villain exhales, pressing their thumb against the wood of their chair and dislocating it so they can slip their blood-soaked hand free. They pull the same with their other hand before putting the joints back into the correct position - the pain serves a welcomed distraction.
"Tell me who they are. Tell me so I can help you avenge your family," Hero coos, still hugging Villain's head so they won't look away from the gory scene that never truly left their mind from the moment they stepped into their living room, having come from school to discover their entire family massacred.
"You want to know who did that?" Villain's voice is hardly above a whisper when they speak. Hero nods, blissfully oblivious to Villain's now free hands twisting their belt around their knuckles until it's tight. "Your father."
Before Hero can even process the words, the belt is wrapped around their neck, suffocating them. Villain drags them down to the ground, wrapping their legs around Hero's torso from behind to hold them down as they tighten their grip on the belt, choking the air out of their lungs.
"He wanted to take me and train me to be one of you. A hero. My parents said no. He though it was rude. That fucking animal!" Villain hisses. Hero wheezes, desperately clutching the belt around their neck. "I stuffed a mini grenade into his mouth and blew the bastard's throat open."
They lower their head to Hero's ear and bring their legs up to restrain their flailing arms. Hero's movements grow slower and weaker with every passing second. "But you knew that. You watched him squeal like a pig trying to pry the tape off his face. Yeah, I did that. He underestimated me."
"So did you." Villain jerks Hero's head to the side, snapping their neck, their body going limp on top of them. With a heavy sigh, they throw their head back, then push Hero's dead body off of them, rolling over and lifting themself to their knees.
Villain scrambles to their feet and glances back at Hero's lifeless body one last time. They have less than ten minutes to escape the facility, and even then, they won't manage to leave the city. But that was never part of the plan. Not until they've finished exacting their revenge. Not until the mayor chokes out a last breath under their fingers. Not until Villain gets to enjoy blood vessels exploding in their eyes. Not until they know Villain's agony. Not until their family may rest in peace.
Masterlist
Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode
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urf1lterr · 1 year
Text
lovesick | pedro pascal [4]
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"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."
previous chapter: [3] series masterlist
summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.
pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader
genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually
word count: 10.6k
status: in progress
author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.
"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."
"We had to do that everyday for our last job."
"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."
"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."
"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.
Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.
And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.
But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.
Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.
How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.
The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?
No, that would've been Joon.
Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?
He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:
LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later
That later still hasn't arrived.
Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.
Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.
It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.
"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."
"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."
"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."
"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."
People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.
If they have a problem with that they can sue you.
"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"
"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."
Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."
Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.
Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.
Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.
"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"
"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."
Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.
Ice Skate.
Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?
Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.
"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."
"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.
After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.
If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.
"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.
"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.
Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.
"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"
Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."
Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.
"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."
"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.
One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.
Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.
"Why would you do that?!"
"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."
"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.
Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.
"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.
"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."
"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.
Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.
Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.
"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.
"I always wanted to try."
Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.
Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.
There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.
But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.
"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."
Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.
He did have a point.
"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."
"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.
"No."
Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.
"What would Matt Healy do?"
Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.
Only Pedro used that line on you.
And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.
He wasn't him to be saying it.
"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.
"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."
Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.
Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.
"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."
Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.
Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.
"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.
He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.
"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.
Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"
"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.
He was not going to desert you now.
"What are you girls doing here?"
Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.
"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.
Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"
Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."
Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.
You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."
Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.
Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.
Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?
"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.
"I can just take it with the three of you."
"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."
Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."
Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.
Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.
Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."
You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.
He was shy.
Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."
Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.
"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.
Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.
"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"
Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."
Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.
You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.
"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.
Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.
Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.
"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"
"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.
"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.
He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"
Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."
Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."
Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.
Again, he was being shy.
"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."
Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."
Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"
Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"
"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.
"You kneed her?!"
"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."
"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.
Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."
"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."
"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."
Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.
After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.
To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.
No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.
That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.
"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"
Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.
We all have done it once in our lives.
Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.
Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.
Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.
The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.
Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.
But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.
Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.
Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.
After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.
With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"
"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."
You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.
Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"
Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"
It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.
"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"
Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.
He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.
You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?
"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.
It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.
"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.
Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."
Honey.
No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.
Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.
Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.
"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."
Why the fuck would you slip that out.
"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.
Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.
Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.
Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."
Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"
Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"
"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."
Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"
Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."
Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.
Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."
Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"
Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"
You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.
"With you there's always a reason."
Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."
Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.
"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"
"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.
"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.
After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."
The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.
What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.
As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.
It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.
"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."
She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."
Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.
Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.
Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.
What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.
Oh no, you truly were screwed.
Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."
"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."
You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.
And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.
You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.
Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?
Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.
Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.
"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.
Good, be straightforward.
Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.
Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."
You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.
"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."
"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.
He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.
You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.
"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."
Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.
"What?" he curiously glances down at you.
"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."
Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.
Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.
And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.
Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.
Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.
Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."
And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."
But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.
You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.
Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.
"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.
And handsome on top of you.
Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.
"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.
Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.
"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."
"And I'm tired, deal with it."
Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.
"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"
"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.
You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.
If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.
Doesn't mean you had to talk though.
Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.
Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.
Literally nothing.
And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.
"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"
Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.
Joon would really love this.
Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."
As if that would make you stop your scheme.
Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.
Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.
You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.
"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.
You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.
"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.
Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.
And sadly, he was slowly giving up.
"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."
But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.
Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.
His hand was huge.
"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."
Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.
"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.
He's so warm.
Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"
He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."
You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"
"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.
"And fries?"
Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."
Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"
"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"
With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.
"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.
If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.
"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.
"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."
Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."
Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?
"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"
"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."
Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."
"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."
Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"
"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."
Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.
Shame on you for loving food so much.
Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.
Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.
Or the ducks.
Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.
"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."
Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"
He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"
"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"
"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."
"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.
"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"
"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.
Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"
Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.
Especially thick Mexican ones.
"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."
"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.
"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.
"You mean a veterarian."
Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."
Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.
However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"
Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."
"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"
"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.
Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."
Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.
"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"
Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.
The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.
He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.
"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"
He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.
And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.
Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.
"You did that on purpose!"
Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."
Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"
Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."
Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."
Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"
Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."
"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.
You were wrong, again.
Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.
Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.
He sure has one strong grip.
Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.
Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.
Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"
"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.
Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."
Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.
"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.
"I don't think that's how it works."
Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."
"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."
Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.
Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."
Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."
That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!
Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.
Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.
He has really pretty eyes.
"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."
Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."
"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.
Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"
Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"
"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.
"You're worse than me!"
"My car, my rules."
Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."
His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"
Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."
Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."
"It could be a he," you snap back.
He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.
You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.
"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.
He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .
"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.
Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.
Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."
Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.
Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.
Here goes nothing.
"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"
Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"
Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"
"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"
"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."
"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.
Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.
"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.
"Then why?"
He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."
Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"
Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."
"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"
"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."
Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."
This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?
It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.
"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"
"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.
Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.
"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."
Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."
That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.
You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.
"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"
Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.
This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.
Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.
"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.
Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.
The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.
Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."
"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.
"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."
He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."
Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.
"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.
Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.
It seemed like both of you were screwed.
+
taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats @avengersheart @fafik7  @chimchimjiminie16 @adriennemichelle98
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tatasoom · 4 months
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PREVIEW... DO WE STILL NEED IT?..
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Last episode with that emotional rollercoaster was just what I needed to become silent for almost all next week. I was ready for the next stage of this story and of course I'm gonna tell you why👇, but... we aren't ready every week I guess.
I've already mentioned P'Aof is going to ruin our expectations for beach trip (but I didn't think he would give us that emotional damage even before the trip). Here you can see Day struggling with his eyesight in the upcoming episode 8:
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And we can recall his words from the episode 2:
- Give me your eyes and take everything I have. Do you dare? People keep saying they understand. But in the end, you will never ever get how it feels to look in the mirror and can't see your old self.
Now almost half a year later Day looks in the mirror and can't see even what he had left from his old self. And what about Mhok now? Will he ever be able to say that he understands?
The mirror with no image is still there for Day. As sea, sky and wind are the same. And yet he has this Songkhla City moments he couldn't imagine six months ago!
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I'm so obsessed with this scene and all the details we can imagine through it.
Wet slippery t-shirts, rough sand on the hands, salty water in the hair. Soft lips touching each other in a pure act of love.
I need P'Aof to stop pretending Day and Mhok are kids or viewers are kids and give us real scenes from such a wonderful trip if you know what I mean haha
And I know it's P'On and P'Pla having their wedding, but don't you think Day and Mhok look like they have their own small wedding moments?
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I'm also here to tell you that in the background of that dancing scene we can see two mature ladies waltzing! Thank you!
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We also need to appreciate Mhok's hands on Day's back. There's something intimate in a way he does this.
Here's some BTS pics as well!
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Let me finish this small episode 8 preview analysis here and continue my thoughts in the second part of today's posting!
Thank you!
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aratakiiz · 7 months
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﹏ ❛ laced with love, intensive grooving.⠀⠀⠀cardinal copia/papa iv
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˖⁺ ⊹୨ ★ the one where you finally get to paint his face.
content disclaimers ╱╱ gn!reader. post!anointment. pure fluff. lovesick!copia. making out. wc: 476.
YOU HAVE (1) MESSAGE UNREAD !⠀⠀—⠀⠀“my first ever flufftober post and i decided to make it about one of my comfort characters. i'll try to release smth every weekend at least. i haven't written in like 5 months so hopefully this makes up for it 👉🏾👈🏾”
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"COCO, PLEASE STAY STILL," You demanded as you straddled Copia's hips, cradling his face as you tried to pull off his iconic skeletal makeup. "I don't wanna poke your eye." Copia looked at you, smiling as he chuckled at your intense state of focus. You asked him for an opportunity to do his facepaint, wondering how it would look were you given a chance to do his facepaint. He declined at first but slowly gave in after endless begging on your part. "Are you done yet?" The anti-pope whined out, a somewhat thick Italian accent overshadowing his words. His lips pouted as you told him once again to stop fidgeting. "No, now stop moving around."
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀You tried your hardest to keep a straight face, but seeing your scary-looking partner looking at you with such attentivity threatened to break you. "You should ask your makeup assistant to start doing graphic liner." you suggested, outlining his eyes. "It'd make your eyes stand out." The cardinal blushed at the sudden compliment, his dichromatic eyes widening.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The experience ended after nearly an hour, smirking at yourself as you mentally pat yourself on the back. "Done!" you declared with glee, gesturing for him to look in the mirror. "It might not look all that great, to be honest, but I tried." you sheepishly admitted, his amazement going unnoticed. "I love it." He whispered, his mouth ajar in awe.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"Y-you do?" you stammered. He nodded. No matter how many praises he had, it wouldn't do your skills any justice. The end product wasn't all that bad. It looked a lot better than he expected. The white face paint sat perfectly on his face, the black jester-like eyeliner bringing his eyes out. The makeup sat perfectly on his face. "I do. You did very well." He complimented. Now, it was your turn to get flustered.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"O-Of course, I am!" you coughed out, still processing his praise. "Does this mean I can start doing your makeup now?" you hopefully asked, eyes twinkling. The poor man couldn't help but smile at you, overjoyed that his significant other was passionate about their hobbies.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀"I-I guess so." he stuttered, startled by your squeals of joy. You jumped around like a child, rambling on and on about different things you wanted to try on his face. Slightly off put by your ranting, he grabbed your face and pressed a searing kiss to your lips, pulling away after a few seconds. "You talk too much, my love." He said, the huskiness of his voice making you feel hot. You soon returned the favour, pressing multiple kisses to his face, ignoring his complaints of annoyance at how you were dirtying your face.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Man, did the both of you have a good excuse for why Copia's face was smeared. The ghouls were never gonna let you hear the end of it otherwise.
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DEMI'S POST-IT⠀❞⠀i wrote this like 2-3 days ago while listening to faerie soiree hence the name lmao. this is prob rlly rough on the edges (i haven't written JACK in like nearly half a year work w me here) but im kinda proud of it so happy october ig?
template by @tinytowns! taglist: @ue-projectz
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ryutarotakedown · 6 months
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(i'm cross-posting my yuri shipping olympics pieces from dreamwidth so. have a susahao modern AU in these trying times?)
Prompt (from @transathenacykes): The dramatic de-masking of a superhero, and their loved one finding out who they are.
Haori hesitated, hovering above the other person's face. "I… Ryutaro, I'd like to take your mask off. To treat the burn wounds."
She'd expected resistance, expected words of protest. Most superheroes she'd treated had come around in the end, and the ones who didn't she acquiesced to. Haori firmly believed that all medical assistance had to be done with consent, after all. It would be fine if Ryutaro insisted on keeping his mask.
She didn't expect Ryutaro to make a sound like he was wounded. On the examination table he curled in on himself, turning away from Haori, as though her words had burned him more than the fire he'd run into.
"It's fine if you don't want to," Haori placated, "I understand—"
Ryutaro shook his head quickly. "That's not it." And oh — they were the first words he'd spoken since Haori had dragged him to her makeshift clinic, silent and trembling. Ryutaro didn't have his usual voice, Haori realized. He had a higher register, a more lilting way of speech, that she could detect even under the layers of rough disuse. He must have been disguising it with that vocal technology that had fallen off during the rescue.
It was a familiar voice. Someone she'd heard on the news? No, that didn't seem right…
"I need you to not — you can't be scared off, okay, Haori?" Was that fear? But why would a hero of Japan be afraid of some medical intern? "Please," Ryutaro said. "Don't — you have to promise."
"I promise," Haori said immediately. This had happened before, after all. Some vigilantes were ashamed of their true face, whether because of some perceived flaw with their appearance or because their everyday identity was well-known for other reasons. Haori was fairly good at keeping calm even in the most extreme scenarios by now.
But none of them had said her name like that. Like they… knew her somehow…
Wait.
"You're," Haori started, before falling silent as Ryutaro reached up to unclasp his mask —
And then there he was. There she was, staring back at her with those infinitely dark, familiar eyes.
Susato Mikotoba.
Her best friend.
"Su," Haori breathed.
Susato winced. That piercing gaze of hers fell from Haori's face to the floor. "I'm sorry for not telling you."
Haori’s mind was rapidly running through every time she had met Ryutaro. The hospital attack two months ago — pushing her into a supply closet and telling her to stay there, Murasame-san, don’t move before slipping back out into the fray. Later she would read about it in the newspaper — the first reported sighting of a new superhero, a silhouette wrapped in the classic Yuumei University cape who moved faster than a bolt of lightning, leaving his enemies unconscious with an impossibly fluid suplexing move. The media called it a Ryutaro Takedown.
And then the beach. That improbably swan-headed sea monster rising from the depths and fixing its gaze on her and Dr. Mikotoba, and she had frozen for half a second before Ryutaro was shoving them both out of the way. "Hao—Murasame-san, why are you here?" he'd said into her ear, a whisper that almost verged on panic.
"I, I thought Ms. Brett might have been up to something," she'd whispered back, watching in awe as electricity started to course on the surface of Ryutaro's gloves. He must have upgraded his suit in the time after the last attack…
Ryutaro sighed. "It looks like you were right. Don't let her see you, okay?" And before Haori could reply he was off, and soon the swan monster had been bound in a net and handed off to the authorities, and Ryutaro was gone.
The attacks had been growing in frequency lately, despite Minister Jigoku's reassurances. Haori didn't know how many times she'd seen a familiar silhouette darting past her in an alleyway and breathed easier. She had always known, somewhere in her irrational romantic heart, that Ryutaro would have her back.
And Susato…
Susato, who had grown more and more distant these past few weeks. Susato, who'd canceled every single movie night Haori tried to schedule, I'm really sorry, Haori-sama, something's come up — by the way, you still have that two-to-five shift at Father's hospital tomorrow, don't you? Susato who just yesterday had been sitting on the edge of Haori's bed and looking out the window while Haori demanded to know who had injured her knee so badly, because if she knew anything about her best friend it was that Su was never careless. Averting her gaze, the same way Ryutaro was doing on the examination table right now.
Because they were the same person.
Oh. Oh.
"I couldn't," Susato was saying, while Haori tried to claw her way out of her own stupor. "It would have put you and Father in danger, I wanted to tell you, Haori, I swear—"
"Susato," said Haori, and put her hand over the knee she knew she'd patched up yesterday. "It's okay."
Susato blinked. "It is?"
Haori fought down the hysterical scream that was building in her throat. "It's — we can talk about it later — your face, Su, I think you might have third-degree burns—"
Susato actually laughed at that. A short laugh laced with pain, but nonetheless. "I always wished I could have asked you about this mask. It's rather not up to safety regulations, is it?"
"I will make you a new one," Haori said fervently. "It's going to be so gallant and dashing and breathable, you'll sweep people off your feet every time, Su—" A thought occurred to her. "Wait, you're… still okay with me calling you Su, right?"
"Haori, I'll always be okay with you," said Susato, with that straight face she used whenever she delivered something absolutely devastating to Haori's heart.
"I, I, I mean! Would you want me to use, um, he/him for you?" Heat was rising to Haori's face. Now was not the appropriate time to be reminded of her embarrassing pseudo-crush on her best friend, God help her—
"Oh," Susato said in realization. "I, ah, this is not the time I expected to have this conversation — er. She or he are both fine. It's called being bigender, I don't know if you've heard of it…"
Haori hadn't, but that was okay. She would look it up later. "I can alternate if you want?" Relief flooded Susato's face, and he nodded before wincing again — oh God, right, the injuries — Haori took a deep breath. Medical mode time. "Okay, I'm going to get salve. Don't move."
She located the little jar of petroleum jelly quickly and dragged a stool over to the side of the table. "This might hurt," she warned, dipping a fingertip in.
"Can't possibly hurt more," Susato mumbled, before hissing through her teeth as Haori touched her cheek.
Haori went slowly, carefully. Probably more careful than she needed to be, but this was Susato. Haori distinctly remembered having told him yesterday to take it easy on that knee, and today Ryutaro had run directly into a burning building.
God, Haori had been so close to losing her — and she hadn't even realized —
Susato reached and took her hand.
Haori startled, looking down at him. Susato quirked a smile. "It's okay. You don't have to worry about me."
"I do," Haori murmured, focusing harder on applying the jelly. She wasn't sure what she would look like now, if she met Susato's eyes. "I really, really do."
"I'm not going to stop being Ryutaro," Susato said quietly. "It would be — a lot of work."
"Not if it's you," Haori shot back, faster than her brain could warn her not to, and her voice cracked. Oh no, was she going to cry? She was definitely going to later, but not now please not now. "You're my best friend, Su, I don't know what I'd do if I…"
"I know," Susato whispered. Her hand was so cold in Haori's. "I know."
Haori squeezed her eyes shut.
One day she would tell Susato. One day she would confess how beautiful she thought Susato looked lying in the light streaming in from the windows. One day, she would tell Susato everything.
But not today.
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hypocriticaltypwriter · 8 months
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Fankid Ask game for the little vampys🩶
💬: what was your child's first word? was it a nickname for you or your f/o or something entirely different?
🪁: does your child enjoy learning about their parents' hobbies, or do they prefer to find their own?
🍼: what's your child's comfort item and where did it come from? is it a hand-me-down?
🧁: what's your child's favorite thing in the world? what's their least favorite thing?
AAAAAAAA THANKS MJJJJJ :D 💜💜💜💜
WARNING SUPER LONG INFODUMPS BELOW IM SO SORRY I MAKE YOU SIT THROUGH THESE I LOVE YOU FOR IT-
YOU DONT HAVE TO READ THROUGH IT ALL 💀😭💀😭
💬: what was your child's first word? was it a nickname for you or your f/o or something entirely different?
-
David's daughter Anastasia had been super quiet and hadn't made much noise other than a few cooes and squeaks till she was around one or one and a half.
Her first word ever was 'Dav', and she'd crawl or walk around the cave, repeating it until David found her or aided her in what she wanted/needed. Another silly thing is he'd always correct her when she said it, too.
"Dav-id. With 'id' at the end-"
"Dav!"
"Don't interrupt me."
Of course, once she got bigger, it developed into Daddy or Dad. When learning Chrysta's name, it was just an easy 'Mama'.
-
Now Jennifer, Dwayne’s daughter, had a rough time learning the difference between mom and dad. Due to some issues during Jenny's birth, Chrysta was left in some pretty bad shape for a good few months, so Dwayne was around to help more than he was expected to.
So Jennifer had actually started calling Dwayne 'Ma' or 'Mama' when she was becoming vocal. Of course, it didn't bother Chrysta or Dwayne too much, but he'll admit it was kind of embarrassing when he was on the boardwalk and his baby girl had called at him happily 'Mommy!'
"Jenny, it's 'daddy' see? I'm 'daddy.'"
"OK, mama."
"No, Jen -"
-
Paul tried soooo hard to get Tiffany's first word to be 'Papa' or 'Daddy' the poor guy spoon fed her books about it, making sure to linger and explain the specific pages including daddy animals or point out the parental figure considered the dad.
But it seemed no matter how hard he tried. Her words were always 'Mami!' Which soon followed a 'fuck' under Paul's breath.
... He didn't learn his mistake until one night on the boardwalk Tiffany had run a little too fast and dropped the ice cream cone Paul had just bought for her... And she exclaimed very loudly:
"FUG!"
Paul didn't know whether to be laughing or dreading what he had to explain to Chrysta later that night.
"Now Tiff, those are very bad words- and their not nice to use, especially in front of Ma...
But you're aloud to say it one more time for Daddy and his friends."
-
Katherine learned how to say Mama first due to Marko referring to Chrysta with it 24/7. Marko knows its cause he says it every dawn before they go to sleep, but he likes to think it's just imprinted into her little brain due to him always giving Chrysta's tummy two taps of his fingers, and saying 'hey little mama' while she was pregnant with Kat.
Chrysta also thinks it's the most darling thing whenever Marko goes: "Goooood night mama." Soon to be followed by Kats: "Guuuuuu night mama!"
-
Christopers first word was actually one David wasn't happy to hear. At all.
David left him with Marko and Paul for five minutes. Five. And the moment he saw the mischevious smirks from his mates as his son was being handed back to him while gumming down on a cherry lollipop, he already knew they'd done something. And the second he opened his mouth to ask, he heard from his darling baby boy's mouth:
"Bith!"
Oh, sweet heavens above he was going to murder those two.
"Chrissy. I'm Daddy. I'm not your-"
"Bith! Bith, bith, bith-"
*sounds of muffled devastation and full unadulterated rage into his coat sleeve*
🪁: does your child enjoy learning about their parents' hobbies, or do they prefer to find their own?
-
All the girls+ Christopher (once he's old enough) collectively enjoy hunting or going on the boardwalk with their dads and mom. But they do each have their own things they like to do with each parent!
-
Anastasia likes learning to drive David's bike. Spending many late night hours riding around on the beach or through the fog of Hudsons Bluff with David. It's intense and thrilling, but she feels safe on the back or in the front of her dad's bike and has never at all felt like she'd get hurt or be in danger.
It's also nice when he sneaks off to go do it with her and only her - no siblings or mom and dads involved. Just a night between her and her dad for once.
She likes doing her makeup with, for, or getting it done by Chrysta. Since she isn't exactly risking mirror checks by walking into salons or makeup booths, it's nice to be able to keep herself well groomed and spend quality time with Chrysta.
She gets her hair done or nails made pretty, all while telling her mom about a cute boy she saw on the boardwalk she knows if she told David about he'd never get off her case. 🤭
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Jennifer likes making jewelry with Dwayne. He always brings back teeth or cool bones he finds and teaches her how to tie or braid them into necklaces or anklets.
He also likes braiding her hair and putting beads in it- (This kids got his thick hair and Chrysta didn't go through 9 months of heartburn for it to not be taken care of.) teaching Jenny the same while being her personal model to test it on. Even if his hair ends up in knots, he praises her for her hard work. 🙏🥺
Jenny likes stories with Chrysta. She always tells the best ones while she's falling asleep or unable to sleep. In all honesty, she just seems to like Chrysta's voice. If she's being honest, her mama has a calm, lulling hum that makes her feel all cozy and safe.
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Tiffany loves- and I mean LOVES dancing with her Daddy. Paul's always blasting music on his boom box and it's blasting twice as loud when it's just the two of them left in the cave.
Either their thrashing their heads together or jumping around the water fountain screaming along to the heavy metal, or he even plays a few of Tiffs favorites (a few Disney CD specials he stole once 🤫🤫)
But Tiff adores when Paul holds her on his hip and sway along to some slow dance songs, tiring her down after the few songs involving moshing and swinging. Even humming a little to them while doing some twirls just to get her to giggle. 🥺
Tiffany likes quality time with her mama! Maybe for the fact Chrysta can't say no the the perfect little puppy dog eyes she gives but does this girl no how to get spoiled rotten.
She likes being able to go around the boardwalk and walk through stores or booths looking at things, especially anything that sparkles. Chrysta has had to pat down her own child for jewelry snatches sneakily away from booths before.
Now. We all know Marko’s got to know at least a little handiwork when it comes to sewing or stitching. I mean, have you seen this man's jacket? He's bound to teach his offspring a little bit of his magic.
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Katherine enjoys sitting on Marko’s lap as he either works on a new patch in his jacket or fixing up some of her own clothes. It's probably one of the only things she stays completely focused on and stays still,making sure to listen to everything he says.
He let's her take a go a few times- but that only lasts ten seconds before she's crying about poking her fingers or her hands are tangled in thread.
Kat likes dressing up with Chrysta. The two like looking through some old clothes or stolen goodies and putting on their own little fashion shows in the cave.
Since mirrors are a no-go, they like putting on the most flashy or hideous combination you could imagine and trying to make one another laugh.
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Christopher likes learning to fly with David. David is probably the most safest option when it comes to difficult or riskier tasks to learn and he knows it.
Chris struggles getting the hand of it, and sometimes David can't fight the smugness when his son just likes to ride on his back or curl up underneath his buttoned up jacket while hovering around.
You know how mama bats hold their young in their wings when their upside down or something? That's how David holds Chris in his coat LMAO if anyone needed visuals.
Watching movies with Chrysta is one of the things Chris holds dear to his heart. Especially in his younger years when he's still not old enough to join hunting, his mom will happily stay behind and binge some cheesy cheap horror movie or soap opera with him.
I mean, they'll watch anything they can get their hands on, especially knowing they can easily get Max to give up a few VHS with the 'Grandpa' card.
🍼: what's your child's comfort item and where did it come from? is it a hand-me-down?
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Anastasia's sentimental item is a pocket knife her dad used to have all the way back in 1900 when he was a pick-pocketer. It's not in the best shape, obviously, but it's a piece of him back before his immortality, and Annie is extremely intrigued about her father and his mates past.
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Jennifer's comfort item has to be the skirt she seems to wear and never take off. It's sewn with multiple bits and pieces of beaded or detailed fabric her dad can find, and mom can sew. Chrysta could swear that sometimes Jenny purposefully makes tears or holes in the skirt just so Chrysta can add more to it.
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Tiffany probably considers anything she owns as a comfort item - she's kind of a hoarder in the making with her collection of trinkets and jewelry Paul has spoiled her to death with. She does love the red lensed sunglasses passed down from Chrysta to her.
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Katherine's jacket is probably the second thing she loves most in life. The light pink fuzzy thing couldn't be pried of her very body if one tried. Marko bought it for her after he saw the sparkly rhinestones on the front of it that spelled out 'Princess' in cursive. Ever since Marko told her that she's "Daddy's little princess," this kid has a COMPLEX.
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Christopher's a little dude, but he's probably got David's coat promised to him when he's older. If you want to see David turn into a puddle of goo, just watch his son waddle over to him and crawl underneath his coat and snuggle with his dad. Or the times at the boardwalk where he'll play hide and seek with Dwayne and hide underneath it if David's standing around.
🧁: what's your child's favorite thing in the world? what's their least favorite thing?
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As dangerous as it is, Anastasia loves the sunlight. The very thing that could kill her in a matter of painful seconds is the thing she's completely fascinated and intrigued by.
She can't help but feel a bit envious of humans who are able to feel the sun on their skin without agonizing pain to follow. Let a sunrise run up their fingertips without having to pull away. She fantasized about the summer days her mom would tell her about whenever she asked Chrysta what sunshine was like when she was human... Sometimes, she thinks she and her mother have a mutual agreement that they both wish to experience sunshine at least once in their immortality.
Now the thing she hates? David's overprotectiveness. If there's anything she can't stand it's when her dad demands or orders her around- sometimes it feels like she can't go seven feet in front of him without him demanding her to come back and never leave his side for the rest of the night.
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Jennifer's favorite thing is her Daddy's hair. Like I've said and will stand my it RELIGIOUSLY is that Dwayne’s hair is probably the most cared for and well groomed than most of the boys. And Jennifer LOVES to play with it or snuggle with it.
This man is 100% willing to spend hours sitting perfectly still while his daughter covers his head with bows, clips, flower crowns, and the most ghastly knots considered braids. Maybe a few tears of pain are shed when she runs the cheap plastic come through his hair a little too hard, but he's enjoying the time nonetheless.
Jenny DESPISES social interaction with anyone that isn't her pack. She's the shyest thing anyone in the coven has ever seen. Whenever they're on the boardwalk Jenny is hiding behind Dwayne’s legs or her mom's side.
And when she's allowed to split off and go with her sisters, she's following behind Anastasia like a lost puppy, eyes trained to the floor.
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Tiffany's favorite thing is the beach! Paul gives off some very low surfer dude vibes imo,(I mean there's a split shot in the movie where we see some surfboards) but I don't think he does anything extravagant or hardcore- I feel he'd just swim out a a ways with Tiffany on the edge of his board and moonbathe for a little bit, laying on his back with Tiff on top or hanging her legs over the ledge, both taking a little nap.
As much as Tiffany likes the sea and the beach, she hates baths. She's like a feral cat clawing and clinging onto her moms arm to avoid touching the soapy surface of the bath at Max's home.
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Now Katherine's favorite thing? Marko. You know how I said the thing she loves second in her life was her jacket? Marko takes first place. (Sorry Chrysta LOL.)
Kat loves her papa and clings to his very being like a koala. She's always making sure she's the star of his attention whenever he's around. If no one can find Kat, just look on Marko’s back, leg, or arm. She's probably latched herself onto there.
And the thing Kat hates is when Marko has to leave. Whether it be hunting or simply just a boys' night out, she's pouting and asking when he's gonna be back. She thinks any second without her dad is gonna end up with him in danger or hurt. She makes some of the cutest excuses as to why she can't go to bed so she can hopefully stay up till Marko gets back. She's definetly attached to this vampires hip but he isn't complaining. 🤷‍♀️
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Christophers' favorite thing has got to be the boardwalk! The little guys eyes just get all big and excited at all the sparkling, twinkling lights and colorful stands or rides. He even starts to babble or squeal happily whenever the word affiliated with his favorite place is mentioned.
Christopher hates Daddy's vampire face. Like- when David and all the guys get vamped out, Chris'll start crying. It's similar to those videos with babies' reactions when fathers shave their beards for the first time in their lives.
It's worse when David does it on purpose to get a good laugh too, and he isn't doing anything malicious or cruel to scare his son, he's just holding him and this kid will go into hysteric sobs while hiding in David's coat.
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