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daenysthedreamersblog · 4 months

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STRANGERS

Don't talk to strangers or you might fall in love

Freezer bride, your sweet divine

You devour like smoked bovine hide

How funny, I never considered myself tough

summary: you've won the hunger games, and ready to return home in peace, but president snow has other plans for you, and he won't take no for an answer.

pairings: president!coriolanus snow x district6!reader

warnings: MDNI!, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, power imbalance, coercion, heavy drinking, non-con male masturbation, non-con oral sex (m receiving), roses ( pls let me know if i forgot any!)

notes: im new at publishing on tumblr so pls be patient with me! also new at writing in second person POV so sorry for any mistakes! hope u enjoy! there will be more parts coming soon!

Blood splatters onto your face.

"Please," He mouthed underneath you, but the knife was plunging down anyways. You couldn’t hear it.

The crunch of a sternum bone.

Silence. Cold silence rang in your ears and you blinked climbing off of the body a distant boom rupturing around the arena, but you only felt to shake of it, the sudden vibrational change in the air. You looked around the sun blaring down onto you as you turned away from the dead boy, you stumble forward, knee giving out from under you before you collapsed to the ground rolling onto your back staring upward. The blood oozed from the wound on your leg, it stung, it stung harshly, but it was welcomed.

It was over. Everything. It was over and all you were met with was blood stained hands and silence. You could smell the rot forming in your soul.

Boots were pounding into the ground, surrounding you, guns pointing at your body. Hands wrapped around your biceps pulling you, dragging you out of purgatory and into the looming light ahead.

"Congratulations." He whispered placing the small crown on your head, a dainty gold thing, his hands lingering too long on a wisp of your hair. The games had cut off your tongue it seems words never rising to the surface. His hand was under you chin, "Smile. You've won." It felt like a command so the corners of your mouth tugged up as the camera flashed upon you, shaking hands with your esteemed president.

"Thank you." His jaw ticked at your slip, the lack of his title, but he shook your hand anyways as Lucky Flickerman’s crew zoomed in for their close up. The motions were clear, set into place as you read the prepared words off the telecom. If you could get through this then you could return home where it was simple and safe. You would be okay once the Capitol train dropped you off in District 6 where you can happily watch it all disappear forever.

A hand slid to the small of your back, your spine locking up as another photo flashed of the two of you. Your smile stumbled as his shoulder pressed into yours heat pouring off of him where your bodies collided.

You met his eyes, face half turned towards each other, and your cheeks burned with a flush.

The only good thing about winning was finally eating and drinking real food again.

You downed cups and flutes of any alcohol you could find shoved into your hands drowning out the sound of people talking, congratulating you. It was cruel really how when the film of a camera was replaced it sounded like small bones cracking, so your drank more. Why were they so thankful? They arranged for you to be there...they sent you to either die or kill for them. Because some great-great grand-whatever rebelled, so now you had to live with the consequences of someone else actions.

Your brain was beyond heavy, mouth no doubt stained red from the wine. One more day, one more day and you would be going home to die of hopefully natural causes some other time. One more day and you would be out of this hateful city, away from theses entitled, hateful people. You felt it then, the dryness in your throat, the angry water welling in your eyes. You set the empty cup down, stumbling away from the party silent tears beginning to unwarrantedly roll down your cheeks. You gripped the railing as you climbed the stairs towards the mansion doors needing to hide away from the world, and when you reached the top you pushed it open harshly. The heels of your shoes clicked on marble floor in an empty hallway, a door slamming shut behind you as you kept moving. The hallway was spinning like you were stuck in a concrete mixer turning and turning and turning.

You tripped over your foot catching yourself by throwing a hand out to the wall, collapsing onto a small cushioned bench. The groan left your mouth as you slid out of your shoes feet aching, you felt the long gash of the scar the District 2 tribute had given you. It was taking a while to fully close, the wound on you soul would never heal either it seemed.

More tears. More anger.

"You should be celebrating." The cold, calculating voice cut through the air.

You could only roll your head upward, too drunk, too ashamed to be afraid at the surprise. Fresh tears rolled down your cheek. "I did."

Footsteps were coming towards you, slow, like the wolf hunting a doe, and that was when your body alerted, when he had stepped into your space, head snapping towards him. He looked as calm and collected as his tone, a rich black suit fitted to his lean body, a hand lazily in his pocket as his legs bracketed in your knee. "Then why are you in here? I have a whole party out there for you and you hide away in my home.”

"Too noisy." You stared up at him with red rimmed eyes as he towered over, your vision fuzzy at the corners.

His knuckle came up to your cheek collecting the tear freshly traveling down makeup covered skin. "You should be celebrating." He repeated the moisture glistening on his bone. "Not crying."

You sniffed, your voice cracking from crying, "Sorry sir."

"Mr. President." He corrected.

"Sorry, Mr. President sir." You cleared your throat offering him a fake smile.

His hand came under your chin, a pinky resting on your jaw his thumb tracing puffy, wine stained lips, "That's a good girl. Too much wine I suspect hmm?" You only nodded as he held you face, held your life with it too. You might have won his games, but he could still ruin everything, ruin the little family left back home. He had always made that clear to everyone; it wasn’t a shock people started dying soon after they crossed him.

"Yes. Mr. President, sir.” For some reason another tear slipped out with a wide eyed blink.

"You look so pretty when you cry." He traced over your lip one more time gently pushing in until the pad of his thumb pressed against your tongue. You heard the wet noise of his lips parting, as he took a quiet deep breath your teeth grazing his skin. Then he popped it out, bought it to his mouth, sucking gently on your leftover wine. "Come." He wrapped his arm around your bicep pulling you to your feet in front of him. "Let's get you some food, introduce you to some more friends of mine, and then bed." Two hands stroked down your hair holding your head between his palms. "How does that sounds my little victor?"

A dark gaze lingered in his eyes that there was no way around what he wanted, no telling him no. So you let him bend down and slip your shoes back on keeping your face towards the opposite wall. ”Yes Mr. President, sir.” His hand lingered too long on your bare ankle before he rose.

He smiled, a snake like gleam in it, like he had finished wrapping his body around his victim to suffocate it. One more day, and then you were done. He could introduce you to whoever he liked, feed you whatever he wanted, but come tomorrow on that beautiful train ride home the Capitol, the games would be a distant traumatizing memory, and he would just be a face on a screen come next year.

He plucked the white rose off the front of his suit jacket, took the pin out, and tucked it behind your ear to sit prettily in your hair.

His hand wrapped around your waist causing you to grip his forearm to stumble out into the party once more. Your eyes scanned the party, catching on a young girl, the winner from District 4. Her name started with an M, but you couldn’t find the rest of it in you hazy brain. The only thing you could focus on was the sad frown etched upon her pretty face as President Snow dragged you through his party.

6 months later

You wiped dirt off on your pants standing up to admire the blooming garden spread out in front of you. A smile flittered onto your face for only a moment before it fell staring at the wilting leaves on top of wet soil. They had fallen no doubt during a weeding or pruning or plain decay, but they were there ready for the earth to absorb them for nutrients.

Did the arena absorb their decaying bodies too or were they flown away somewhere else? Did they go back to their families so they could rest in peace?

You shook the thought grabbing gardening tools and the water can heading back to the house. Time was helping, the white noise of the district was helping, the trains going by were helping. The only reminder you had ever been carted away...well that and the large sum you had been gifted upon winning. You decided to ration it, save it but comfortably. It was the only thing truly stopping you from drowning yourself in alcohol or morphling, and the disappointed look your father had given you when they had carried you off the train, too wasted to walk. You took up gardening soon after the initial withdrawing, rotting period needing to keep you hands, your mind busy.

The scent of vanilla hit you as soon as you entered the house your body freezing on the threshold. It was a warm vanilla scent, which meant your mother had made tea, which meant there was company. You set your tools down, peeling off you mud stained boots. Your mother laughed as you slowly continued down the hall, the sound muffled by the kitchen wall you had yet to curve around to enter the kitchen. Alarms shot off in your head, the hair on your neck standing up knowing it wasn't anyone from District 6.

"Mother." You called seeing the outline of her at the table.

"Darling." Your mother smiled as you turned the corner, eyes flitting over to the man across the table from her sipping on his tea. A fresh bouquet of white roses sat in a new vase at the center of the table. "We have a guest."

"Mr. President." Your mouth dried out, feet heavy, gluing you to the middle of the kitchen. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Your mother only stood up rushing towards you, taking your hands to sweetly drag you to the table. "Come sit, my darling bluebell." She forced you into an empty chair around the modest circular table, a plaid green table cloth covering it. You kept eyes on him as she poured tea into the only empty cup. Once the kettle was down she discreetly tried to wipe dirt off your face, "Always covered in something from your little garden."

President Snow mouth quirked up. "Garden?"

You only managed a nod. ”It was a small little thing, something to help…” Her eyes dropped, “Something to keep her busy, and well before you knew it it had taken up most of the lawn." Another discreet pat on the cheek. "I have never been more proud than when I see her out there working on it." She chuckled, "Well besides when you put the tiara on her head." You inwardly cringed at the word tiara, at the reminded of what had been done to earn it.

"My grandmother grew roses." He motioned to the red one he worse pinned to his blue suit. His eyes met yours, "Do you?" A small nod as steam swirled up from the tea that would never be drank, "May I see them?"

Your mother stood up answering, "Of course." Her hands came upon you shoulders, "Go change and show our lovely President." You pushed the chair back using it as an escape for the moment, "Wash your face, and put on that pretty blue sun dress." You didn't answer, only walked back down the hall to your room finally able to breath normally away from his suffocating presence. What was he doing all the way out here? You had figured, had clung, to the fact you would never have to see him, or the Capitol again, and now he was here invading your home.

After washing your shaking hands and face, digging the dirt out of your nails, and braiding your hair back did you put that stupid sundress on and walk back out. Your mother was standing by the door a forced smile on her lips, "Yes sir, no sir." She reminded you, pulling small tendrils of hair loose around your face. "Don't speak unless spoken to."

"I know." You told her, forcing her hands away from your face reciting what your father and mother had both instilled in you. "I am grateful for what you've done for us President Snow."

"Mr. President Snow, sir." She pinched your cheeks to give them color then let you step around her and out of the house.

He was standing near the edge of the garden just before the walkway split separating each sections. "It truly does take up most of the lawn." He smiled holding out his arm for you. You slowly allowed him to hook it under his elbow to lead down the walkway. "It smells divine."

"Thank you." You swallowed, "Mr. President, sir."

He only smirked, "Your mother raised a well mannered woman."

You offered him a shy smile, ”My father and mother always instilled proper etiquette as best as they could. They emphasized respect and dutifulness."

"Important traits to have." He agreed. He was Capitol, he was the president, no doubt relishing in the fact district folks weren't born with those traits, they had to have it beat into them.

His hand clamped around yours, trapping it in his arm. Your breaths shook, don’t stutter. "My roses are just this way." You motioned up the path for him to lead in that direction.

The rose bush could have looked better, but it had always been a work in progress, a difficult flower to manage, and your heart had never truly been fond of roses. Red and yellow seeds were the only color you could acquire so the colors sometimes missed their mark or died all together. “Troublesome for you?” There was no hiding the disappointment in his tone.

“Yes.” An embarrassed response. "I'm tempted to rid myself of them."

"Hmm," He stepped forward fingers running along the soft petals. "I have a garden full of white roses, I brought some for you today."

You gave him a small smile. "Thank you. I'm sure my mother adores them."

"They're for you, not her." He flatly told you a sneer on his face. "A gift of sorts to my favorite little victor." He smirked down at the bush plucking a perky red rose from its stem. "Or what did she call you?" He turned back towards you, "Her darling bluebell?"

The blush bit at your cheeks, "Thank you. Mr. President sir." He smiled deeply tucking the stem of the rose behind your ear rooting it into the braid. "They are lovely." I lied. The scent of roses overtook the air to the point you felt dizzy with it, felt them swallowing you whole like he did.

"I do hope your mother won’t mind looking after it all.” He sighed his hand running down your arm as blood drained out of you, the question sitting leaden in your mouth. "We're trying something new, something Dr. Gaul believed would bring good publicity to the games." You chewed on your cheek, biting the refusal back. You remembered hearing about her death a year or two ago. "A victory tour of sorts." Both hands were on your arms holding you in front of him, "You'll go district to district letting them celebrate you and then finish at the Capitol. I'm going to throw you another party."

His hand came under your chin tilting your face up to him, "How does that sound my little bluebell?"

"Okay." You whispered because it was what was supposed to be said to him.

He beamed, "Such a good girl." His smile fell, "Since this is the first time we're doing it I'll be going with you of course to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Ice coated you. How long would this be? Would he ever let you remain in peace? Would the garden wither and die in the time you would be gone? Why did he stare like that?

You only nodded the obedience in your spine locking into place.

It wasn't horrible. The train was comfy and reminded you of home, the rumbling sound it made, the smell of the smoke and gasoline, the horn blaring through the night. They had written words, of course, to say at every district, reciting from a script how sorry you were for their losses and how thankful you are for the Capitol and their generosity. President Snow talked the most which was ironically a godsend since you didn't want to speak at all.

Mostly, there was food, tons of food...and wine.

You more self-indulgent habit to make the time go by smoother. Even more so now because you could, because it was free, because your parents weren't here to shame you. You would stop once you got home; you had done it before. When the tour was over, you would stop, you would go back home, relish in the normalcy, the garden, where it was safe. Where no one could find you.

Snow wouldn't be on the train ride home.

It unnerved you that he was here simply a few train cars down, eating, sleeping, plotting murder no doubt, planning more games. It only made you swig from the bottle more to shove the anxiety down.

You had crawled in the train car window, a comfy seat under it, curling you feet under you to watch the night blur past. Each bump comforted you, like you were in the older train cars carting people around the district. The moon wasn't out making any outline impossible to see, so you closed your eyes, pretending to hear the bustling square at home. You took another drink of wine savoring the lazy feeling coating your body.

The door slid open no doubt an Avox coming to do some chore, so you didn’t even bother to look. "You didn't come to dinner." Your head snapped up seeing Snow standing in the door a tray of food in his hands, "They said you only grabbed a bottle of wine and left."

"I wasn't hungry." Not a lie, you had felt ill since leaving District 9 the tributes faces beginning to gnaw at you once more. You had survived, and they hadn’t, and it felt wrong. "Mr. President, sir."

He wasn't wearing his normal suit instead a pair of dress pants, and a starched white button up, the top two buttons undone. His immaculate blonde hair was slightly mused a stray curling piece falling onto his forehead. "Come eat with me." You weighed the options before unfolding your legs out and turning to slid off the sill. You tugged at the nightgown they had shoved in the closet for sleep, a soft thin robe covering your shoulders over it. They hadn’t allowed you to bring any clothes from home. His eyes glanced up your body as you pulled it tighter around you.

"Excuse my appearance Mr. President, sir." You sat down across from him.

"No need." He only smiled as he pushed the tray. "Do you like the train?"

You nodded picking at the food, "It reminds me of home. We used to live by the test track before it moved, and it used to rumble the house. I used to hate it growing up, but now it seems to have grown on me."

"I bet it has." You should enjoy the food more, shovel it down until it was nothing. Your family had never suffered too much within the district not like the others, like 10,11,12... but it wasn't exactly always easy. The Capitol was always cramming food down your throat before and after the games, before you had reveled in it, the after...it tasted like dust in my mouth sometimes. You set the fork down pushing the half eaten tray away, but he only pushed it back. "Eat, please." You began to open your mouth in protest, but his jaw ticked. "Eat." A command, "All of it."

You watched his face, bottom lip trembling at the new tone he was using. It was bound to come out, but you had been so kind, always listened. You slowly began eating again forcing each bite until nothing remained, until your chest was tight with a full stomach. You took a sip of water. Always thank him, your mother had whispered on your way out of the door, Even if you are not thankful.’ “Thank you, Mr. President sir."

"You are so good to me, my little bluebell." He leaned forward the darkness engulfing the blue in his eyes. "Can you do something for me?" You made yourself nod even-though fear was trickling down your skin. He motioned with his head, "Go lie down on the bed."

The color drained from your face, "Wh-What?"

Don't stutter.

You cursed inwardly for the slip. ”Be my good girl and go lie down on the bed." His grin widened, “I won’t say it again.”

By the time your knee hit the bed tears had slipped over, you tried to stop them, but they welled anyways as you turned to look at him. He stalked towards you unbuttoning his pants, unzipping them, so you forced your gaze upward taking in the sounds of rustling. His hands pushed the robe down your shoulders letting it pool onto the bed. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to stop him as his fingers trailed along your bare shoulders, along your collarbones, up your neck. "Spit." He held out his hand. You swallowed, pulling the liquid back up and spit into his palm watching him bring it between his legs. You forced yourself to not look down, not look at what his hand was doing with a large length, to not look as he slid his hand along it. His other hand came up to your face, once again dragging across your bottom lip, pushing his finger further in, hooking it onto your bottom teeth. "Suck on it." He growled. You blinked fresh tears out before letting your tongue poke and lick up his finger, swirling around his knuckle listening to his pants. A cry of protest sat in your lungs, but would it matter? Were you always bound to be at his mercy, cursed to obey his whims to exert his power. “You listen so good." His head fell back a little the small groan hiding the sounds of him stroking himself. “Will you take my cock good too?”

"Please." You whimpered against his hand finding the smallest resistance in yourself at his words. "Please sir...I'm a virgin. I-I don't-!"

He shoved you back onto the bed with a growl his knees straddling your thigh as he pumped his hand faster and faster groaning into the air as two fingers invaded your mouth thrusting along your tongue. You felt violated, but all you could do was lie there and take it, let him do whatever he was doing because you were good, because he was the president and you had to obey. You closed your eyes tears burning your skin on the way his movements shook your body, until finally he stilled warmth shooting over your skin.

You finally breathed as he removed his fingers and stepped away. You lied there, listening to him straighten his clothes back on. "Don't change. Sleep in that." You glanced down at the white clumps running down your nightgown, some even drying to your exposed chest.

He stared at you expectantly. Thank him, even when you're not thankful. "Thank you Mr. President, sir.”

His grin was haunting as he left.

The rest of the tour went unbothered. He only occasionally came back to repeat those events, but each time it got a little easier as you began to know what to expect, each time you dared to look a little bit more. Sometimes even getting lost in the way his hand glided across his glistening cock covered in your spit. On the rare nights, you even gazed upward at him, at his hooded eyes, sweat dripping down his forehead, tongue between his teeth. You even began to listen to the noises he made, the heavy grunts, the soft groans and grit of his jaw, his vulgar words at you when his eyes suddenly met yours making you look away with heat in your cheeks.

And then he would cum over your body.

You threw up after the first night only forcing it to stay on your body because he had said so. After that it became easier to withstand the feeling, the warmth, the smell. You realized after a few times it gave off a scent you had only attributed to him, you only knew that because he often stood so close to you. It was so mild and hidden that you could only tell when you brought some close to your nose, and since it was already there you tasted it and you figured his skin might taste like that too.

It was fine, until you finished the tour of District 2. The boy's face stared down at you, and you remembered how it looked covered in blood.

Please!

The crunch of bone.

You could barely get through the reading, crying halfway through before someone had to usher you to the side. Snow was angry; you could see it in his dark eyes but maybe he could find pity. You had been so kind, so good.

It didn't matter by the time he found you curled into the corner of my room you were covered in smeared make up and tears. You couldn't even take off the stupid pink dress they had given you. He stood there for a moment taking you in then he grabbed you by the hair yanking you up onto the bed. Then he reeled back and slapped you across the face so hard your head snapped to the side. "You were very bad today bluebell."

"I-I..."

Another slap the other way. "Don't stutter."

Your cheek was stinging, "I'm sorry." A pause, and then another hard slap stars split your vision. "I'm sorry Mr. President, sir." You closed your eyes waiting for more but then you heard the familiar noise of his pants unbuttoning and your body began to lay itself back like it had registered before you did. He only darkly chuckled as he pulled you back up and shoved you to your knees in front of him, "I know you didn't mean to break the rules. Right?” You nodded, “And why do I know that?”

"Because I'm your good girl, Mr. President, sir." You stared up at him with red cheeks and pouting lips.

He groaned, his hard length pressing against your mouth. You glanced up at him with furrowed brows not knowing how to do what he was asking. “Open your mouth,” You did. “Don’t bite. I'll do the rest." He pushed past your lips, taking ahold off your face and began rocking his hips into you, his cock sliding along your tongue. "Oh fuck," He shivered shoving himself deeper the tip of him touching the back of your throat. You swallowed the gag as he pulled out to slam back into you bring your throat more tears spilling out, spit running down your chin. You squeezed your eyes as he used your mouth for whatever he wanted as he thrusted his cock into your mouth viciously. "Swirl your tongue around it." He hissed and you obeyed running it along the shaft, around the head feeling him stutter his movements, but pick up speed. His hand was rooted in your scalp yanking your face up, pain bubbling up with each abusing stroke, but something else was there too, and you realized his skin didn't taste bad. "You like that? You like when I fuck your mouth?"

You mumbled out incoherently not even sure what your answer was.

He shoved your head back, neck craned against the mattress his hips pinning you as he blatantly fucked into your mouth. ”I wonder what pretty sounds you would make if I fucked you hmm?” His hand bobbed your head against him as you gripped his thighs to hold yourself up as saliva dripped across your chest. "I can't though...too many others want it."

Your eyes shot open just as his thrust turned sporadic and warm liquid shot down your throat. Your face was covered in fluids, covered in drool and cum, dribbling down your chin as he slowly removed himself. ”What?" Your throat was raw and torn.

"I was going to wait to tell you." He sighed tucking himself back in. "But you are very desirable as a Victor, and once you told me you were a virgin...well it made you a lot more desirable." He patted your tears and cum stained cheek, "But you have been so good to me despite this slip up, so I will try to pick someone you will like. Hmm?” You were too stunned to respond. He was selling you to people, selling you to the highest bidder because you had killed a boy. You weren’t even supposed to win everyone had let you know how the tribute from 10 was slated to win, but he got taken out while you were hiding, and they had lost money. Because your life was a bet for them.

"I want to go home." You cried softly his hand cradling your face.

He cocked his head to the side, "Oh bluebell. You can't leave me yet." He stood up and began to walk to the door, "I might just have to keep you."

He left you there on your knees. No he didn't quite taste bad, in fact, you thought maybe you enjoyed the pool of him on your tongue. You cried even harder.

PART TWO here!

(if you care)

#coriolanus snow #fanfic #dark fanfic #dark coriolanus snow #president snow #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coryo smut #coriolanus smut #coryo x you #dark fanfiction #smut #coriolanus x y/n #tom blyth #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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kyleoreillylover · 4 months

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Loyalty- Chapter 1: The Beginning.

Series Summary/Masterlist

tag list: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius

Chapter Summary: The cracks in your sweet persona are showing. Jey wants to help you through them, and Roman wants to capitalize on them.

word count: 13,992 (ik it's long but bare with me!!! you'll get less chapters more content, trust me pls :)) warnings: manipulation, cheating, wrestling related violence.

WRESTLEMANIA BACKLASH 2020

Blue.

Blue used to be your favorite color. The serene hue that used to beckon memories of tranquility, now seemed tainted by the complexities of the present. Your once form fitted sparkling blue gear was now blood stained and glimmering with sweat, the championship it matched no longer in your grasp.

But now, the color made you want to throw up. The sight of you made you want to throw up.

You stared back at your reflection in your dressing room mirror, the dressing room mirror reflecting an image you hardly recognized. Your face was bruised and distorted, your eye swollen shut and lip cut and bleeding from the fight you were in just moments ago with Ronda Rousey.

And just a few minutes before that match, you were informed that you would be dropping your Smackdown Women's Championship to her, because they thought that was what was best for business. Because not telling you beforehand wasn't what was best for business.

Casting you- the nicknamed Princess of Pain of WWE because of your kind nature and killer attitude in the ring-one of the biggest babyfaces on the roster, one of the biggest merch sellers, one of the greatest on the mic and in the ring, and finally one of their champions after so many years of crawling to the top from the NXT food chain to your win against Sasha Banks in one of the most historic main events ever at Wrestlemania to hold your first main roster title- to the side after less than a month as a champion was best for business.

Making you finally have your moment on the grandest stage of them all only to have it shattered so soon at Ronda's request after she just came back from her months-long vacation was best for business.

Sami tried to console you, he knew from the look on your face as you left the meeting before your match and ran into him that something was horribly wrong.

But you brushed off his attempts at comforting you with a solemn smile and a 'I'm fine, don't worry about me, Sami.' and took off before he could inquire any more. If he pushed any more with those brown eyes that always seemed to know what you were thinking and those warm arms that he outstretched towards you, you knew you would fall into them and cry.

You decided instead of yelling at management, you tried to make the best of it and lead Ronda into a good match and push any animosity you had and be cordial- you could get another opportunity in the future. And maybe this would lead to one of your friends-like Liv or Rhea-taking the title off of her and getting their moment they absolutely deserved.

But all those thoughts left your brain when she stared back across the ring from you with that stupid smirk across her face and went off script and punched you square in the nose so hard that it broke and your face was trickled with blood before the bell even rang.

There would be no holding back, you thought. Even if I lose, I'ma make sure I come out the true fucking winner and make her work for it.

And work for it Ronda did. The two of you beat the holy hell out of each other. Under the bright lights, punches were not pulled, and bodies were broken.

The commentary table was destroyed when you pile-driven Ronda through it. Your face was covered in grim and blood from where Ronda attacked it, the blood getting into your eyes and making you wipe it every 5 seconds. and Ronda's shoulder was dislocated from where you rammed a chair into it, relishing in her cries of pain.

How's it feel going off script now, bitch?, you thought.

Sami knew you weren't okay though when Ronda finally got you into a sleeper hold and your eyes fluttered shut after hanging on for so long, and instead of tapping out as planned, deciding to pass out.

Ronda clearly didn't like what you were doing, since she tightened her grip on your neck and didn't let go for a full five minutes, only pushing herself off of you when Adam Pearce and medical/security staff finally convinced her to let go of you.

"I'm what's best for business!" She screamed into your face, waving your title around with a cocky smirk on her face as she watched you glare at her, pushing away the medical staff weakly and refuse to get on the stretcher, much to their chagrin. "Not some nice weak little bitch who peaked in NXT!"

Her words hurt more than the physical pain you were in, and you kept repeating them in your mind as you wiped your face, wincing with every wipe.

You went to medical, but there was only so much they could do. They put your nose back in place, (Sami barged into the room and forced you to let him stay, and his hand almost broke under your grip when the doctor was fixing your nose), disinfected your lip, gave you some pain meds, and told you that you'd be cleared to wrestle in a couple of weeks, and instructed you to put ice on your bruised body.

Sami was planning on getting your stuff from your locker room and bringing you to your hotel room so he could help you relax (much to your annoyance, all you wanted to do was be alone and wallow in your own self-pity), when you ran into a concerned looking Kevin in the hallway.

The scene he saw before him- Sami trying to wrap an arm around you to help you up and your stubborn ass refusing him, made him explode in anger and concern. But much like with everything Kevin says, it came out in the worst way possible.

"Just because Ronda knocked the marbles outta your head doesn't mean you get to act stupid. Let Sami help you, you dumbass!" he shouted, gesturing wildly in his frustration.

You glared at Kevin, not in the mood for him tonight. Why he thought he had any right to speak to you like that was beyond comprehension. He was no longer your best friend, so he shouldn't be acting like he even cared. He didn't care when he cost you how many championships when you were about to win them, did he? Of course now he wants to speak with you.

Despite the pain and the swirling emotions, you managed to push Sami away, moving closer to Kevin with a fiery gaze.

"Oh, so now you wanna care about me? Very funny." you spat, your voice dripping with disdain. "And last time I checked, Ronda came out that match with a broken shoulder, and if you don't get away from me in the next 5 seconds, I'll break yours too."

Kevin huffed as if he couldn't decide between continuing the argument or stepping back, but he saw Sami rubbing your back and trying to comfort you despite your resistance, and he couldn't hold back his sharp tongue or his jealousy.

"Does that only apply to everyone or is Sami the exception as always?" Kevin shot back, his frustration evident in his tone. "For fucks sake, your bleeding and all you can care about is the fact that I'm telling you the truth, and you can't handle it like always."

Your fists clenched at your sides as Kevin's words pierced through the haze of pain and anger. You wanted to scream at him, to make him understand the turmoil raging within you, but the searing pain in your body drowned out any coherent thoughts.

Before you could retort, Sami stepped between you and Kevin, cutting Kevin with a glare that could cut through steel. "Are you seriously jealous that I'm trying to take care of her? Maybe you would have that opportunity if you actually acted like you cared about her!" Sami mocked, his voice low and seething with frustration.

Kevin knew he should've focused on your physical and mental state instead of starting the argument, but the fire was lit and Sami only added to the gasoline. "Maybe I would've had that opportunity if she didn't constantly take your side and ignore her actual best friend!"

At Sami's incredulous look at his statement, Kevin scowled and glared at him. "Don't act like I'm not right. No matter what I do, it's always Sami this, Sami that. 'Oh Y/N, we hate Kevin, we can't trust Kevin.' Like I don't exist. Like he's the only one who gets to be there for you!"

Sami glowered at Kevin, shaking his head in disbelief. "I do get to be the only one there for her! Because you weren't there for us when we needed you."

This time it was Kevin shaking his head in disbelief, a wry smile on his face. "Oh my god, do you not hear yourself? We, we, we? You don't care about her, you just care about trying to avenge yourself for the past! You only want her to yourself because you know that your own actions pushed her away, so you are trying to blame yourself on me!"

Your head throbbed with pain as their argument escalated, each word feeling like a dagger in your already wounded heart. The realization that this altercation was about more than just your well-being dawned upon you. They were fighting for a place in your life, a place you were struggling to define for yourself amidst the chaos of tonight.

"Blame your actions on me! Blame your short comings in your careers on me! Blame Y/N's shitty title reign on me! Blame everything on me, because that's what you always do! Y/N can't see past your stupid sweet smile and fake friendship to realize that you're manipulating her emotions!" Kevin retorted, his voice rising in frustration.

"Enough!" Your voice shattered through the heated exchange, cutting their argument short. Breathing heavily, you felt the pain and exhaustion wash over you, but a surge of anger and hurt fueled your words. Both men turned to you, their angry expressions faltering at the angry expression on your bruised up face.

"This is not about you two!" You shouted, your voice a mixture of frustration and agony. "This is about me! About what happened out there!"

You gestured vaguely toward the arena, a reminder of the brutal match you just endured. "This is not about which one of you gets to be by my side or who's the better friend. This is about how I'm feeling right now, which is like absolute shit! I just got my ass handed to me in the ring, and all I want is to be left alone!"

Your voice cracked with emotion as tears welled up in your eyes, a combination of physical pain and the emotional turmoil caused by the situation. You turned to Kevin, who was taking a step forward, his expression now more concerned than combative.

"Kevin..." You struggled to maintain your composure, wiping away a stray tear. "You want me to stop blaming you? For everything? For all your mistakes? For my 'shitty title reign'?" Kevin winced as your words hit him hard. "Well, I'm sorry if I'm not in the mood to hear about how you're such a great friend and how you care about me after everything that's happened tonight."

Your voice cracked as you fought to keep your emotions in check. "But I'll stop blaming you forever. We are done. Forever. You want to feel no more guilt? You choked on your words, a mix of anguish and frustration bubbling up inside. "Here's your freedom from the burden of my friendship, Kevin. Congratulations."

"Y/N..."

"And you!" You turned to Sami, who had been until he just now piped up quietly standing by, his face twisted with concern and guilt. "Kevin is right. You seem to think you know what's best for me, but you don't! You both think you know what's best for me, but you don't!"

Your voice trembled with emotion as you struggled to articulate the storm of feelings raging within you. "I'm tired of this, Sami. I'm tired of feeling like I owe you everything because you've been there for me. I'm tired of you expecting me to be okay with everything when I'm not! I'm tired of being pushed and pulled in every direction, as if I'm some prize to be won!"

Sami's eyes widened in shock and hurt, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch your arm, but you flinched away from his touch. The pain, both physical and emotional, was overwhelming, and you couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take their expectations anymore.

"So I'm done with this. I'm done with the both of you." Your voice shook as tears streamed down your face, your body trembling from the sheer weight of the emotional turmoil. "I just want to be alone. Please, just leave me alone."

Without waiting for a response, you turned away from both of them and staggered down the hallway, pain pulsating through your body with every step. The sounds of their voices, their arguments, and the echoes of your own shattered feelings reverberated in your mind as you disappeared into the corridor, seeking solace in the solitude of your dressing room.

And now, there you sit, surrounded by the eerie silence of the empty dressing room. The chaos of emotions swirls within, echoing the bruises and wounds that adorn your body.

Eventually you showered and changed into a hoodie and shorts, but you sat right back in your seat, your mind a heavy fog you didn't know how to navigate. Not some nice weak little bitch who peaked in NXT! Not some nice weak little bitch who peaked in NXT!

You're not sure how long you've been sitting there, lost in the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. A knock on the door interrupts your solitary moment. Assuming it was Sami or Kevin, you rolled your eyes before realizing you didn't want to see either of them again tonight, or ever.

"I said I want to be alone! So go away!" you call out, your voice strained from the emotional outburst.

"If you're assuming it's those parasites you call best friends, you are mistaken, miss." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the voice, and you stood up to see who it was.

The door creaked open slowly, and in stepped a figure you didn't expect to see- Paul Heyman.

"Paul? What are you doing here?" you asked, wiping away tears and trying to compose yourself in the presence of the unexpected visitor.

"I came to see you. May I have a moment of your time, please?" Paul's tone was calm and measured, and there was something in his demeanor that seemed earnest.

Despite your reluctance to engage with anyone at that moment, there was an air of sincerity in Paul's request that piqued your curiosity. You nodded silently, gesturing for him to proceed.

"I watched your match tonight," Paul began, his gaze steady as he spoke. "What happened out there was unfortunate, to say the least. But I must admit, I was impressed by your resilience, your determination to give it your all despite the circumstances."

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of where Paul was going with this. His presence felt unusual, especially considering the two of you never directly interacted much before.

"I know we're not directly associated, you and I being on different levels and divisions of the playing field, but I couldn't help but notice something remarkable about your performance," Paul continued, his expression thoughtful. "Your tenacity, your ability to hold your ground, even when faced with adversity, it's something that caught my attention."

You remained silent, studying Paul's demeanor. His words were unexpected, and you couldn't quite grasp his intentions behind this unexpected visit.

"Forgive me if I'm overstepping any boundaries, but I believe there's potential in you that hasn't been fully realized yet," Paul remarked, his gaze unwavering. "You have something special, something that transcends mere championship reigns or victories," Paul emphasized, his expression earnest. "You have the ability to connect with the audience on a deeper level, to evoke emotions, to tell a story. That's a rare gift, one that can't be overshadowed by a single match or a title loss."

You blinked in surprise, not expecting such words from Paul Heyman of all people. His assessment of your performance and his acknowledgement of your capabilities left you momentarily speechless. You'd never imagined receiving this level of acknowledgment from someone of his stature, especially not in the midst of your emotional turmoil.

"I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your voice wavering slightly as you struggled to process Paul's unexpected praise.

"Take a moment, breathe," Paul offered, a reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I simply wanted to express my genuine admiration for what you showcased out there tonight. Despite the outcome, you displayed a raw emotion and resilience that's commendable. You have the fire, the determination, and a resilience that's quite admirable. But sometimes, in this business, one needs more than just talent and determination to succeed."

You frowned slightly, feeling a mix of curiosity and skepticism. "Excuse me, but what exactly are you trying to say, Paul?" you inquired, your voice tinged with a hint of caution.

Paul paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.

"What I'm trying to convey is that sometimes, the most powerful narratives in this industry are born out of moments like this. Moments of struggle, of pain, of setbacks. Your journey resonates with the audience because it's real, it's relatable. You've faced challenges, setbacks, and yet you continue to fight, not just in the ring but against the odds stacked against you. And that's where true stories are born, in the depths of adversity."

You didn't know how to react to Paul's words. He was offering a perspective you hadn't considered amidst the chaos of emotions and conflicts you were dealing with, but why he was expressing this to you was still a mystery.

"I understand this might be a lot to take in, especially given the circumstances," Paul acknowledged, his tone empathetic. " But I believe that your journey doesn't end here, with this loss. It continues, it evolves, and it becomes something greater. It doesn't end with a loss, it starts with one."

You narrowed your eyes slightly, trying to discern Paul's true intentions behind his unexpected pep talk. His words were both encouraging and cryptic, leaving you with a sense of curiosity and intrigued.

"I appreciate your perspective, Paul," you said cautiously, your voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and skepticism. "But why are you telling me this?"

Paul smiled slightly, his eyes glinting with a sense of intrigue. "Because I want to help you start your journey." He pulled out something from his pocket and handed it to you - a business card with The Bloodline's contact information.

"I understand you are old friends with Roman Reigns," Paul explained. "The Head of the Table. He's been quite impressed with your work, always has been. But tonight he would like to offer you something more than just admiration. He wants to offer you an opportunity."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. The idea of being offered an opportunity by your old friend Roman tonight was unexpected, to say the least. You glanced down at the business card in your hand, then back up at Paul, waiting for further explanation.

"Roman sees potential in you, in what you bring to the table," Paul continued, his tone measured yet confident. "And he's not just saying it as a friend-he is saying it as the Head of the Table, as the leader of The Bloodline. And I understand that the two of you have history, a friendship that predates your WWE career. Upper management might not believe in you, but Roman does, trust me. And after tonight, he sees that they need to believe in you too."

Your mind raced with a flurry of emotions and thoughts. The unexpected turn of events, the offer from Roman, the belief that someone like Paul Heyman seemed to have in your potential - it was all overwhelming, especially in the midst of your emotional turmoil and the fallout with your friends.

"I am gonna be really honest and tell you that I am bruised, I am beaten and I don't have the mental capacity to absorb all of this right now." You admitted, your voice trembling slightly with exhaustion.

Paul chuckled, smiling wide at you. This was going well.

"I understand. I didn't expect you to have it all figured out in one moment," Paul reassured, his tone understanding. "Take your time. Rest, recover, and if you ever want to explore possibilities beyond what's currently being presented to you, if you want to tell a story that truly reflects your spirit and resilience, give me a call."

You stared at the business card in your hand, surprised at the turn of events. "Think about it," Paul said, noting your contemplative expression, before nodding at you and leaving the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You sank back into the chair when you were once again enveloped by the silence of the empty dressing room. You didn't know what to think, what to do, how to act. All you knew was that you wanted to go to your hotel room and sleep this day off. You sat up, grabbing your phone and checking it.

outgoing text to Seth <;3: I need you tonight. come over to my room?

read.

You sighed, but your body was not surprised and too weak for you to be angry. You could deal with your brooding boyfriends self later. You didn't have the emotional capacity to baby him on why he should care about you right now.

You grabbed your stuff, heading out of the dressing room with a heavy heart and a weary body. Your uber ride was quick, and you finally arrived at your hotel room.

The exhaustion and emotional weight of the day settled in as you entered the room, the only solace being the relative quiet and isolation. You decided to take a quick shower, hoping that the warm water might provide a momentary escape from the chaos of the day. As the water cascaded down, you felt a bit of the tension ebbing away, though the emotional turmoil lingered.

After the shower, you slipped into comfortable pajamas, feeling the heaviness of the day sinking in. Your phone dinged with a text, and you picked it up, expecting it to be Seth or one of the girls asking if you were okay.

Instead, the message was from an unknown number, which struck you as odd. Curious, you opened it to read:

"Hey, it's Jey. Paul gave me your number. I know you was expecting Roman, but unfortunately, he's occupied right now. He wanted me to reach out to you instead. If you need anything or want to talk, I'm here. Take care."

You blinked in surprise at the unexpected message from Jey Uso. Why he might be reaching out on Roman's behalf was a bit puzzling. Why any of this was happening right now was puzzling. You didn't have the energy for this. So despite the curiosity gnawing at you, you didn't respond.

Turning your phone off, you snuggled into your bed, the warm covers offering you comfort from your pain. Your eyes fluttered shut, the exhaustion taking over, and soon, you were lost in the realm of sleep with only one thought on your mind.

You were going to get your comeuppance, no matter what.

liked by yaonlylivonce, sethrollins, beckylynch, uceyjucey and 500,000 others

Y/N: Vacation was just what I needed 🏖️

view all comments:

user: you deserved better!! ronda shouldn’t have taken ur title!!

user: so are u staying in the wwe or walking out?

user: wwe got u fucked up if they think we just gon' take that!!

livmorgan: mother!!!

sethrollins: my girl!

↳beckylynch: mhm.

↳user: huh?

↳user: nah becky rlly tweaking rn 😭

user: why didn't Seth go with you?

↳ user: and they don't even post each other like that no more 👀 but lemme not be messy 😭

"Why do we even need to think of adding a new person in the Bloodline? She ain't even talk to none of us anyways." Jey sighed as he shut off his phone from where he was checking your Instagram, in anger or disappointment he didn't know.

It had been almost 2 months since you were seen in the WWE, and you never responded to his text message. Or, according to rumors, to any of the higher ups either. Apparently you told them you'd come back when you were ready, and left it at that, leaving them just as much in the dark as the fans were.

Jey just assumed that you were feeling overwhelmed or needed some personal space to get better and that's why you ain't respond to him, but after the first week he concluded you were ignoring him deliberately.

"Roman, she ain't even trying to reach out or nothing," Jey continued, frustration evident in his voice. "Paul's been trying to push her into this whole thing, but she's just ghosted everyone. What's the point of bringing her into the mix if she don't even wanna be here?"

Roman glanced up from the papers on his desk, his expression unreadable. He had his suspicions about your absence, but he chose to keep them to himself.

"Give her time, Jey," he said calmly. "If she's not responding, it means she's not ready or willing to engage. We can't force her into something she's not comfortable with. Trust me, I know how she is. She's like you; she moves at her own pace and needs space, otherwise that fire she has will simmer down."

Jey let out a frustrated sigh, tossing his phone onto the table. He understood what Roman was saying, but for whatever reason it still frustrated him not to hear from you. He never even talked to you-you shared the same circle but never crossed paths-yet when he saw your Instagram pics he felt a connection that he couldn't explain.

"I just feel like we're all sitting here waiting for something that might never happen," Jey muttered, looking up at Roman with a mix of concern and frustration.

Roman checked his watch and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head, his gaze fixed on Jey. "Trust me, we won't be waiting any longer."

Jey raised an eyebrow, confusion written all over his face before a knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Roman gestured for Jey to open it.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing you , standing in the doorway. Your appearance was a stark contrast from the last time they saw you—determined, your gaze steady despite the tiredness in your eyes, your aura a mix of confidence and vulnerability. It was evident that the time away had changed you, but in ways they couldn't quite discern.

You glanced between Roman and Jey, a mixture of emotions playing across your face—resilience, uncertainty, and a hint of determination.

"Y/N?" Jey exclaimed in surprise, his eyes widening as he took in your presence. Roman remained composed, his gaze fixed on you as he gestured for you to come in.

You hesitated for a moment but Jey closing the door behind you prompted you to step forward into the room. You were wearing a low cut black tank top, your hair pulled back into a messy bun, and loose jeans, a far cry from the glitz and glam of your WWE persona. You hadn't expected to come back just yet, but something in you told you it was time, time to face what you had been avoiding.

"Sorry I'm late-" You tried to apologize but Roman interrupted, his voice calm and composed. "No need to apologize. You're right on time. Take a seat."

You pursed your lips, sitting down as indicated, feeling the weight of the atmosphere in the room. Roman's composed demeanor didn't fail to remind you of the authority he held, even in a casual setting like this.

"I know I've been MIA, and I haven't been responsive," you began, your voice tentative as you glanced between Roman and Jey. "There's no excuse for my absence or for not responding to your messages."

Jey opened his mouth to speak, but Roman held up a hand, indicating he should remain silent for now. "We understand," Roman said calmly, his gaze fixed on you. "We just wanted to ensure you were okay. We know you needed your time. Are you healing up okay?"

You nodded, the weight of their understanding and non-confrontational approach easing some of the tension in your shoulders. "Yeah, I'm getting better, but it's been a process." You admitted, lifting your shirt slightly to reveal a faint scar along your ribs that made both men wince. "As you can see."

"Damn, Ronda really fucked you up, huh?" At your glare, Jey winced and apologized, "I mean, sorry. Didn't mean to be rude. Just saying, it's good to see you back though. People here missed you."

Roman inclined his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Indeed. Your absence has been felt, Y/N."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Being back here, facing Roman, it was both daunting and strangely comforting. "I... I didn't plan on coming back just yet, but something made me reconsider."

Jey leaned forward, curiosity evident in his voice. "What made you change your mind?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much you wanted to disclose. You were close with Roman after all, not Jey. But something in his gaze told you that this conversation was one you could trust them with. Trust him with.

"I needed time away, time to think, to heal. But something in me told me it was time to face things, to come back and finish the journey."

Roman leaned back into his chair, his gaze still focused on you. "I'm glad that you're back, and I apologize that we haven't been in contact like we used to. Being the head of the ribal Chief comes with its own responsibilities, and sometimes that means we overlook things. But I assure you, you're still family to me. Which is why I sent Paul after you to make sure you were alright."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise at Roman's words, the mention of Paul's involvement still puzzling you. "Yeah, about Paul?" you questioned, confusion evident in your voice. "He reached out to me a while back, but I didn't quite understand what he wanted. Something about an opportunity."

Roman nodded, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes. I told him to check up on you, see how you were doing. But most importantly, to ask you about an opprounity." He paused, leaning forward, his demeanor shifting to a more business-like tone. "And that is to be my right hand woman."

Your breath caught in your throat at Roman's statement, and you were sure that if you were drinking water that would have been the moment you'd have spat it out in surprise. "I-I'm sorry?"

Roman, to his credit, maintained his composed demeanor, his gaze steady yet filled with a hint of amusement at your reaction as he repeated himself. “I want you by my side, as a part of the Bloodline. To be the right hand woman I need. You've got the fire and resilience that I've been looking for. You might have been gone for a bit, but it doesn't change what you bring to the table. And I want to make you start your journey and realize you bring the whole damn universe to the table."

You were speechless, your mind reeling from this entire converstation. Being invited to be a part of the Bloodline, to serve as Roman's right hand, it was beyond anything you had imagined or anticipated.

"I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your mind racing with a flurry of emotions. "But.. I'm not blood like the rest of you. I'm not a part of your family, Roman. I don't know if I fit in with the Bloodline."

Roman leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction. "That's why I said my right hand woman, not my right hand blood. Like with Paul, he's my wiseman and not my blood. You can be that, and so much more." Roman's words were deliberate, his tone holding a weight of certainty.

Roman's words were deliberate, his tone holding a weight of certainty. "You can be the greatest woman's champion the WWE has ever seen. You can be the greatest asset to the Bloodline, regardless of blood relations. You can be the greatest woman to hold this position, all the power, and you don't need to be blood to achieve that." He leaned closer to you, his eyes fixated on yours, his words laden with conviction. "All you have to do is acknowledge me."

You breathed heavily, were taken aback by Roman's sincerity and the offer itself. It was something you hadn't anticipated, especially after your absence and the confusion that surrounded your return. "But why do you want me?" You asked, your voice a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. "I mean, I've been gone for so long. There are others who could be much better at this role, much more qualified than I am."

Roman leaned back in his chair, a small smirk playing on his lips as he regarded you. "Even after all these years you are still as modest as ever," he remarked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"I want you because you bring something to the table that others might not possess. I realized that in this group of men that I lead, I need a woman that can calm our fires and amplify our strengths, yet ignite those same fires when necessary. I need a woman that can command respect without uttering a word, someone who carries their own weight, and someone who's unafraid to respectfully challenge me when needed because I trust your judgement after years of friendship. You possess a fire that's essential for what I envision. You might not see it, but I do."

You were stunned by Roman's words. His perception of you and the role he believed you could play within the Bloodline were far beyond what you had imagined. The weight of his trust and the responsibility he was offering left you feeling both honored and overwhelmed.

"I... I need some time to think about this," you finally replied, still processing the enormity of Roman's proposition. "It's a lot to take in, Roman. I appreciate the offer, but you must understand that I need a minute to-"

"I understand," Roman interrupted, his voice gentle yet firm. "Take all the time you need. I don't expect an answer right away. Just know that the offer stands, and whenever you're ready to give me your response, I'll be here." He leaned back, giving you a reassuring nod that you delivered back. "Jey, walk her out."

Jey, who had been observing the exchange in silence, leaned forward and stood up, nodding at Roman. "Sure thing, Uce." He turned to you, offering you a small smile as he was a gentlemen, but his expression was guarded. "C'mon, I'll walk you out."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Standing up from your seat, you cast one last glance at Roman, who nodded in acknowledgment before you followed Jey out of the room.

As you walked alongside Jey, silence enveloped both of you. It was a strange feeling—being back here, facing the unexpected turn of events, facing your own emotions, and considering the proposition Roman had offered. Jey seemed contemplative, as if he had questions but chose not to voice them until you were almost at the exit.

"Why?'

You blinked at Jey's question, taking a moment to process his words. "Why what?" you asked, slightly puzzled by his sudden inquiry.

"Why you?" Jey clarified, glancing at you with a mix of curiosity and scrutiny. "I mean, I know ya'll are friends, but you've been gone for a while. You've been quiet, and suddenly, the Tribal Chief wants you back as his right hand. What's so special about you?"

You paused, considering your response. Jey had a point. Your sudden reappearance and Roman's offer might seem surprising to someone observing from the outside. Taking a breath, you decided to offer a glimpse of your perspective.

"I wish I could give you an answer, Jey." You replied, your voice measured as you walked alongside him. "But I honestly don't know. This all happened so fast. One minute I'm trying to cope with my loss, and the next, Roman's offering me a position within the Bloodline." You looked at him quizzically before continuing. "Why do you think Roman offered this to me?"

Jey furrowed his brows, contemplating your question. He wasn't expecting you to seek his input on the matter. Nobody really asked him for his opinion within the family, but there was something in your gaze that prompted him to consider your query seriously. Maybe it was because you actually desired his opinion in a time where no one else did that slightly warmed his heart, but he’d never admit it.

"I don't know," Jey replied honestly, shaking his head slightly. "But Roman sees something in you. Something that he thinks can be an asset to us. You might not see it, but he does."

He paused, glancing at you briefly before averting his gaze. "Maybe it's 'cause he trusts you. Or maybe there's something you bring that nobody else does. I ain't sure, but I know when Roman makes a move like this, he's got his reasons. He don't just do things without a reason."

You nodded thoughtfully, giving Jey a smile as you processed his words. "Well, whatever the reason, I hope it leads to me seeing you around more often,” you added with a light chuckle, trying to ease the tension slightly.

Jey offered a small smile in return, though his expression remained somewhat guarded even though he wanted to be friendly. A nice pretty girl wanted to be his friend and all he was doing was analyzing her for answers on Roman. “Yeah, we'll see about that," he replied cryptically before opening the door for you. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

You gave Jey a nod of acknowledgment, appreciating his gesture. "You too, Jey. Thanks for walking me out." With a last smile, Jey watched as you left the arena, your beautiful presence disappearing as you stepped out.

‘Damn,’ Jey thought to himself, there's something more to her than meets the eye.’ Maybe he had underestimated you. Maybe it's worth paying attention to.

And maybe he wouldn’t hate getting to know you more.

You winced slightly as you changed into your gym clothes in the locker room. It had been a few months now since you got hurt, and you were now cleared, but your body still hurt like a bitch.

It had also been a few months since Roman asked you to join the Bloodline, and you gave him your answer a few weeks later: A resounding yes.

You tried to acknowledge him in the confines of his office with the Jimmy, Jey and Paul with you, but Roman told you that he'd make you acknowledge when you passed his test and he would know for sure you were loyal to the Bloodline. Roman told you in the meantime thought to get acquainted with the rest of the members, and to start training with them until you were ready to be on TV again. Which led to you going to the Bloodline's own personal gym located in the arena and training and hanging out with the twins.

Jimmy was funny, cool, and always hyped up, and quickly took a liking to you because of your shared humor and your kind spirit; the two of you were always goofing around and letting loose. But Jey was- as you found out- a tough nut to crack.

It wasn't like he was rude- he never yelled at you or treated you poorly. In fact, he was quite respectful, but but he had a guarded demeanor around you. He was more reserved, observant, and often seemed lost in his thoughts. You found it a bit challenging to get him to open up or engage in conversations beyond the necessary exchanges during training sessions.

It was like there was an invisible barrier that kept you both at a distance. You couldn't quite pinpoint why, but there was an underlying tension whenever you were around him. You tried to engage in conversation, crack jokes, or even just ask about his day, but his responses were always short and guarded.

It was like he had his guard up around you all the time, but it didn't make things awkward or uncomfortable; rather, it made you more determined to break through that barrier.

But it wasn't your own doing that almost broke through that barrier though. It was Kevin. One day, after a particularly tough training session, you were sitting on the bench catching your breath while Jey was nearby, lost in his thoughts as usual. You glared when you saw Kevin coming over to you.

"This is a private gym, Kevin. I knew you were stupid, but I didnt think you were illiterate." You spat at him. Kevin wasn't fazed by your reaction, instead coming closer to you.

"You're right. This is a private gym for the Bloodline. So what are you doing here?" Kevin huffed at you. This had to be a mistake, there's no way you would join the faction that tried to take him out.

"I am here as part of the Bloodline. So you need to leave." You stood up, facing Kevin with determination in your eyes. The tension in the air was palpable, and it seemed like a confrontation was inevitable.

Jey, who had been nearby, observing the interaction, raised a cautious eyebrow at Kevin's approach and your response. He had seen you and Kevin exchange words before, and it was clear there was some animosity between you two. He and everyone knew you guys were ex-best friends, and Jey wasn't one to meddle in others' business, especially when it came to personal disputes, but something about this situation made him uneasy.

Kevin glanced between you and Jey, his expression morphing into one of disbelief. "You?" He scoffed, his tone laced with incredulity. "Part of the Bloodline? That's a joke, right?"

When you didn't respond, he chuckled sarcasatically, like he couldn't believe it. "Are you kidding me? Are you stupid? Damn, I was right when I said that Ronda knocked some marbles outta your head. You really think that joining them is a good idea? They are nothing but manipulative shitheads."

You rolled your eyes, unamused by Kevin's insults. Typical Kevin, never congratulating you on anything good you do or are a part of. "You don't know anything about what's going on, Kevin. So just leave."

But Kevin seemed undeterred, his voice rising slightly. "They're using you, Y/N. Can't you see that? You're better than this. Don't let them drag you down into their mess. They'll chew you up and spit you out like they do with everyone else."

You tried to ignore him and go back to lifting your weights, but Kevin snatched the dumbbell from your hand, causing you to stand up abruptly, a mix of frustration and anger evident on your face. "Give it back, Kevin," you demanded firmly, your tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on with you! Are you this demented that you can't see when you're being played?"

"Seems like the only demented person here is you!" You tried to grab he dumbbell back, but Kevin held onto it firmly, a stubborn look on his face. The tension in the gym escalated as your argument continued, both of you getting more heated with your words.

"They are just using you!"

"Of course you would know about using people, that's all you ever do!"

"God, you are so much like Sami! So fucking naive and stubborn!"

The mention of Sami seemed to strike a nerve with you. You clenched your jaw, your expression turning stony as you took a step closer to Kevin.

"I told you that I'm done with you and Sami," you seethed, your voice low and filled with a dangerous edge. "So give me back the dumbbell and get the fuck out of here, and the fuck out of my life."

"Im just trying to protect you, damn it!"

"She don't need your protecting no more, she got the Bloodline." The both of you turned at the sudden interruption, and you looked up at Jey who moved in front of you and was glaring at Kevin with an intense gaze, his tone firm and commanding.

"Excuse me? This doesn't concern you, so just leave us alone." Kevin glared at Jey, not appreciating his interference. To him, Jey was just another member of the faction that he despised and that was using you.

Jey narrowed his eyes slightly, his stance unwavering and his voice steady as he spoke. "She's a part of the Bloodline now, Kevin. It does concern me. Give her the dumbbell, and leave us alone."

Kevin stared back at Jey for a moment, his eyes flickering between Jey's imposing stance and your determined one, and you thought that a fight would break out between them, but eventually, he dropped the dumbbell with a scoff. "

Fine. But don't think that I'm letting them take you from me." With that threat, Kevin shot one last glare at both of you before storming out of the gym.

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of the confrontation easing off your shoulders. Turning to Jey, who was still standing in front of you, you were taken aback by the protective stance he had taken during the argument.

"Thank you, Jey," you said softly, grateful for his intervention. "I appreciate you stepping in."

Jey shrugged slightly, his guard still up but a hint of something softer in his expression. "Didn't seem right to let him get in your face like that," he muttered, his voice gruff but underlying concern evident in his tone.

You nodded in understanding, feeling a sense of camaraderie in the way Jey had backed you up. "Yeah, he's always been like that." You chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood. "Always thinks he knows what's best for me."

Jey's lips twitched into a small smile, a glimmer of warmth breaking through his guarded demeanor. "Sounds familiar,"he replied cryptically, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

He shifted his weight slightly, glancing around the gym before his gaze settled back on you. "You good?"

You nodded, offering Jey a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks again." There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you, before Jey cleared his throat, a hint of uncertainty in his voice as he spoke up. "Listen, I know I ain't been the most welcoming or talkative. Just... didn't feel like my place to get involved with your business. But.. I gotta ask you something."

You paused, curious about what Jey wanted to ask you. "Sure, what's up?" you replied, your tone inviting despite the underlying tension from the earlier confrontation with Kevin.

Jey hesitated for a moment, his guarded expression faltering slightly as he glanced away before meeting your gaze again. "Why you ain't text me back?"

You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected question. "Why didn't I text you back?" You echoed, surprised by the sudden inquiry. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, unsure of how to respond to Jey's question. After a beat, you offered an honest answer, wanting to address his concern no matter how embarrassing it would be.

"It wasn't intentional, Jey," you began, your voice gentle as you met his gaze. "Everything happened so suddenly, and I needed time to myself. I didn't mean to ignore you or anyone else. And Seth... you know my boyfriend, right?" Jey nodded, and you continued, "He saw it and kind of got...don't laugh... jealous about you reaching out, so he asked me not to reply to anyone outside my close circle."

You chuckled nervously, feeling a bit embarrassed admitting it. A boyfriend shouldn't have an issue with you talking to whoever you wanted, but Seth wasn't a good boyfriend, as much as you didn't want to admit it. "I didn't want to make things worse by explaining, so I just... didn't respond to anyone. I'm sorry if I offended you."

Jey raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting to one of understanding mixed with a hint of surprise. "Oh." Jey nodded slowly, processing your explanation, a small smile threatening to break out on his face. He aint even do anything yet your man was getting all jealous.

You spotted the smile and groaned, holding your hand in your face in embarrassment. "You said you wouldn't laugh!" you protested, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Jey chuckled lightly, the smile finally breaking through as he shook his head at the sight of you being bashful. " "I ain't laughin', I'm just... surprised. Seth really got jealous over that?" He shook his head in disbelief before looking back at you with a more serious expression.

You let go of your face and looked up at him, shrugging and Jey felt his heart hurt slightly when your smile was replaced with a frown at the memory of your relationship.

"It's okay, Y/N. You ain't gotta apologize. Don't worry about it. It's in the past." Jey reassured you, his tone gentle as he placed a hand on your shoulder briefly, a gesture of comfort. "I get it, you needed your space. I just wanted to know you were okay." Seth clearly wasn't a good guy if he was getting you all worked up like this, clearly not appreciating the literal goddess in his life that was you. Roman was right, Seth really was an idiot.

You offered Jey a grateful smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding. "Thanks, Jey. I appreciate that." Despite the earlier tension, you felt a certain warmth in this moment of connection with him.

Jey nodded, a small smile still playing on his lips before that guarded expression returned. "Anytime. Just... next time, let me know you're taking a break, yeah?" he said, a hint of playful teasing in his voice before his expression turned serious again. "I'll see you around."

With that, Jey nodded at you before walking away, leaving you to contemplate the unexpected exchange.

And now, you were getting ready to have another training session with him and hopefully break through his tough demeanor. As you were lacing up your sneakers, the door opened, and in popped in Becky Lynch. You smiled at the sight of one of your closest friends, who was also now the Raw Women's Champion- you couldn't be more proud of her.

But that smile dropped into a frown at the sight of her in near tears, and when her eyes locked onto yours, they seemed to fill with more emotion.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concerned as you stood up and walked over to her, opening up your arms to her for a hug.

Becky rushed into your arms, her body shaking slightly as she held onto you tightly, her voice muffled against your shoulder. "I-I can't tell you."

You furrowed your brow, concern deepening as you gently rubbed her back. "You can tell me anything, you know that." You brought the both of you to the couch and sat down, waiting for Becky to calm down enough to speak. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and looked at you with teary eyes.

"You're gonna hate me. God, you're so nice and understanding, and I'm about to ruin it." Becky wiped her tears, trying to steady her voice as she spoke.

"No, you're not." You tried to hug her again, offering reassurance. "Whatever it is, Becky, I won't hate you. Just tell me what's going on."

Becky pulled back slightly, her eyes locking onto yours, a mix of guilt and pain in her gaze. "Seth and I have been sneaking behind your back."

Your heart stopped and your mind went blank. You had a million thoughts rushing through your head, but you couldn't seem to process any of them. The silence lingered between you and Becky as the weight of her confession sank in.

"What?" Your voice turned cold but was barely above a whisper as you processed the words Becky had just confessed. It felt like the ground beneath you had crumbled, leaving you suspended in a state of disbelief.

Becky winced, her gaze filled with remorse and regret. "Yes, we've been seeing each other," Becky admitted, her voice wavering with guilt. "It started a while back. We didn't mean for it to happen, it just... did."

Your throat tightened, and you felt a surge of anger and hurt swirling within you. You had always supported Becky through anything and everything. When she needed someone, you were there for her, yet she betrayed your trust in the worst way possible. And she came in here and hugged you and tried to get your comfort when she was the one who caused you such pain.

It felt like a punch to the gut. You were used. You always gave too much and received betrayal in return. You pulled away from Becky, your expression a mix of shock, hurt, and anger.

"How long?" The question escaped your lips before you could stop it, your voice barely audible as you fought to maintain composure.

Becky sighed, her expression pained. "Please, don't make me hurt you even mo-"

"How. Long." Any traces of the kind, caring tone had vanished from your voice, replaced by an icy coldness that mirrored the betrayal and hurt you felt. Your eyes bore into Becky's, demanding an answer despite the turmoil of emotions swirling within you.

Becky sighed heavily, looking down as if unable to meet your gaze. "A few months. I'm so sorry, Y/N. We never meant to hurt you. It just... happened."

"You never meant to hurt me." you repeated, feeling a surge of disbelief and anger rising within you. "While I was dealing with everything, you and Seth... behind my back, and you never meant to hurt me!?" You shouted , your voice cracking with the weight of betrayal and hurt. The pain cut deep, and the sense of betrayal overwhelmed you.

Becky's eyes filled with more tears, her voice shaky as she tried to explain. "It was a mistake, Y/N. Please, I never wanted this to happen. I was just confused, and I know that's not an excuse, but I never wanted to hurt you."

You shook your head in disbelief, feeling anger and heartbreak intertwine within you. "You knew what I was going through. You knew how much I was struggling, and yet, you did this." Your voice wavered as you struggled to comprehend the magnitude of the betrayal. "You came to me for comfort, you acted like nothing was wrong, and all the while... this was happening."

Becky reached out to you, her expression desperate and remorseful. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. Please, I never wanted to hurt you. You are so sweet and kind, I didn't want to tell you because I knew how much this would hurt you, so I thought keeping it to myself would solve that, but I couldn't live with the guilt." She waited for your answer, but when you didn't respond, Becky paused, her eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Please..."

You looked up at Becky, your vision clouded by a mixture of pain, anger, and betrayal. Her desperate plea for forgiveness echoed in your ears and fueled your anger. It was rare that you would get angry, because you couldn't control yourself when it happened, but this was an exception.

How dare she act sad when she 's the one who caused this pain? How could she deceive you like this?

You stood up from the couch, distancing yourself from Becky, your eyes red with anger. "You're right, I am sweet and kind." You got up and closed the door, making Becky's eyebrows furrow in concern.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

You ignored her and slowly made your way to her, and Becky could clearly see the anger in your usually sweet eyes. It was terrifying. She realized too late what you were about to do. "Maybe that should change. Right. Now."

Jey sucked his teeth in concern as he made his way down the hallway, checking his phone to see if you messaged him back. You were 20 minutes late, so naturally he got concerned and annoyed at the fact that you were late. Maybe you and Kevin got into another fight? The thought made him walk faster to your locker room.

As he approached the hallway it was in, he heard banging and raised voices and saw a crowd that was surrounding something. Immediately Jey realized it was your locker room and a knot formed in his stomach.

He quickly pushed through the crowd and saw you holding Becky by the hair and slamming her against the wall, anger etched deeply into your expression, and Seth trying and failing to separate the two of you.

"You're sorry, Becky!?" You screamed into her face, slamming her into the wall again, punching her over and over again, the anger clouding your judgement. Your nails digged into her skin, and tears streamed down Becky's face as she tried to shield herself from the blows.

Seth tried to intervene, but you grabbed him and slammed him onto the floor, hitting him low before going back to Becky. "The both of you mean nothing to me! Nothing!"

Jey's heart sank at the sight before him. He immediately rushed forward, trying to pry you away from Becky. The look on your face scared him. It was a side of you he had never seen before. "Y/N, stop! Stop it!"

You were consumed by rage, blinded by the betrayal and hurt that coursed through you. It took all of Jey's strength to pull you away from Becky, holding you back as you continued to struggle against his grip, your fists clenched, yearning to lash out again.

You tried to claw at Becky, grabbing her hair but Jey quickly grabbed your hands and restrained you, trying his best to calm you down and keep you from causing more harm. "Y/N, calm down! Please, calm down!"

Becky was visibly shaken, tears streaming down her face as she held her head, the impact against the wall still ringing in her ears. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please, I never meant to hurt you."

Your adrenaline-fueled rage had consumed you, and you tried to fight off Jey, but he dragged the both of you away from the chaotic scene. He had to use all his strength to hold you back, your struggle showing no sign of ceasing. "Y/N, stop, it's enough! It's over!"

The commotion had attracted the attention of security, who swiftly arrived to help Jey calm the situation. They assisted in separating you from Becky and Seth, guiding each of you to different areas to diffuse the tension.

You were seething with anger and pain, your emotions swirling into a maelstrom that clouded your thoughts. Jey kept a firm grip on you, trying to talk you down. "Y/N, look at me. You need to breathe. You're not thinking straight."

You were too far gone to be responsive to Jey's words. All you could think of was Becky and Seth kissing each other, betraying your trust, and the way they had deceived you. The hurt was overwhelming, clouding any rational thought.

Jey continued to hold onto you, trying his best to calm your raging emotions. "Look at me."

You were shaking with anger and pain, your eyes blazing with an intensity that Jey had never seen before. He knew that trying to reason with you in this state would be futile, but he had to do something to snap you out of this anger-fueled haze.

He grabbed you and hauled you both into the nearest locker room and sat you down on the couch. You were shaking and tried to stand up to make a break for it, but Jey blocked the door, firmly keeping you inside. "Y/N, listen to me. You're not thinking clearly. You need to breathe and calm down."

You glared at Jey, your chest heaving with anger and hurt. "Let me go, Jey. I need to... I need to..."

"You need to calm down first," Jey interrupted, his voice firm but filled with concern. You tried to push past him, but he wouldn't budge.

Your hands trembled with rage, and you felt an overwhelming urge to lash out again, to confront Becky and Seth, to make them understand the pain they'd caused. But Jey's presence and his calming tone managed to break through the fog of your emotions, albeit slightly.

"You ain't going nowhere, Y/N. What you gon' do is sit ya pretty ass down and some deep breaths for me, drink some water, and try to calm yourself." Jey instructed, his voice commanding yet filled with genuine care.

"I can't calm down!" You shouted, the pain evident in your eyes as you tried to push him one last time, until he managed to gently restrain you, forcing you to sit back down on the couch.

Jey sat beside you, maintaining a firm yet comforting grip on your shoulders. "Yes, you can. Take deep breaths with me, okay? In... and out." He demonstrated the rhythm, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, encouraging you to follow suit.

"B-but they-"

Jey gently interrupted you with a reassuring tone. "They ain't worth your peace, Y/N. Right now, you need to focus on you. I know it hurts, but you can't let them see you break. They ain't worth it. You are worth more than that."

You took in a shaky breath, trying to emulate Jey's breathing pattern. Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes and attempted to regain control over your emotions. Gradually, your breathing began to steady, the adrenaline slowly subsiding.

"That's it." Jey encouraged softly, noticing your attempts to calm down. "Keep breathing. You're doing great." Whenever the anger seemed to rise again, Jey would gently remind you to focus on your breath, guiding you through the calming exercise until your breathing regulated, and the storm of emotions began to ebb away, leaving behind a heavy, lingering ache.

As the initial shock and fury lessened, tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Jey sensed the shift in your emotions and pulled you into a comforting hug. "It's okay, Y/N. Let it out. You've been through a lot."

You clung to Jey, the dam finally breaking as you sobbed, the weight of betrayal and hurt cascading out of you. Jey held you close, providing a steady presence and a comforting embrace as you allowed the flood of emotions to pour out.

"T-They fucking went behind my back," you choked out between sobs, your voice raw with pain and betrayal. "I trusted them, Jey. I trusted them with everything."

Jey rubbed your back soothingly, offering silent support as you let out the pent-up emotions as he tried to not get angry himself. He would defiantly be beating Seth's ass after this. "I know, Y/N. I know," he murmured gently, his voice filled with empathy.

After what felt like an eternity, your tears eventually subsided into soft sniffles. Jey released you from the hug but kept a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "You did good, calming down like that," he commended softly.

You nodded, feeling emotionally drained but slightly more composed. "Thank you, Jey," you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that." You had an embarrassed expression, feeling a mix of shame and gratitude for Jey's support. "Now you know why I usually try to not get angry, cause I'm scared of what it can make me do."

Jey gently shook his head, offering a comforting smile. "Nah, don't apologize. I get it. You honestly reacted better than I would have."

At your hearty chuckle, Jey smiled warmly. "Hey, I'm being serious. If that were me, I'd probably have caused more damage." He chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension. "But seriously, you did good by calming down. Shows strength."

"Yeah right," You retorted, grabbing the drink from Jey's hand and taking a long sip, grateful for the hydration after the emotional turmoil. "I felt like I was losing it back there."

"That's not a bad thing, y'know?" At your quizzical gaze, Jey continued. "Feeling your emotions, letting 'em out, that's normal. And I know you usually like to be the sweetest person in the room, but that's also letting people walk all over you."

Jey paused, choosing his words carefully. "Jimmy is the same way, y'know? He is the kindest soul, but sometimes folks take advantage of that. You gotta find the balance, Y/N. If you wanna be in the Bloodline, you can't let nobody mess with you. You gotta let your inner rage out, otherwise ain't nobody gonna respect you or see you as an equal."

You sighed, capping the water bottle and nodding slowly at Jey's words. "Yeah, I know. It's just... it's hard to find that balance sometimes. I don't want to hurt people, you know? I try to be understanding and kind, but then things like this happen." You glanced away, still processing the whirlwind of emotions.

"I know you don't," Jey reassured, patting your shoulder gently. "But sometimes, folks need to see that you ain't to be messed with. It's about respect, and right now, you need to focus on you."

You nodded, knowing he was right. You always tried to be the peacekeeper, but it was more of a weakness than a strength. "You're right, but when I get mad I tend to lose control. That's why I try to not get angry. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Jey gave you a sympathetic and understanding look. "I get it. But you gotta stop being this goody two-shoes all the time. It's eating you up inside. You gotta learn to stand up for yourself and let people know when they cross the line. That anger? You gotta embrace it cause it's a part of you.

You sighed, feeling torn between your innate nature and the advice Jey was offering. "I'll try, Jey. But it's hard. I don't want to become someone I'm not."

"You won't. I won't let you." You blinked at the kindness and conviction in Jey's tone. "I know I haven't been the most welcoming person, but that's cause I have trouble opening up to people. But I see you, Y/N. I see how much you care, how much you try. How you are loyal to the core." Jey paused, his expression softening. "And I know you'll be loyal to the Bloodline, right?"

You didn't hesitate to nod in response. "Of course, Jey. Always." Despite the whirlwind of emotions, your loyalty was unwavering. "I appreciate you opening up to me, and I can promise you that I won't betray that trust."

Jey smiled, satisfied with your response. "Good. I need you to be loyal, because... I really like having you around. But I can't have you 'round if you ain't loyal to the family. And I know you and K.O got some history..."

"That's in the past." You interjected, trying to dismiss any concerns Jey might have. "Kevin and I have our differences, but I am done with him and anyone else that is a problem for us. I promise you." You gently laid a hand on Jey's arm, reassuring him of your commitment.

Jey stayed silent for a moment, staring at you as if he could see inside your soul, seeing if your words held true. After a moment, he nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Okay. But it ain't up to me if that's true, it's up to the chief." You gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before his phone dinged and he glanced at the notification.

"It's the Chief, he wants to see you." Jey pocketed his phone before holding out his hand to you, helping you stand up from the couch.

You nodded, accepting Jey's assistance as you stood up, feeling a little more composed than earlier.

"Thanks, Jey. Walk me to him?" You asked, feeling a bit more confident asking considering he told you he likes you now. Jey gave you an affirming nod. "Sure thing. Let's go."

As the two of you walked through the corridors, Jey kept a close eye on you, making sure you were holding up okay after the intense emotional outburst.

When you reached Roman's office, before you grabbed the door handle, Jey grabbed your hand and spoke in a hushed tone, his voice serious yet supportive. His hand felt soft and comforting as he gripped yours gently. "Y/N, I got your back. Just be honest with the Chief, alright? He can see through lies. Just tell him what happened."

You met Jey's gaze, appreciating the sincerity in his eyes. "I will, Jey. Thank you, really." With a deep breath, you nodded to signal that you were ready to face Roman. Jey gave your hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it, standing back as you opened the door and entered Roman's office.

Roman glanced up from his desk, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern as he noticed your state. "Y/N, come in." He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Care to tell me what happened?"

You internally winced at Roman's tone. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts before speaking. "It's Becky and Seth, Chief." Your voice wavered slightly as the flood of emotions threatened to resurface. "They've been... they've been sneaking around, behind my back. And I just exploded."

Roman's brow furrowed as he observed your demeanor, his expression turning serious. "Explain."

You recounted the events that had unfolded, detailing Becky's confession and the subsequent emotional turmoil you'd experienced. Roman listened attentively, his expression unreadable as he took in every word you spoke.

"And you lost control," Roman summarized, his tone stern yet controlled.

You nodded, feeling a sense of guilt for having lost your composure. "Yes, Chief. I'm sorry, I just... I couldn't handle it."

"No, you handled it perfectly." You furrowed your brow in confusion at Roman's unexpected response.

"Look, I am sorry for the emotional turmoil you are experiencing right now, make no mistake about it." Roman clarified, his tone softer now. "But this angry, out of control, fiery and real version of you is what I wanted out of you. What I am working to get out of you. Not the meek and docile version. That version isn't strong, it's weak. I want you to be strong. I need you to be strong."

Roman leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful. "I told you that I wanted you to join the Bloodline because I needed someone to be loyal, strong, and willing to stand their ground. You proved that today. I didn't ask you to join for a moment. I didn't ask you to join because I thought you were just going to be another face in the group. I asked you to join because I saw something in you. And what I saw today? That's what I've been waiting for."

You were taken aback by Roman's words, his perspective catching you off guard. You expected reprimand, not validation for your display of raw emotion. "Though attacking without running it by me is not the usual protocol, I appreciate the fire in you, Y/N. Loyalty and strength are the cornerstones of the Bloodline. Today is an exception."

Roman leaned forward, his gaze intense as he met your eyes. "But you won't do that again without my permission, you understand me?"

You nodded quickly, Roman's tone making the gravity of the situation clear. Yes, Chief. I won't let it happen again without your say-so."

Roman leaned back, his expression shifting to a more contemplative one. "Now, as for Becky and Seth..." He paused, his gaze piercing through you. "They've made their bed. But that doesn't mean we let this slide."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of trepidation and curiosity about what Roman might do next. "What do you want me to do?"

Roman leaned forward again, his tone low but firm. "Remember the test of loyalty, Y/N?" Roman's voice was a low rumble, filled with authority. "This is yours. I want you to observe them. Gain their trust. Make them believe everything is fine, that you've forgiven them."

Your eyes widened slightly at the magnitude of the task. It was a test of your loyalty and acting skills. "But Chief, I'm not sure I can do that. After what they did..."

Roman's gaze hardened, his voice brooking no argument. "This is a test, Y/N. You wanted to be part of the Bloodline, and this is what it entails. I need to know you're capable of playing the game when needed. You don't have to forgive them. You don't even have to mean a word of what you say to them. But you'll do it for the family. Understood?"

You nodded, albeit reluctantly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Yes, Chief. I'll do it."

Roman leaned forward again, his tone low but firm. "I want you to show them where their place is in the hierarchy of the Bloodline. They've disrespected you and the family. At Elimination Chamber, I need you to take that title from Becky. Make her think it's a non-personal rivalry, make her believe she's going up against just another challenger. But I want you to make it personal. Show her the consequence of betrayal. Show her what happens when you mess with us. Mess with you, my right hand woman."

You wanted to argue with him, but the taste of revenge was bittersweet on your tongue. However, you couldn't deny the commanding presence of Roman's orders. "I understand, Chief. I'll make sure to handle it."

"Good." Roman's tone softened slightly. "I want that title, Y/N. That title belongs with us, with the Bloodline. Show Becky why betraying the family has consequences. Make her feel it. And remember, this is only the beginning of your test."

You shot Roman a confused look. "What do you mean, Chief?"

Roman leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady as he regarded you. "Becky and Seth crossed a line, and their actions won't go unpunished. Jey will handle Seth at Elimination Chamber as well as the other competitors- Kevin, Sami, Daniel Bryan and Cesaro."

Roman gave you a knowing look when he mentioned your two former best friends. It seemed Roman had devised a plan, a grander scheme beyond just your personal feud. "But at the end of Elimination Chamber, you will understand what I mean. You will begin to see the bigger picture. This is your initiation into the family, and it starts with showing your loyalty and strength. Do you understand?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of Roman's words and the task he had assigned you. "Yes, Chief. I'll do what needs to be done."

Roman seemed satisfied with your response. "Good. I trust you'll handle this accordingly." He leaned back in his chair, signaling the end of your conversation. "I know you have a big heart. But trust me, this isn't about revenge. This is about power and control. This is about securing our dominance in this business. There are no good guys or bad guys, there are just humans who have been betrayed and those who betrayed. And sometimes you have to hurt before you get justice."

Roman's words echoed in your mind, leaving a sense of determination mingled with the weight of the task ahead. He was right. You need to be focused on what's best for you instead of what you think is right. Morals had no high ground here, only the will to survive and dominate. And you wanted to dominate.

"Thank you, Chief. I won't let you down," you replied, steeling yourself for the challenges that lay ahead.

Roman nodded in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable yet reassuring. "You're dismissed, Y/N. Focus on what you need to do. The family comes first."

With a nod, you rose from the chair, feeling a mix of determination and apprehension about the tasks ahead. You left Roman's office, the weight of his instructions heavy on your shoulders.

As you exited Roman's office, Jey caught your eye, and you shared a brief glance. He approached you, a serious yet supportive look in his eyes. "You good?"

You nodded, albeit with a hint of uncertainty. "Yeah, I'll manage."

Jey placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, offering you a reassuring smile. "You got this, Y/N. Just remember, do what you gotta do. Roman's got a plan. He's doing this for the family. The Bloodline. For you. You have to do whatever he asked of you. You have to obey, or you'll get hurt. I can't let you get hurt." It seemed like Jey didn't plan on saying the last sentence out, but he didn't waver. Instead he paused, gauging your reaction.

You nodded, acknowledging Jey's advice, and reciprocated with a grateful expression. "Thanks, Jey. I appreciate it, appreciate you." You thought of hugging him, but decided against it, not wanting to make Jey uncomfortable.

Instead, you gave Jey a thankful nod and a small smile.

Jey patted your shoulder once more before stepping back. You're welcome. Take care of yourself, alright? I'll see you tomorrow, we can grab some food. Lord knows you need it, I haven't seen you eat any snacks at the back." Jey joked lightly, trying to lift your spirits.

You chuckled softly, grateful for Jey's attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll try not to starve, Jey. Thanks for looking out for me."

He gave you a playful nod before stepping back, letting you proceed on your path. "Of course. See you tomorrow, girl."

As walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within you. The weight of Roman's orders and the task at hand lay heavy on your mind. The idea of deceiving Becky and Seth, all the while planning your revenge, felt conflicting. But you knew what was at stake - your loyalty to the Bloodline and the need to assert your place within it. Could you really act like everything was fine when, in reality, you were seething with anger and hurt?

You spotted Becky about to leave, and decided you could.

"Hey, Becky!" She looked up at her name being called, and you approached her with a composed demeanor, despite the turmoil within you. She seemed scared when you came closer to her, as if expecting you to physically lash out again. However, you maintained your calm, albeit somewhat strained, composure.

"Hey, Y/N," Becky greeted cautiously, her voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a deep breath, trying to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside you. "I just wanted to say that I appreciate your honesty earlier. It took a lot of courage to confess." The words felt hollow leaving your lips, but you knew this was part of the task Roman had assigned.

Becky looked surprised by your response, her eyes darting with uncertainty. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you. It's eating me up inside."

You gave her a small, forced smile. "I understand, Becky. I was angry earlier, but I took some time to calm down, and I realized that I appreciate you coming clean."

Your voice sounded composed, almost unnaturally so, as you forced yourself to maintain a calm façade. "Is Seth okay? I hit him when I was angry."

Becky seemed taken aback by your composed demeanor, but she nodded, trying to hide her surprise. "He's fine. Just a little shaken up, but he'll be okay." She paused, studying your face for any signs of the anger she had witnessed earlier. "Are you... okay, Y/N?"

You nodded, masking your true emotions behind a façade of calmness. "I'm fine, Becky. Just needed some time to cool off." The words felt like a lie, but you knew you had to play your part in this act.

"I am hurt, but you are one of my closest friends, and I don't want out friendship to end like this, Becks." You forced a smile, hoping it appeared genuine.

Becky's expression softened with a hint of relief. "I'm really sorry, Y/N. I hope we can work through this somehow. I hate that I hurt you."

You nodded, trying to maintain the charade of forgiveness. "I'm sure we'll figure something out. How about I ride with you to the next show tonight? We can talk more then, if you want."

Becky looked surprised at your offer, clearly not expecting this response. "Uh, yeah, sure. That would be great, actually."

You nodded, trying to hide the turmoil within you as you made plans to continue this act. "Alright then, lemme grab my stuff and we'll be on our way." You tried to keep your tone neutral, not wanting to reveal the depths of your true feelings.

Before you left, you walked closer to Becky and wrapped her in a tight but short hug, trying to appear as if everything was normal. "I'll see you outside in a bit, okay?"

Becky returned the hug tentatively, still wary after the earlier altercation. "Yeah, see you."

With that, you turned away, your façade slipping for a moment as you clenched your fists in frustration and pain. Unbeknownst to you, Paul was lurking in the shadows, reporting to Roman and making sure you weren't acting out of line.

"Everything's going to plan, my Tribal Chief."

Roman responded after a couple of seconds, smirking to himself as he laid back in his chair.

"Good. I knew she could do it. Becky and Seth are first, Sami is a non-variable, and mark my words, Kevin is next.

Do you think she can follow through with our plan at Elimination Chamber, my tribal chief? Becky is one thing, Kevin is another.

A flurry of bubbles appeared on Paul's phone for a moment before Roman replied, his message filled with unwavering confidence.

"She will. Don't doubt your Tribal Chief. Y/N might have a big heart, but she knows where her loyalty lies. And soon, everyone will understand what happens when you cross the Bloodline."

And soon they will.

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 1 month

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✮⋆˙ april showers bring may flowers; jason grace x florist! reader blurb

content: jason grace x florist! reader blurb warning: too soft for its own good, kinda angsty over unrequited love but like...yall get together in the end its fine author's note: get it??? april showers...bc bc he's the son of the god of storms??? get it??? pls get it, im begging. this for our fav girl @ivyy-covered-walls everyone congratulate her on her big girl job in the comments frfr. written with wildflowers and barely playing and repeat, ill admit it, i have no shame. also, girly, i only went with jason bc of the title, frankie would have been lovely in this situation!!

jason grace had become a regular at your flower shop without ever really buying anything. i mean, he always bought the honey sticks you sold at the counter, but that's it. he never got flowers themselves, which always made you wonder why the blonde boy came to your store. but you couldn't bring yourself to ask, in fear he'd stop coming around with his pretty face. typically, he'd ask you questions about the flowers and you'd yap and rave about them, so lost in your words that you didn't notice the way he stared at you like you were the best thing in the world - no, like you were the prettiest of flowers. today, you walked in, and you didn't even have to look up to know it was the grace boy. he ran on a schedule, something about a military camp his mom sent him to or whatever.

"if, hypothetically, i wanted to win a pretty girl over, what flowers should i buy?"

"oh."

you quickly picked your jaw up off the ground, trying to ignore the crushing of your heart inside your chest. stupid, stupid girl, you thought, pretending to be grabbing an order form from the back but you were really trying to stop yourself from crying. of course he had a girlfriend or he was working on getting a girlfriend. just your luck, the first guy that you've found attractive and kind in months, and he's already devoted to someone else. you sniffed, determined to pull yourself together, before marching back out, plastering a fake smile onto your lips, hoping he couldn't see through it. from the concern that flashed into his eyes, you knew he could see right through you.

"roses are pretty standard. we just got a new bundle of some lovely pink ones and-" you started, your eyes glued to the order form, wanting - for the first time since you met him - to get jason grace out of your store as soon as possible.

"what would you like?" he asked, tilting his head in a disgustingly adorable way as your heart plummeted further into your stomach. you swallowed down a scoff, looking away from him again and taking a deep breath to calm yourself down.

"tulips. i like tulips. there in season right now, too. super pretty," you muttered, glancing up at him, trying to hide the fact that you were completely dying. jason pretended to think it over before nodding towards you.

"some of those, please."

"color?" you asked, knowing you basically had anything he could want in the back fridge.

"whatever your favorite is," jason replied with a slightly strained smile and you couldn't keep your scoff down this time, turning on your heels and marching to the back. you walked into the large walk in fridge, pulling the door shut behind you. you took a few breaths before screaming, knowing it to be soundproof from past incidents with annoying customers. then you picked up the bundles of orange, red, and white tulips. you grabbed some filler flowers as you went, but tulip bouquets really didn't need a ton of them. you put together the flowers in the back even though you were really supposed to put them together in the front, your heartbreaking at the thought of jason giving them to some other girl. some other girl was going to get your favorite flowers from your favorite boy and you just had to be okay with that???

"here. its thirty five," you told jason, sliding the, admittedly, beautiful bouquet over to him. you frowned, wishing you hadn't made them so pretty. no girl could say 'no' to a guy that handsome with pretty flowers on top.

"t-thanks," hummed jason, handing over the cash with shaky hands that you pretended not to notice. of course he was nervous, he must really like this girl, which isn't you-

"they're- they're for you, you know," jason stated after a few seconds of just standing there. you stopped, brows furrowing before looking up at jason, completely confused.

"what?"

"the flowers. i- i- i bought them for you. gods, this is the last time i take romance advice from leo," jason repeated, muttering that last part to himself but you vaguely caught it. he then held the flowers out to you, over the counter that you just passed them to him over.

"i really like you, y/n. i like how much you love your job, i like when you rambled about the meaning of flowers, i like how you dance with the broom when you think no one is looking. yeah, i just- yeah, i like you," jason rambled, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck.

"youre so sweet, jason," you hummed, holding the flowers close to your chest and looking at the boy with wide eyes. jason flushed at the compliment, beaming a smile at you in shyness.

"can i take you out sometime?"

"ive got a break in ten."

"good. waiting any longer would kill me, i think."

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #return to sender ౨ৎ #hoo #heroes of olympus x reader #jason grace #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x reader

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jebewonmorelike · 1 year

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Devil by the Whiteboard

wc: 4.2k (so i was way off lmao) pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: MEAN!hanbin he is not nice so be forewarned but the ending suggests he can possibly be fixed maybe but no promises; being alone with a mean person in a hallway; light swears; angst but only towards the end; i wrote that they go to an academy but it could be a university it doesn't change the story summary: booksmart!reader is ready to finally win the scholastic decathlon, but a series of coincidental unfortunate events that couldn't possibly have anything to do with studentbodypresident!hanbin threaten to ruin their chances once more. ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys i did it, i finished my masterpiece. i hope you like it. academic play on the title of the txt song, i know-- clever. the scholastic decathlon is inspired by the one in high school musical. also pls don't make fun of me for not knowing how science or chemistry works, i was literally advance in science but my chem teacher in high school was on academic probation for being such a bad teacher and we all nearly failed our regional exams so. anyway pls excuse this or lightly roast me in the tags or comments. i hope you enjoy mean!shanbin... this one might need a part 2... or a prequel. or both. I'M SO EXCITED I FINISHED THIS OMFG I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

(part two— “i didn’t think you had it in you”)

It's 7 P.M. on a Friday and there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be than at the Regional Scholastic Decathlon Finals. You're about to partake in your favorite extracurricular activity: more academics. There's only one thing you wish you could change...

"I'm so honored to be competing as a team leader in the Regional Scholastic Decathlon Finals," Hanbin says into the handheld microphone. "And I'm even more honored to be competing against who I believe to be the most worthy opponents."

You fight the urge to gag at the Student Body President standing next to you on the makeshift stage.

"And you know each other well, I've been told," the announcer adds with a laugh. "You and (Y/N) are something of academic rivals, yes?"

Hanbin laughs, smile lines on his cheeks only adding to his innocent, clean-cut image. "In the most respectful way. Wouldn't you agree, (Y/N)?"

There are, in truth, very few things you'd agree less with. Coming from a private academy for gifted students, there were several different Scholastic Decathlon teams at your school. The Green Team, the Red Team and the Yellow Team had all already been eliminated this semester, which left the Blue Team (led by Hanbin) and the Pink Team (led by you).

There had also been a new Purple Team formed at the beginning of this year, but they were disbanded when the headmaster found out the "experiments" they were conducting in the science labs were a bit unorthodox.

You honestly weren't sure how much of a "worthy opponent" the Pink Team was at this rate. The Blue Team had won Regionals for three semesters straight and it didn't seem like their streak would end any time soon...

Not with Sung Hanbin on their side.

You glance at the walking, talking cinnamon roll standing next to you and wish fervently that all his teeth would fall out. "Right. Respectful," you chime quietly into your own microphone.

"And (Y/N)! It seems this is always where the Pink Team meets its demise under your leadership," the announcer notes, a bit too happily if you're being honest. "What makes you think you can beat Hanbin this time?"

The audience of family, friends, and teachers laughs awkwardly at the dig of a question. You swallow nervously, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you answer.

You and Hanbin were total opposites, both competing for the tile of top student since your first year at the academy. He was friendly, outgoing-- a networker, even. When the election for Student Body President came around each year, there weren't any votes cast for anyone except Sung Hanbin (and you knew that for a fact since you were the one counting them). You were more of a behind-the-scenes overachiever. Acing every class, developing plans and putting them into action, and keeping your head down in the hallways to avoid any unwanted social interaction.

Though President Hanbin had been asked to recite a speech for Teacher's Appreciation Week, it was Secretary (Y/N) who had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning writing it.

"I don't think I can beat Hanbin," you say finally. "But I do think the Pink Team can beat the Blue Team. I think that's what you meant to ask, right?"

There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before Hanbin grins, extending his hand for you to shake. "I couldn't agree more. This event is about our teams, not us. Every team member has worked hard to prove their abilities tonight."

You watch as the audience absolutely melts at the handsome boy's charming smile and his words of camaraderie that were merely a more attractive repackaging of your previous reply. You pull your hand back from his as quickly as possible.

The announcer smiles in admiration at the boy to his right. “You are entirely correct, Hanbin. My mistake. And what a wonderful sentiment for you to share with us.”

It barely even phases you anymore: the hold Hanbin could have on people. Maybe you’d have been captivated too, if you weren’t the one person who--.

“(Y/N)?” The announcer prompts, his tone indicating that this isn’t the first time he called your name. “Any words for your team?”

“Oh,” you mumble, mentally shaking off the embarrassment of daydreaming during a regional competition. "Let's do our best! No matter the outcome, though we will strive for a good one, I'm incredibly proud of the work my amazing team has done so far this year and you all should be as well. Fighting!"

"That's just swell," the announcer replies rather unenthusiastically. "Hanbin?"

Hanbin nods, smiling graciously at the announcer and the crowd. "We've put in so much time and effort this semester and I truly believe our labor of love has blossomed into a winning fruit. And, even on the chance that we don't take this win, I will still be so proud of that fruit that is my amazing team. Fighting!"

The audience applauds and the scream sitting in your throat is now desperately trying to claw its way out. Instead, you just smile.

"Hanbin has such a way with words, doesn't he?" The announcer muses to you.

"He does," you agree politely, muttering under your breath, "If that 'way' is stealing them."

"Then let's get this Regional Final started!" The announcer's words are met with applause as you rejoin your team behind your table.

"We've got this," your teammate Maria encourages, patting you on the back gently. "It's our turn to win!"

You nod, smiling at your team and giving them two thumbs up. "Let's win this! Fighting!"

The first subject of the Super Relay is mathematics, an event where each team's members must rotate in a line to solve a new equation while racing against both their opponent and the clock. As the team leader, you are last in line as you will have the least amount of time left on the clock to solve your equation.

Unfortunately, Sung Hanbin is also at the end of the Blue Team's line. While you're better at economics, history, literature, and geography, Hanbin has a slight leg up on you in the math and science departments. But you had been studying overtime and, even if you didn't manage to beat his time in this round, you were confident you could follow closely enough behind that your team would not be hurting for points.

As soon as both teams are set in their positions, the announcer raises one arm. "On your marks, get set..."

"Go!" He signals, lowering his arm as Maria rushes to the shared whiteboard.

Her equation flashes on the screen and you exhale with relief. Maria was the weakest at maths on your team, so she always went first in relays so the other four team members could make up the time. This equation is fairly straightforward and in her wheelhouse, so you're able to relax for awhile.

Each team member finishes their equation, placing their markers on the whiteboard shelf and joining the end of the line until it's finally your turn to solve. David throws his marker down too harshly and it falls to the ground, rolling to the other team's side.

Hanbin is now racing up to the whiteboard for his team, but on his way he bends down and reaches under the chair that your team's marker has rolled under. After a moment, he resurfaces; marker in hand as he smiles at you sweetly, holding it out to you as you run up to the whiteboard.

"I think you might need this," he jokes politely. You give him a nod and tear off the cap as you quickly memorize your equation, smiling to yourself as you realize you've practiced this exact problem in a workbook just last week.

"And look at this sportsmanship from Sung Hanbin!" The announcer commends. "He's the Student Body President for a reason, folks."

You put your marker to the board, attempting to copy your equation as you ignore the adoring audience's endless mumbling about Hanbin. As you write, however, you suddenly realize that the marker in your hand isn't producing any ink.

Panic flows through you as you scribble it desperately against the whiteboard trying to get the ink flowing again, but your efforts are fruitless. You turn to the announcer in a frenzy.

"Please, my marker isn't working!" You exclaim, looking to the judges' table for assistance.

"It worked fine for the previous team member," the announcer contests, watching as you show him the lack of ink. "But, yes, it seems to be out of ink."

He walks to the judges table as your heart sits in your stomach, terrified that some fluke could completely ruin your team's chances of finally beating the Blue Team. You glance over at Hanbin, who, much to your surprise, is looking back at you concernedly.

A judge brings you another approved marker and you resume solving your equation frantically, despite the judge relaying that you would have ten seconds added to your permitted time due to the mishap.

After about 45 seconds, you check Hanbin's progress and your spirit is renewed when you see how quickly you've caught up to him. You're now only two lines behind him in the equation and you can tell Hanbin is caught off guard by your speed.

After another thirty seconds, Hanbin steps back from the whiteboard and nods as he double checks his math. He circles his answer and lays his marker down on the shelf, running to the stop clock and hitting his team's timer.

The audience cheers at the Blue Team leader's probable victory, but you don't let it throw you. Another nine seconds and your answer is circled on the board as you run to the buzzer and stop the clock. Your team surrounds you excitedly, praising you for your focus during the stressful situation and your noticeably quick solving of the equation.

After the judges finalize the results of the mathematics portion of the Super Relay, they hand the announcer a script card. "The results are in! The winner of the mathematics Super Relay is... The Pink Team!"

Your team starts to cheer, jumping up and down ecstatically around you as you remain absolutely shocked at the unexpected win.

You watch as the announcer's eyebrows furrow confusedly, rereading the script card to check if the result is correct.. "Huh. Mathematics is usually where the Pink Team has the most trouble, but with the additional ten seconds added to their time clock... The Pink Team wins by just 0.45 seconds."

You can't help but notice that the announcer looks concerned by the results, but before you can analyze him further you're pulled into your team's celebration. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Hanbin chewing his lip nervously at the Blue Team's defeat.

You're halfway through the Science portion of the Super Relay when your beaker begins to boil. You watch as it bubbles furiously when it's merely supposed to be simmering on the hotplate.

You hover your hand over the hotplate, panic turning into confusion when you feel a low amount of heat that couldn't possibly be boiling the solution in this beaker. Unfortunately the alternative to a hotplate turned up too high was much worse...

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," you whisper, taking the beaker off of your hotplate with your gloved hands. As expected, the beaker continues to bubble over even after being removed from heat and you stare at the mixture in horror.

Where had you messed up?

You look around at the different tubes on your table, reading the labels of each vial carefully to see if you'd poured in the wrong liquid by mistake. You check each empty tube, verifying that they were in fact the liquids you had thought they were.

But there's one label that catches your eye in particular. The side of it is sticking up slightly and, cautiously, you peel it off to reveal another label underneath.

Glycerin.

Thankfully it wouldn't kill you, but it was a huge nuisance. You'd have to remake the solution and, as you glance at the time clock, you realize your prospects of finishing are hopeless.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

Hanbin hits his team's buzzer in the knick of time, the crowd erupting into applause for the school's golden boy. You chew your cheek, willing yourself not to cry as your team members begin to comfort you. Just as you compose yourself, you hear shouts coming from the other side of the room.

"(Y/N) couldn't even finish the experiment!" One of the younger Blue Team members taunts, smirking at you. "Pink Team is going down!"

"Maybe they should consider appointing a new leader," another Blue Team member jeers. "(Y/N) is clearly--."

"That's not very kind, Ilsung," Hanbin interrupts, placing a hand on the shoulder of both of the younger team members sternly. "Everyone here is trying their best and, unfortunately, mistakes are very easy to make under pressure."

"I didn't make a mistake. The--," you start to correct, but Hanbin has already stepped up onto his metaphorical soapbox once more.

"Whether we are winners in the competition or not, we are the losing team if we don't treat our opponents with the respect they deserve," Hanbin concludes, turning back to face the audience.

"Once again, Sung Hanbin proves his humility and kindness," the announcer coos as Hanbin shakes his head to politely deflect the compliment with a smile. "Exactly what we'd expect from the Fall Regional Scholastic Decathlon champion."

"What!?" You exclaim. "He didn't even win yet!"

"Anyway," the announcer continues as the judges hand him the results, "the winner of the science portion of the Super Relay is... The Blue Team! Obviously!"

You laugh hopelessly. "Obviously, he said."

"It's alright," David reassures. "Double the points in the final Humanities portion. The Blue Team has nothing on us!"

You nod, smiling reluctantly. "You're right. We can still win this! I believe in all of you. Let's do this!"

Pink Team is ahead 44 to 36 when you finally step up to the podium to answer your set of twenty humanities questions. Hanbin steps up to his podium, picking up his buzzer and breathing deeply in preparation for the upcoming questions in his weakest area.

You pick up your buzzer, placing your thumb on the trigger comfortably so that it doesn't cramp when you press it rapidly.

"Good luck," Hanbin says, smiling at you cutely.

"Yeah," you manage to reply without throwing up. "You too."

You fire off the five economics questions easily, hitting the buzzer a full second before Hanbin each time. You're on a roll and you don't have any intentions of slowing down.

"Now we'll move onto literature," the announcer prompts, rearranging his script cards.

"One second, please," Hanbin calls suddenly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "This is embarrassing but I think there's something in my shoe. Can I be allowed to remove it?"

The judges look at each other momentarily before nodding. "Quickly," one agrees.

Hanbin bends down, untying his shoelace and shaking out his shoe. You look out at the audience, who are all both visibly and audibly fawning over how adorable the Blue Team leader is.

"So endearing, that Sung Hanbin," the announcer remarks fondly.

Hanbin finally hops back up to his feet, nodding at the judges and the audience respectfully. "Please forgive me for the delay."

"No worries at all. Let's jump right back into it then," the announcer segways. "Question six: What is the name of the collection of 85 articles written by Alexander Hamilton, John Jay—.”

You smile as you press your buzzer, but confusion sweeps over you when Hanbin’s buzzer sounds first.

“The Federalist Papers,” he answers, but you can hear a bit of uncertainty in his voice.

“Correct,” the announcer says. “Question seven: Name the correct order of the three cantos of The Divine Com—.”

You press your buzzer, Hanbin’s buzzer ringing out again.

“Inferno, Purgatorio, Paradiso,” the Blue Team leader answers correctly again.

You go through five more questions like this— knowing the answer to them all immediately only to somehow be beaten by Hanbin’s buzzer.

“Um, excuse me?” You ask before the start of the history round. “I think… I think there’s something wrong with my buzzer!"

The announcer turns to the judges who allow the complaint with a nod. "Please test your buzzer several times," the judge on the end requests, gesturing for you to proceed.

You press the button on your buzzer and hear it ring. You press it once more and it rings again. The third time you press it, your cheeks heat up with utter embarrassment. You could've sworn it wasn't working just a moment ago...

You smile uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," you apologize quickly, mortified as your bottom lip tucks between your lips shyly.

"It's okay," Hanbin answers, smile lines appearing on his perfect cheeks. "I know this last section is usually not my best, but I promise it's just because I've been studying so hard. I would be thrown off guard too!"

The audience laughs at his humorous compassion, your error only making way for another opportunity to boost Hanbin's morale. You swear you feel yourself shrinking down, down, down to the size of an ant as Hanbin gets every last point in the final round of the Super Relay.

You pressed the buzzer in the middle of every question.

"It's okay, (Y/N)," Maria says, resting her head on your shoulder. "I'm sure all of that stuff with the marker just threw you off. That wasn't your fault."

You shake your head, completely perplexed by how this had happened and now also beginning to questioning your sanity. "I was pressing the buzzer," you assert, fighting off another round of tears welling up in your eyes as the adrenaline of the competition wheres off.

"I pressed the buzzer every time."

"We'll get 'em next semester, (Y/N)!" David encourages. "And they'll never see it coming."

You force yourself to smile, not wanting to to show the team your real emotions. Had you really not been pressing the buzzer? Were you actually going crazy?

"Mm," you agree quietly. "Pink Team: Spring Regional Scholastic Decathlon Champions! We'll make it happen!"

Your team all puts their hands into the circle, shouting, "1, 2, 3: Pink Team on Top!" After saying your temporary goodbyes, you walk through the empty hallway behind the gym and hang your lab coat up on the designated rack. As you secure your lab coat on the hook, you hear a mumbling coming from around the corner.

"Here's five hundred," you hear a familiar voice say as you tiptoe quietly to the end of the hall. "I'll get you the other half by Monday."

"Are you kidding me? You said you'd have it in full! Should've known the kid that was paying me to help him cheat in a Scholastic Decathlon would end up screwing me."

You peak your head out slowly around the corner, taking care not to make any loud sounds that might get you caught.

"Guess that's on you then. By Monday."

As the two men start to go their separate ways, you duck back behind the wall and try to control the rampant beating of your heart. You desperately attempt to silence your breathing as you hear one set of footsteps approach, closing your eyes and exhaling with relief when they continue down the hallway and past your hiding spot in the adjacent corridor.

With your hands over your eyes, you rub your face as tension bubbles to the surface. "Oh my god," you squeak out as the interaction you just witnessed sinks in.

Suddenly, something slams down above your head on the locker you're leaning against and rips you from your thought spiral.

"I'm glad you're finally starting to see my appeal," Hanbin says with a smirk, both hands pressed firmly against the locker on either side of your head. "But I think god might be a bit too much, even by my standards."

You swallow nervously, having had the displeasure of being confronted by Hanbin like this numerous times before. You look around to check if by some miracle there's anyone still lingering in the hallway that's witnessing this.

"Just me," Hanbin seemingly reads your mind. "That's not a problem, is it?"

"Y-you--... You..." He tilts his head expectantly, waiting for you to stop tripping over your own tongue. "You cheated?"

"Oh," Hanbin coos mockingly. "Did I?"

You nod, feeling your bottom lip shake. "You paid that announcer to give you all the answers."

"What?" He asks, face scrunching up in confusion. "He didn't give me the--... You think I, the reigning Regional Champion, need someone to give me the answers? Come on, (Y/N), I know you're smarter than that."

You blink back at him silently, watching as his face lights up in amusement.

"Do you actually have that little self-confidence?" He asks, shaking his head at you in amazement. "You really think your marker just happened to stop working right when it was your turn to solve? Or that the glycerin tube was just coincidentally mislabeled?"

Your lips part as Hanbin pieces the truth together for you.

"You and I both know you pressed that buzzer first every single time," he says earnestly, pouting at you sadly. "Are you really that insecure that you'd believe you were going crazy before you'd believe that I'd rigged your buzzer while I was fixing my shoe?"

"You... you..." You attempt to protest, but once again your stammering proves why you're always just Hanbin's ghostwriter.

His eyebrows furrow in concern and it's unnervingly genuine. "Seriously, (Y/N)? Now you're kind of just making me sad."

The patronizing from Hanbin is the last straw. He can steal your words, he can call you names, he can even sabotage your efforts...

But the moment Sung Hanbin begins to pity you is the moment you can no longer just stand there and take it.

"I'm gonna tell everybody," you threaten, but your voice comes out far too soft and shaky for him to take it seriously.

"I'm sure you are," he mocks, smirking at you. "I'm sure this time you won't just suck it up like you always do."

You lean forward, your face now just a couple inches from Hanbin's and you swear you see just the smallest flash of panic in his eyes at your action. "You're right," you agree. "You're always right, Hanbin."

He stares back at you, unmoving.

"That's why I'm so disappointed," you admit, sentiment suddenly shifting. "It wasn't my lack of confidence that made the possibility that you cheated unfathomable to me. It was honestly that, even after everything we've been through, I've always thought a bit more of you than that."

Hanbin leans back, hands falling to his sides as he continues to frown at you.

"I really don't like you, Hanbin, and I don't like always being in your shadow, but the truth is: you make a much better leader than I would," you confess, everything you've wanted to say now flowing freely out of your mouth. "And up until tonight, I thought that if I had to stand in a shadow, at least it was of someone who on some level deserved to be casting one."

Hanbin just blinks, his lips parting slightly as you study him. When he continues to refuse to react, you turn on your heels and begin to walk back down the hallway in the direction that you'd come from. You're halfway to the doors when Hanbin's voice suddenly rings out behind you:

"Join my team next semester."

You turn around quickly, one eyebrow raised in shock. "What!?"

"You heard me," he replies calmly.

"That's--... That's ridiculous! And your team is full anyway."

"Not for you, it's not," Hanbin quips, walking up to you.

"But--... But--."

"Come on, (Y/N). You just said it yourself: you were never meant to be a leader," Hanbin says as he stops in front of you. "But you're smarter than me. That's why I needed to set you back. There was no way I could've beaten you fair and square this time and you know it."

You stare at him wordlessly, wondering what you did in your past life to have to suffer the acquaintanceship of such an infuriating man.

"Even being thrown off by your stupid marker, you knew that equation like the back of your hand," he continues definitively. "If you had spoken up about the mislabeled tube. If you had trusted yourself about the buzzer..."

"But you knew I wouldn't."

He nods. "So join my team. Anyways, I... I could really use you," he says, a sheepish look on his face that you've never seen him wear around you before. "Blue Team is always able to win Regionals because I know how to beat the Pink Team-- I know how to beat you. But we always lose at Sectionals because the smartest person at our school was on the team we just beat."

You bite your lip, chewing on Hanbin's words as you feel both intensely offended and unfortunately flattered. But you could never let him know the latter. "What about anything that I just said makes you think I would join the team of some cheating asshole?"

To your surprise, he just laughs. "I've never heard you swear before. It's kind of..." He clears his throat, trailing off before he finishes his sentence. "If I'm being honest, your sudden display of willpower is kind of throwing me."

"Well I hope it throws you into another dimension, you self-righteous prick," you respond, turning back around furiously and continuing to walk down the hallway towards the exit doors-- shaking your head at the audacity of the boy called Sung Hanbin.

"Then can I pitch an alternative?" Hanbin calls as your fingers grip the door handle.

You pause, not realizing the mistake you've made as Hanbin's voice ricochets off the walls of the gym hallway:

"Go out with me."

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tokoyamisstuff · 2 months

Text

Breaking Bonds Ch. 5

Summary: Regardless of logic, something meaningful is developing between you and your husband. Warnings: Slight angst, violence blood and injury A/N: Long chapter ahead, got a lil' carried away. Pacing and past/present is messed up pls ignore.

"Do you understand the violence it took to become this gentle? [...] The gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it."

- Nitya Prakash and Richard Siken

[Previous Chapter]

Surprisingly, Rabban didn't grow bored of you as soon as he anticipated.

Quite the opposite, even: Up until now you merely shared a name and your quarters, but from this day onwards the two of you became practically inseparable.

It might sound ridiculous - and honestly, it is - but that one kind act of his was enough to gain at least a tiny fraction of your trust.

Despite Rabban having spent a lifetime of wrongdoings, you were now determined to bring forth the good buried deep inside of your husband, no matter how.

At least you wanted to believe there was still something left to save.

Those aspirations were the last straw, the only thing that would give your life on this nightmarish planet some hope.

Right now, however, being in midst of the arena, you reconsidered whether the potential you saw in him was more wishful thinking than anything.

You got a pedestral seat watching this unnecessary violent event- the favourite sport of their primitive culture - unfold. It was used mainly for entertainmennt, as well as means of punishment or execution.

The Beast was raising his blade, the deafening noise of his admirers cheering him on echoing through the air alongsides the paradox rays of their black sun. He was toying with his contender, showing off since he was certain of victory. No wonder, since it was standard to drug all the opponents before the fight.

Might be your imagination, but he seemed to be scanning the crowd frantically until he found the face he was looking for. A careless action, considering one's gaze should never leave the enemy until the fight was over.

You could've sworn to see a small smile tug on the edges of his lips when he locked eyes with you, desperate to see the slightest hint of adoration from your side.

Rabban had learned something about himself through this marriage: He wants to please, needs to be needed. By his uncle at first of course, but now he's got another fixation - and this one was built on something more than plain trauma.

Well, not only trauma at least.

Your husband genuinely wanted to take care of you, but tragically he did not know how with those hands that only ever knew how to destroy.

He was aware that he could never earn your affection, let alone able to handle being loved...

...but in hindsight he already possessed you, didn't he?

A ray of light hit your face, reflected by the opponent's blade as he struck Rabban's left shoulder. You sucked in a pained breath on his behalf, feeling dizzy as you saw his blood mix with the sand.

You folded your hands as if you were praying for him to win - and as soon as he sees it, newfound thrill flowing through his veins.

Without so much as flinching he tore the blade out of his own flesh, his head held high as he effortlessly brought the other man to his feet without even breaking a sweat.

Only now you realized how ridiculously strong he was indeed - able to snap also your neck whenever he pleased.

You closed your eyes, turning away as your husband went for the kill , sealing his victory. It was a quick death, unusually merciful for their kind that's known to reach new lows concerning sadism.

"My Countess" the bloodied man greeted you confidently, chest swelling with pride as he approached you. You'll never fully get used to your title, 'Countess Rabban'. But the enthusiastic way he adressed it made you almost comfortable with that new role - or rather new life.

"My Cou-" Rabban didn't waste any time, sweeping you off of the ground as soon as you were in reach to go for a borderline-lewd kiss. You could only wonder what was going on in his head, suddenly being so prone to public displays of affec- no, ownership.

"That victory is my gift for you." You hate whenever he'd bestow you other's death and misery - but Rabban literally can't help himself, doesn't know how else to show you he cares.

"You're hurt." He almost seemed pleased with your reaciton - so sympathetically and worried despite the brutality you just witnessed.

"Minor injury" he chuckled darkly, "This is nothing."

The way you looked at him was unlike anything he's ever experienced before. No one had ever dared to approach him with anything else than fear, disgust or malice - and he prided himself on that fact.

Until now that he was practically melting whenever you were unable to keep yourself from smiling, knowing he managed to get this reaction from you.

It felt both right and yet so terribly wrong at the same time, the way you were drawn to his man.

Have you been on Giedi Prime for so long already that you were slowly succumbing to madness, blending in with the Harkonnens you lived among?

During the whole stroll towards your home, you felt Rabban's hand on the small of your back. A subconscious act, perfectly unaware how addicted he had become to your closeness by now.

And yet not unnoticed by others...

"Surely a great achievement, wasn't it?" Your smile wouldn't falter while you patched Rabban up - as he personally requested - nodding along while listening carefully to his overexaggerated stories. You could tell he was desperate for praise, born as the black sheep into this fucked up family.

"Sounds like you did amazing" you compliment his tale and instantly see his eyes light up - yet his fist balling nervously at the same time. He was bad at catching sarcasm, and used to mockery hidden beneath fancy phrasings.

"Careful" you shoo him, not done yet with your stitches. Gladly the blade caused a clean cut, so no tendons or other anatomical strucutres were severed.

Your husband had more luck than judgement, as usual.

"Y/N?" Blinking up at him after having applied the bandage, you suddenly feel his palm cup your much smaller one, thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand. "Thank you."

Rabban was smiling at you, different however from the one you were normally used to. A pityful attempt to mimick a friendly demeanour, so contradicitonary to his whole self it was almost comically inaccurate.

"I-I...no problem, really." You felt heat rising to your face, heart fluttering as his other hand cupped your cheek. He was incredibly cautious to be gentle when his palm wandered to the back of your neck, pulling your face closer to his...

...but just when you were about to surrender yourself to this absurd attraction, you stopped yourself.

Remembering the reason you knew the skill of patching up after all, back when all those lives were - and still are - destroyed by the Harkonnen made you think straight again.

"I'm sorry, Rabban" was all you managed to wring out as you sprung up, violently shaking your head as if to shake those feelings right off.

"Don't be. It's alright." You freeze in your tracks at his understanding reaciton, and yet feel like even the chemical gases of the outside would be less suffocating than his presence.

The Beast watches you leave, chose not to pursue you. He was disappointed with the outcome of his approach, yet uncharacteristically not mad either - just confused, and maybe a little hopeful, at last.

It took you a while to calm down, arranging your thoughts and trying to rationalize your emotions as good as possible. Still, your mind went back again and again to this tender moment you shared, wondering whether it would really be so bad to catch feelings for someone you were tied to either way...

...wait, what in the known universe were you even doing?!

This man is the dead enemy of your homeworld, having caused so much misery that he can never be forgiven!

No. Never!

You might have to tolerate spending your lives together - but you'd be damned if you let the circumstances twist your loneliness into some forlorn type of affection!

This villain is just curious about the customs of usual people. Neither is he capable of having a meaningful bond, nor does he deserve it.

Much to your luck Rabban was nowhere to be found after your return. At least initially you felt alleviated not needing to talk this through - until it dawned on you who would have to pay the price for your insolence.

"Milady, wait!" one of the soldiers begged, fearing the consequence of guiding you to the slave pits. "This is no place for a noblewoman!"

"You dare questioning my decision?" The small garnison immediately stopped in their tracks when you turned around, startled by the hostile glare you shot them. "Maybe I should inform my husband about your lack of cooperation."

As ashamed as you were of this mischievous joy, as satisfying it also was for the roles to be reversed for a change. For them to be forced to listen to your every command, despite you being an 'inferior' Lankiveili.

After all this time of hiding and losing against the Harkonnens, right now you had the upper hand. A small victory, if only symbolic.

"N-No, please" he wrung out, visibly concerned. "Let us at least lead the way. For your safety."

Even during the day the planet's surface was somehow even darker than the inside of those soulless, metallic buildings. Anyone staying here for too long would either suffer chemical burns or choke on the pollution, so wearing protective gear was mandatory.

The slave pits were far away in the middle of nowhere, making it impossible to escape. You've been told that none of them could survive more than three years top under those conditions...

At first you thought Rabban was here because of your neither polite nor subtle rejection, but then you got wind of something different: A maid had informed you about the latest political scheme in the Empire - not that Rabban would care about any of it, as long as his position was secured...

...but well, this time it wasn't. The Emperor had set a decree that would take Arrakis from your husband's lead and give it into the hands of rivaling House Atreides.

Who knows what heinous things he'd do to those poor slaves to let off some steam.

No, it was good this way, as harsh as this might sound. You were developing irrational feelings, so witnessing how the Beast treated others was just what you needed to get down to reality again.

You'd soon find out, seeing your husband at the horizon and in front of him lined up slaves, serving as today's victims. He walks past each of them with one hand on his whip, none daring to look directly into his eyes as he fed on their fear, dwelled in this abstract idea of control and power.

When he finally picked out one that particulary unnerved him for no concrete reason, ready to strike him with his infamous poisoned whip, you leaped in front of that poor person just before the hit, yelling "STOP!"

You don't know what possessed you to do this, or how you even managed to get this far without being grabbed by the bystanding soldiers - but instead of the expected incoming blow, there was dead silence among every involved party.

Even with the mask on he recognized your voice and the body language gave it right away, so graceful and much more docile - yet the shock he was feeling seeing you of all people here was too quickly replaced by fury.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?! I ALMOST CRIPPLED YOU, DAMMIT!"

Rabban turned around, concerning himself with the soldiers and completely forgetting about the slaves you quickly waved off to save themselves. "What the hell is my wife doing here?!"

"My-my Count, she insisted-" the man's breath got sucked right out of his lungs when Rabban's fist met the plexus right under his ribcage.

"Any other objections?" Everyone shook their heads. "Good. Escort her back. Immediately."

"Rabban" It unnerved him that you'd speak to him so casually, so careless in front of third parties. "I have an important matter to discuss with you. In private."

"Later" he deliberately turned you down, not even biding you another look as he went after the escaping slaves. "Got unfinished business. Now get her away from here, carry her if it need to be."

"Hey, I- don't touch me!" Your initial near-death-experience was nothing compared with the frustration you felt skyrocketing a thousandfold right now. "Rabban, please!"

"They wouldn't dare harming you" he assured you as one of the guards casually threw you over his shoulder. It was so unfair, how considerate he could be when he was just about to destroy another person like a goddamn toy.

You were lashing out at your abductor's back, accompanied by the laughter of his men while they carried you inside of the main building. Feeling humiliated, no, tainted by their touch - knowing very well what happened to other maidens from your world that had fallen into the hands of Rabban's henchmen...

...and to think it could get any worse than this...

"Let. Her. Down." You knew that voice, hoarse and absent of any emotion. It made the hair of your neck stand up, head spinning with adrenaline.

"Good" he spoke as you were carefully placed to the ground again, the dagger in his hand pointed towards a door, ordering "Leave us alone. I'll walk her the rest of the way."

"My dear brother-in-law" you cheered in a high-pitched, fake-friendly tone, covering up how terrified you truly were. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Up until now Feyd had no interest in you whatsoever - and you were damn glad about it.

The current generation of Harkonnens were a distillation of malice, indifference, sadism and dehumanization - with Feyd-Rautha being the most exceptional specimen in all of those characteristics.

Unlike Rabban, he had been raised by the Baron and Piter ever since birth, not a fraction of positive influence left.

Basically, he had been doomed to become a freak from his very first breath.

Even your husband was creeped out by his own brother, the pure evil he impersonated. He never spoke about it openly, but you always noticed how defensive his stance became whenever those two were in the same room.

"Oh, I thought we'd chat a bit while we're on our merry way." He could play the part of a civilized young man to perfection and it made you sick to your stomach.

Sometimes you forgot that no matter how weird it may sound, Rabban was actually the most sane of them all. His poor impulse control just makes people have a wrong impression.

It was actually something you actuall admired about your husband- he carried his heart on his tongue, unlike those fake aristocrats.

"So, how's the marriage life with my brother?" he asked as you were slendering across the halls, every person you came across ducking down in fear of the youngest Harkonnen. "You know, I can hardly imagine what you go through. My uncle used to say he was more beast than man - and they treated him accordingly."

You balled your fists at the thought of a young Rabban being mistreated in the most gruesome ways, having gotten used to those distraught screams he wrung out every night until this day.

But you knew better than to fall for his provocation right away.

"With all due respect" you dropped the courtesy, "Why would you care?"

"Well, I might not know what love feels like - but I sure know how it looks. And my brother seems quite attached to you."

You furrowed your brows in disbelief at his observation, meanwhile he was circling you- as if to analyze what the hell was so special about you. "They say I'm good at reading people, and he's always been an open book to me. Even his own men started talking, and they rarely dare to speak out of line."

"So what?" Your voice was shaking with the uncertainty of his intentions, aware that you were right now a victim to his whims. "As long as we do as we're told, does it really matter what happens in the privacy of our home?"

"Well, you still despise him, don't you?" Feyd was now prventing your advance, standing in front of you in all of his glory. A handsome young man indeed, but everything about him was repulsing nonetheless. "He enslaved your planet and killed countless of your relatives. You must hate him deeply...but maybe I have a solution for this problem."

Feyd's hand reached out for you and you were certain of receiving pain or worse at any second - yet he merely twirled a strand of hair between his fingers, before tucking it behind your ear.

"You don't care about wealth or power" he whispers, almost cheek to cheek with you now. "How admirable. You only wish to wake up from this nightmare and return to your loved ones, don't you? I can arrange that."

Oh, he sure was good with his words. To the untrained eye one would assume someone this charismatic could never be a psychopath - but knowing his true, corrupted soul kept you from falling for his silver tongue.

If it was for his own benefit, he could lie with every breath.

"I am no fool. You wouldn't help someone like me if it wasn't for your personal gain." Shivering at his aura, this intrusion of personal space you could tell he was amused, aroused even. "So why? And how?"

"Ah yes, that's more of a trade. I'll grant you freedom..." Feyd explained as he rummaged in his pockets, pulling out a small flask. "...and you kill a man for me."

"Now what do you say?" he urges, shoving the obvious poison into your hands. "It's untraceable. They'll never find out."

Clutching the small phial in your hand, eyes darting from the liquid inside to your inlaw and back, you croak "I don't understand."

Murder was not punished by law on Giedi Prime - the only justice was the survival of the strongest. It was even greatly encouraged to kill someone shall you desire something they owned, may it be their post or even worse motivators. And Feyd had already tried assassinating his uncle several times, even then remaining unpunished.

"You're perfectly capable of killing Rabban yourself. Why go out of your way, including me in your petty sibling rivalry?"

"Where'd be the fun in that?" the Harkonnen shrugged, a manic grin splitting his face in two. "Having him die at the hands of this foolish crush would be way more rewarding. Just imagine life leaving his eyes when he realizes who is responsible for his demise. Perfect tragedy."

The thought alone made an incredible sadness overcome you.

"And then what, you become Count and terrorize my people?" He would definetly be the worse choice, you thought. But he had a point:

"I don't give a damn about your insignificant planet. I have greater aspirations. But Rabban still sees it as his homeworld, my uncle puts him under house arrest there frequently. I would simply leave you people alone as long as we get your ressources, you have my word."

"So, what do you say? You'll get revenge for your people and return to Lankiveil as widow." There's a chance that this plan might work, that they would let you leave so your folk doesn't revolt. And still... "Who guarantees me that you won't frame me for the deed and have me executed?"

"The choice is yours. You'll never know if you don't try" he urges, visibly irritated of this far too long conversation.

Before he left you by yourself, he turned around one last time - the severity of his words echoing inside of your mind. "Besides: A quick death would be better than a long life full of agony, don't you think? Only a matter of time until he'll revert back to his old self, believe me."

On your now secluded way home you took several detours, even though feeling uncomfortable among other Harkonnens.

Feyd was right in a way, of course.

What if one day Rabban forgets himself in the heat of the moment, and does something he regrets later? Would certainly not be the first time. His brother on the other hand might generally be more dangerous, but intelligent enough to know when to behave shall the risks outweight the benefits.

"Surely he's bluffing" you tried to convince yourself, make sense out of this messed up situation. "It simply can't be true."

Yes, he might temporarily be a little less intense, but Rabban was still Rabban - both brothers evildoers that didn't even hesitate killing their own parents.

They don't love anyone but themselves.

Before you were even close to your chambers, you hear a familiar roar accentuated with fleeing servants throughout the hallways. Stepping foot into your shared bedroom you find it in ruins, your husband sitting on the floor now coated in silence.

"R-Rabban?" you call out for him and you flinch as he stares you down like a feral animal. As soon as he sees your face however his anger subsides, evaporates just like water in the desert.

"Where the hell have you been?!" he grumbled, features softening as he got up again. Anyway, you wished to not be within his hitting range right now."You left before me and were gone for hours."

"I- sorry..." you stuttered, the guilt of your secret conspiracy making you unable to even look at him. "I thought no one was waiting for me here, so I went for a walk."

You immediately began mentally speculating what punishment might follow - until Rabban caught you off guard. He wrapped his arms around you, holding your body firmly against his that was still trembling with rage.

"Never come to the slave pits again" he mumbles into your hair, head resting atop of yours. "Do you have any idea how many people there might try and take your life to get back at me for taking their loved ones?"

Did he just compare you to a beloved person?

"Haha, I doubt it" you chuckle a little flustered, yet the realization was creeping up on you. "It is widely known that you have very little regard for human life, except for your uncle of cour-"

Suddenly he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him - and the sheer adoration in his eyes made you see the truth. "Your wellbeing is my responsibility, whether you like it or not. Got it?"

Feyd was right after all.

You nod mutely, wanting to change the topic before you might fold completely. "I wanted to see you because I heard what happened to Arrakis."

"Yeah..." His free hand was still placed at your hip, squeezing ever so slightly. "My uncle will punish me soon. I am a failure, a disgrace, and because of this we lost the Spice."

Accusations about his poor government of your own planet were already at the tip of your tongue, yet for some reason you swallowed it in front of a man that had been robbed of the only chance to prove himself.

"Hear me out" you whispered, hands hesistantly resting on his shoulderblades to reassure him. "This is only a trap for House Atreides, I am sure of it."

You could almost hear the gears in your husband's head turning without results. "How?"

"They have grown strong, and their greatness is known throughout the galaxy." Putting two fingers under your chin in a pondering way, you add "Their popularity is threatening the Emperor. He wants them gone."

"And what does all of that have to do with my Arrakis?"

"If you wanted someone disappear without any witnesses, wouldn't you choose a planet with a lethal habitate and poor communication possibilities?"

Rabban's mouth stood slightly agape as he murmured "They'll be erased, and we return."

"Exactly..." Nothing could make you hide the overwhelming sadness you felt at that moment. "So it's not your fault, Rabban. It's merely part of a greater conspiracy."

Your kindness overchallenged him. He was never given it before and did not know how to deal with it properly - and yet you can redirect his anger so well that he almost feels comfortable in his own skin.

"Seems like I owe you my gratitude once again" he laughs and for a moment you think you could get used to this softer side of him. "Is there anything you wish for, so I can make it up to you?"

"I want to see my family!" you blurted out, the answer coming as fast as a lightning bolt. "Take me with you next time you go to Lankiveil."

All this wealth and this is what you settle for?

"Alright, whatever" he rolled his eyes, a little jealous of the people you loved so dearly. "But if your theory is true, I'll be called to battle soon. So be patient with me."

Eradicating a whole bloodline out of selfishness and greed, once again proving your point. As someone from the minor houses you knew better than anyone that there wasn't really a good or bad side in this.

"Don't worry" you feel his palm on your shoulder, "I'll return victorious as always. Those weaklings stand no chance!"

Yes, this Empire was built on the blood and tears of the weak and righteous. All the great houses did atrocious things over the past millenia, and this circle of violence and betrayal will continue until there's no humans left.

One tyrant follows after the other. There were no victims - only culprits and accomplices.

So why were you consoling, encouraging him even?

There was another way, allowing you to prevent this massacre if you weren't so pathetically hesistant. Just murder this wrenched menace and save hundrets, if not thousands of lives!

"Say, Rabban..." you ponder as you fondled with the poison hidden in your sleeve, eyeing the bottle of liquor he'd surely empty this evening. "Why did you never try to kill your uncle and become Baron yourself?"

The Beast had a perplexed expression at that random question, so you tried walking him your lane of thought. "I heard it's common among your people if you want to take someone's place..." You became gradually more quiet, that last part almost inaudible and yet you regretted it slipping out. "...like you did with your father."

"I- don't know." Your husband's voice was an octave deeper, laced with sadness and...guilt? "It was never my wish to have him gone. I'm comfortable with my role as it is."

"You are so loyal to undeserving people..." Your words confuse him, make memories resurface he'd rather remained suppressed. But you wouldn't have any of it. If you were to be judge and executioner, then you wanted the whole truth. "Then why did you kill your father, our dear Count? For power? Because he tried to help my people? Tell me!"

Nothing like that - he merely adapted to his environment.

And still, he remembered the look of betrayal in his father's eyes, as it was yesterday - as well as the distraught scream of his mother. That feeling of killing someone with his bare hands for the first time...

...it was back then that he realized that love couldn't fix a broken man like him after all.

"BECAUSE THEY ABANDONED ME!" he finally snaps, roaring right into your face. "Do you have any idea what it means to live on Giedi Prime when you are unworthy?"

He runs around fiercely, slamming his hands against his temple to keep the past from reemerging. "The things they do to make you obey, how they bend your behavior into a direction beneficial to them? What you endure, what you need to do?"

You can only helplessly watch his breakdown, heart breaking for him as you want to hug this poor child that had been turned into an unstable warmonger.

"I have nothing else" he ultimatively whispers, defeated.

"That's not true - you have me." Taking a few steps forwards, you take his hand...

...and place the flask right into his palm.

"What is this?"

"Poison" you retort flatly, "A deadly one. From your brother, meant for you."

"Why?" He looks at you flabbergasted, fondling with the flask in his leather glove. "You should ask him, not me."

"No" his voice cracks, both stunned and touched by your decision. "I know my brother long enough to believe this is within his range of possibilities. What bothers me is you...why didn't you do it?"

You are at loss for words, contemplating to cowardly flee again - but Rabban insists, slowly coming closer and blocking your exit. "Tell me. I need to hear it."

"Please" you whimper, feeling your resolve shatter as his lips brush yours. "Don't make me say it..."

This is insane, wrong, a betrayal to your people and everyone that had suffered under your husband's influence...

...and yet you find yourself yearning to close the gap between your lips.

Rabban knows very well what Stockholm-Syndrome is. A handful of former victims had thought to love him to make his abuse more bearable. He grew tired of them eventually nonetheless, of their pretentious survival tactic.

"Your father begged for your life back then" he confesses, wants to spill all the disturbing facts about him and wanting you to love him either way, in spite of being contrary to all of your beliefs. "I told him I compromised only to make you watch your pathetic homeworld crumble to dust. And then I behea-"

SLAP

You want to go for another hit but Rabban catches your wrist, staring you down so intensely you hate yourself for what it's doing to you.

It's the first time you kiss him back, grabbing him by the collar to pull him down to your height. You feel him smile against your lips, lifting you up just to throw you onto the nearby mattress.

How many times had you lied here without anything ever happening?

"Tell me to stop" he breathes, carnal tones filling the air as his hands worked their way across your body, "And I will."

You shake your head in approval, moaning uncontrollably while Rabban undressed you, tracing sloppy kisses across your body. It made you high on this feeling, deafening out the voice of reason screaming in your subconsciousness.

For the first time, his touch was meant to mend and not break.

If only you knew that he'll make you regret that affection of yours all too soon...

"I'm not good at being gentle...but for you I'll try."

[Next Chapter]

#dune #dune 2 #beast rabban #glossu rabban #beast rabban/reader #glossu rabban/reader #harkonnen #self insert #fanfiction #dave bautista #dune part two

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quitealotofsodapop · 9 months

Text

"The Monkey King and the Infant" details Part 3 - and likely last for now before I go on Spoiler lockdown so I can write:

links to Part 1 and Part 2:

The Jade Emperor sees/is aware of the canon Monkie Kid series. He thinks the whole situation as a big waste of time. So... remove Monkie Kid = no Monkie Kid series, Monkey King stays retired, and less of a headache for the big man up top. Win win.

The Jade Emperor shows Sun Wukong visions of the worst parts on the series inc; LBD's return, the Samadhi fire being reignited, The Jade Emperor's death and the potential breakdown of the universe etc... This is also how SW learns on accident that Macaque is alive again.

Internally SW is very conflicted cus... the universe might end? But more importantly he might actually die? But also consider; Free Son and a return to his beloved.

Other characters occassionally get tormented by visions of canon events/death omens - likely a side effect of the altered timeline, or the Jade Emperor subtly trying to turn them against one another.

Erlang and various other mythos characters show up. Erlang is tasked with ensuring that SW destroyed MK's egg, but is knocked out by Moksha (on command of Guanyin) to give SW a chance to reconsider. In the egg's place, Erlang found a "shell" of obsidian. This isn't enough to convince Erlang... but it's enough to convince the Jade Emperor and the few members of the Celestial Court who knew about the Egg that the task had been completed. Erlang is sussing SW hard for this... but wants to see what the big deal is with the undercooked Stone Monkey before he says anything.

Moksha is acting as Sun Wukong's parole officer as a "Sorry I bonked you" favor to Erlang. Shows up in glamour at Pigsy's as customer to keep an eye on things. Big shipper under her no-crap cop attitude.

Guanyin herself is Very Against the idea of scrambling MK (Mercy personified yo). But she doesn't appear physically, meaning that not even the Jade Emperor knows that she techincally betrayed Heaven.

Nicknames/familial titles MK calls his fam through out the story:

Sun Wukong = "Dad" "Baba" "Baba Wu" Macaque = "Mom" "Bama" "Baba Mihou" "Mama" (when he was really young) Pigsy = "Dadsy" "Pops" "Boss" (at work) Tang = "Papa Tang" "Pama" (verbal slip as a toddler that stuck) Sandy = "Shúshu/Uncle" Mei = "Meimei" " (little sister - techically she's older but the title is also a pun on her name) Nezha = "Tánggē" "Gege" (grew up thinking Nezha was an older cousin)

When it comes to finally training MK when he comes of age; Sun pulls a "Lego Batman and Bruce Wayne" - hoping that by separating the personas, he'll be able to reach MK better as a teacher. And MK 100% falls for it. Cus "The Monkey King" and his dorky "Dad" are two completely different guys! Right?

Macaque meanwhile has a very different style of teaching:

Macaque, in his series outfit, manifesting from the shadows: "MK, we need to talk about-" MK, battlemode: "AH! THE SIX EARED MACAQUE!" Macaque: "I'M LITERALLY YOUR OWN MOTHER! YOU PUT THAT STAFF DOWN THIS INSTANT MISTER!" MK: "yes sir"

This leads to a funny misunderstanding later on when he sees Macaque and The Monkey King interact during training:

MK: "Wait... if my mom is the Six Eared Macaque... and I've got Monkey King's powers..." MK: *"GASP!"* MK: "MOM!? Did you you cheat on Dad with The Monkey King!?" Macaque: "...really???" SW: *laughing his ass off*

Ok imma punch out and try to finish the first chapter. Will probably post a spotify mix soon. Pls tag or reply, or ask if you got any thoughts/questions. I love feedback!

#the monkey king and the infant #the monkey king and the infant au #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk s4 spoilers #lmk au #qi xiaotian #sun wukong #six eared macaque #liu er mihou #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #tagging the fic is gonna kill me #my aus

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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

Note

plm couple date night drabble? pls only if you have the chance 😊

This was incredibly fun to write 💕 Pausing a bit on this couple but I hope you enjoy this. Will definitely go back to them!🙂

Title: Please Love Me Drabble Bonus (04) - Date Night

WC: 8,204

Tags/Warnings: probably inaccurate things about drawing and soccer; indecent thoughts about one's spouse, nudity, smut (kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex), lots of fluff (18+)

Series Masterlist

Jungkook grips your hand as you walk past the door, your eyes widening at the suite that you’re both led to. It’s nicer and more comfortable than you expected, and you turn to your husband who seems just as surprised.

“You may order drinks and snacks,” the staff points to the monitor by the coffee table. “And please press this button once you’re ready to place your bets.”

You smile at her and give your thanks while Jungkook stands by the floor-to-ceiling window that looks out onto the race track.

“Cool stuff,” he says, looking at you with a smile. “I never understood the appeal of these things but grandfather loves watching this.”

“Then why are we here, then?” You chuckle.

You didn’t think Jungkook would be into this, too, especially since he’s more into activities that require him to move around.

“Because,” he starts, “competing with you is fun. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“You just never played Street Fighter with me, Kook,” you playfully roll your eyes. “I was a screaming and competitive mess when I was younger.”

“Which I never knew since you never played with me,” he pouts.

“Because you were so good and I didn’t want to embarrass myself,” you argue. “I told you, I had a little crush on you then. And I still do.”

You see the tips of his ears turn pink and he tries hard to not smile too much, but he still does, the scrunch of his nose too adorable for you to not squeal internally.

Jungkook always had that charm growing up, and that intensified when puberty hit - he got rid of his bowl cut, he gained some muscle, and his confidence skyrocketed, mostly because he was in the soccer team and that immediately made him one of the popular ones. His being a rich kid - who always threw parties at the village clubhouse or at rented hotels - added to that, and of course, the fact that he’s always been incredibly handsome.

You could think of a dozen other girls from high school who matched his outgoing personality and level of popularity - there was that star gymnast whom he dated for a while, the class President who was as sociable as she was smart, the model whom everyone had a crush on, and so many others.

He enjoyed those years, that much you knew. He had a different girlfriend every few months. But when it came to you, well, he rarely looked your way. Of course, now you know why, but still - high school you wouldn’t have believed it if you told her that in 10 years, you’d be making the Jeon Jungkook blush and get all shy the way he is right now.

The announcement that the next race will start soon brings you back to the present. Jungkook motions for you and you stand with him by the window, his arm around your waist, as you both observe the horses.

He disregards the call for bets, making you think that he took you here specifically for the bet between the both of you, and somehow that makes you even more excited.

“So, what are the rules?” You ask, turning to him.

“Alright, so there are 8 horses racing,” he starts. “We each bet on 4 different ones. Their rank in the race will be equivalent to points. We’ll add them up after 3 rounds and whoever has lower points, wins.”

“Why can’t it just be that the winning horse for the round scores a point for us and first to 2, wins?” You ask, wondering why he’s making it more complicated.

“Because when I win both rounds, then that’s it. Where’s the fun in that?” He scoffs. “Plus, it’s more entertaining if we keep on rooting for the horses until the race ends.”

“Hmm, fair point,” you nod. “So what’s on the line?”

“So if I win,” he smiles cheekily, “you attend my soccer match next Saturday wearing my jersey with a handmade sign rooting for me.”

He looks at you smugly and you know he’s not joking. When he said that the winner can ask the other person to do something embarrassing, he really meant it.

Jungkook, even when he had girlfriends in high school, always had admirers, and it was easy to spot them, too - anyone could just go to soccer practice and see who was lurking at the field, watching him. During games, there were several of them wearing his (unofficial) jersey with placards with his name on them.

Nari and Minhyuk used to send you photos of those girls. Yeji, who was part of the broadcasting club, always managed to take videos of the awkwardness when they screamed for Jungkook all at once and he didn’t seem to know who to address first.

You were obviously never part of that crowd. Squealing people always rattled you; games often went on for hours under the sun and you didn’t want your family to be worried.

It’s safe to say that you’d never watched any of Jungkook’s games live, not until he joined that soccer club the other month. They play thrice a week, and your husband has always found a way to go at least twice, and you’ve managed to watch a few of them.

You’d either be by yourself or with your friends, somewhere higher up the bleachers, away from those who treat these games as another one of their social events. You can’t blame them, though, not when the players are as handsome and rich as they are.

And just like in his younger years, Jungkook took command of this field, too. Whether it was a flashy pass or a goal, he always celebrated with such finesse, and it’s no surprise he’s become popular with the other “fans,” too.

But you were always the supporter on the sideline, taking photos and videos from afar, merely waving whenever he called out to you, and then leaving him with his teammates when they invited him for drinks. That was always Jungkook’s world, and you basked in him basking in it. But with this bet on the line, you really wouldn’t have an excuse.

“What’s the placard supposed to say?” You cock an eyebrow.

“Anything,” he shrugs. “As long as it screams, I’m so in love with my husband.”

He teasingly kisses your cheek as you chuckle at his cheesiness.

“That’s it?” You feign nonchalance, but he sees right through you.

“Yes, babe. I know you’re squirming internally already.”

You laugh at his statement, and your scrunched nose mirrors his. You’re so beautiful that he just wants to kiss you senseless, especially as you pretend that his winning consequence doesn’t affect you much. He knows you, and you were never one for excessive public displays of affection, often hiding in embarrassment whenever he shows you off or says something cheesy, which he always insists he means.

A part of him knows this is out of selfishness - he wants to see you be a little more daring for him, a little shameless to show your adoration, to show that you feel lucky to be with him.

He’d had his high school and college girlfriends do that - wear his jersey, cheer for him on the bleachers, side-eye the other girls who try to get his attention… and it was fun, it was confidence-boosting, it was affirming.

And for his past few games when he’d turn to the crowd, he’d search for you, happy enough that you show up when you can, even if you’re tucked to the side and quietly cheering him on. But he’d love to see you closer though, wearing something that bears his name on the back to show everyone that he’s yours, that you’re his.

“Okay, then,” you grin. “Watch your game wearing your jersey with a cheesy sign - got it. As for me…” You step closer and whisper in his ear, “I want you to model for me, naked.”

“Psh, that’s easy,” he scoffs, though you didn’t miss how he gulped just seconds ago. “I literally parade around you naked everyday, babe. I’d go around the apartment without clothes on if you let me.”

“Walking around naked is different from posing naked, Kook,” you inform him. “You’re gonna have to pose for a long period of time and just watch me work.”

“Will you be naked, too?”

“Of course not,” you playfully smack his arm. “I’m gonna be so focused and probably not mind you or something. You’ll be my subject, and I will treat you as such.”

“Hmm, I like it when you’re dominant,” he grunts in your ear, and though you smack him again, you can’t deny the heat in your belly at his statement.

“I never am,” you frown, “but I’m serious, Kook. We push through with this bet, then you’ll do it if I win.”

“Of course, babe,” he assures, hugging you. “I came up with the idea so of course I’ll see it through. But what’s it for, though?”

“We’re doing nude art in the drawing class I joined,” you say excitedly. “But I feel like I’m gonna get a little flustered if I see someone naked in front of me so I wanna practice being focused.”

“Wait, someone’s gonna go naked in front of you?” He exclaims.

“It’s an exercise, okay, and they’re gonna be naked in front of everyone.”

“I can just be your class’ model, then. That way, you won’t get flustered,” he offers.

“Nope, all this is for my eyes only,” you pout, and that’s what prompts him to kiss you.

He chuckles as his head sneaks in the crook of your neck. “I’m kidding. Of course, babe. Only for you.”

The announcer’s voice saying that the race will now begin prompts both of you to straighten yourselves and turn to each other.

“Starting now, you are my rival,” Jungkook puts on a serious face. “May the better Jeon win.”

“Get ready to lose, honey,” you say sweetly, complete with a tuck of a hair strand behind your ear and a flutter of your eyelashes. “I have a winning record to keep.”

As Jungkook should’ve expected, you do win.

It was a close one, at least, as your scores weren’t far apart until the third race when 3 of your horses made it to the top 3, leaving Jungkook with a higher score and thus, another losing record. It wasn’t without its tense moments, though.

You were a little reserved during the first race, while Jungkook joined in on the shrieks of the other patrons. He was fist bumping the air since he was up by 2 points, but things turned around during the second and third races and you’d started jumping a little and squealing yourself. Your beers were forgotten, and the staff looked at you weirdly for being so into the race without putting any bets, and Jungkook had smiled and said that you weren’t betting people and he didn’t want to lose money.

But in between the fake insults and the teasing, Jungkook would pull you close and wrap his arms around your waist, laughing at your competitiveness and constantly kissing your cheek. And so when he defeatedly looks at you after you announce yourself as winner, you know he’s just pretending to be upset. There’s a twinkle in his eye when he looks at you, and you feel his love envelop you in more ways than one.

“I offer my congratulations to Mrs. Jeon,” he bows. “That was a good race. I accept all consequences as agreed upon.”

“I accept your congratulations, Mr. Jeon,” you bow as well. “Keep your next Saturday free for me, please.”

“It’s gonna take a whole day?” He looks at you worriedly.

“No, but we’ll never know,” you shrug.

“Never know, what?” He smirks.

“Never know how impatient and whiny you’re gonna be that it’d take me longer than 4 hours to finish,” you tease. “But really, honey. You sure you’re okay with posing for me?”

“Yes, babe,” he wraps his arm around your shoulders as he leads you out to get the car. “Anything you want, I’ll do it.”

“Hmm, thank you, Kook. I can’t wait to make art out of this art,” you wink, but you ruin it with a scrunch of your nose and an embarrassed laugh.

“Ah, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

Watching the sunset from the 81st floor of the Lotte World Tower while gorging on delicious and delicate-looking food is an experience in itself. The views are amazing; it makes you appreciate the city’s skyline from high up here, so much so that the smile doesn’t leave your face.

“It’s beautiful out here, Kook,” you turn to him. “Maybe it was good that we missed out on that dinner? Would’ve been so awkward since I didn’t realize it’s this intimate and romantic.”

“Hey, we said we wouldn’t talk about it,” he pouts.

“We said, we’d make new memories,” you correct him. “And we’re here now, enjoying all this together.”

“It is pretty special, huh?” He smiles, as his eyes trace your features that he loves gazing upon when he wakes up and before he falls asleep.

“Yes, and because we’re making new memories… I thought I’d give you this,” you say, taking a small card from your purse and handing it to him, his wide eyes now tracing the painting collage of familiar places on the front - the water bungalow in Fiji, the lakes of Alberta, the streets of Prague, Central Park in New York, and your own balcony.

“Baby, what’s—”

“It was 2 years to the day yesterday since we said I love you to each other,” you interject, the same time he opens the card to see 24 different doodles of the words on the page. “I know it’s an odd thing to celebrate but I just remember that night so well and I always think of all the amazing things we’ve done and been to since then.”

Jungkook’s eyes are now glassy and you can’t say you didn’t expect this.

“I love you so much. I remember that night so well, too. And I—” he turns to you, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms and tell you how much love he has for you until you’re sick of his voice. “Shit, I wanna marry you all over again. Can we do that? I’d marry you everyday, babe.”

“Kook, honey, that sounds romantic but that’s also incredibly impractical and—”

Jungkook stands from his seat and walks over to where you are, kneeling before you with your hand in his. “Baby, I take you as my wife, I do, and I love y—”

The sounds of people clapping and their oohs and ahhs cut his declaration short, as you both realize what it looks like.

“Oh my god, Jungkook, this is so embarrassing,” you chuckle, covering your face now.

You’re adorable when you get shy, and it makes him even more charmed by you, but he also knows that the attention flusters you, so he stands up and glances at the people with their tender eyes, looking like the proud strangers that they are.

“Ah, I’m not proposing. We’re actually married. Over 2 years already, in fact,” he clarifies. “I just got a little carried away and did some dramatic declaration of my love because I’m so in love with my wife and—”

They ooh and ahh even louder and you can’t help but just laugh at the entire scene. Leave it to your husband to make such a big deal out of it all but you admit that it makes your heart leap out of your chest - he’s so smitten, the way you are, and the way he lets you - and everybody else - know is something you’re still getting used to. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and despite your insecurities, he never lets you forget just how much love he has for you.

You motion for him to go back to his seat and he shyly does, his flushed face making him look like that handsome adolescent that you crushed on when you were younger.

“Sorry,” he mouths.

“It’s okay, I love you,” you mouth back.

He smiles that dimpled smile of his and places the card in his jacket pocket. “I’m never going to lose this.”

“So, how long am I supposed to sit still on this thing?”

Jungkook stands next to the stool that you instructed him to settle into, thankful that you’re at least allowing him to sit down and be more comfortable than if you had him raise his arms or something. He’d searched for some nude drawing poses and those he’d found had either very sensual or very boring ones. Sitting on the edge of a stool bare naked doesn’t seem that uncomfortable, or so he hopes.

“Around 30 minutes? That should be enough time for me to draw your silhouette, then we can take breaks after,” you respond, fixing your canvas and your drawing materials.

“You may remove your clothes now and take a seat, Mr. Jeon,” you say.

“Guide me, please? I’m new to this thing.”

You turn to his smug face with an arch of your eyebrow. “You’re not new to being naked in front of me, honey.”

“I’m new to being naked in front of you and then not having you touch me, is what I meant,” he smirks.

You feel your cheeks heat up but you shake your head. This is an art experience, you remind yourself.

Ever since that trip to Alberta during your 2nd year anniversary where you woke up one morning, itching to paint the scenery outside but ended up being enamored by the view of your husband sleeping soundly in bed, wrapped in the soft sheets looking absolutely ethereal, you’ve been wanting to paint him in all his glory. Sure, you got to paint his silhouette that time but it’s different when you’re able to go through the details of his majestic body, one that leaves you craving for him more and more each time.

You were honest about this being a trial for your eventual nude drawing class, but you also want inspiration, maybe use today’s output as a guide for a detailed painting of him. You hope he doesn’t get creeped out by the idea, though. You like painting beautiful things, and there’s just something intimate about capturing the love of your life in an art form that you love.

“Honey, I’m gonna need you to behave today, alright?” You say playfully, as you walk towards him and tug on his shirt.

He removes it with one hand and then slips his boxers off, all the while looking into your eyes as he does so. He’s done this so many times before but he always manages to make you flustered, to make you feel weak and wanting.

“Now, Mrs. Jeon, where do you want me?”

“On the edge, please, with your left leg on the floor and your right heel on the footrest,” you instruct. “Right arm resting behind your back and the left on your lap,” you say, guiding him on the stool and fixing his position the way you want.

He smells so good, as he’d just showered after a morning run, and his tanned form due to his weekend afternoon soccer games makes him glow under the rays of the sun that’s shining through the window of your studio. His tattoos, which now cover a bigger area of his arm, are art on art, and his features - rough yet delicate at the same time - are beautiful. So is his flaccid cock, which rests between his thighs and you have to force yourself not to kneel in front of him and put it in your mouth to make him feel good.

“You comfortable?” You turn to him.

“Yup, except for my lips. They need a kiss from you,” he puckers them, earning him a roll of your eyes, but you give in then pull away before you get lost in the feel of him.

You go back to your seat and start drawing, taking in the lines of his body from his jaw, down to his neck, his arms, his torso, then his legs. You want to capture his silhouette first and fill in the details as you go. It’s not long before you get in the zone, with nothing but the sound of your pencil gliding against the paper, with soft jazz music in the background.

For these first minutes, you look at Jungkook as your subject - a life form whose beauty you’re trying to recreate and to immortalize.

From a few feet away, Jungkook watches you intently. There’s grace in the way you sit in a stool and hold your pencil and flit your gaze from him to the paper. There’s the intensity of your eyes that’s soft as well; the way you bite your lip in concentration is something he finds adorable and sexy at the same time. You mumble to yourself when you’re immersed in something, and he has to stop himself from wanting to kiss you every time that happens.

You’re dressed in boy shorts and a loose tank top, with one of his oversized jackets covering the rest of you. He loves seeing you like this - comfortable, in your element, and absolutely stunning.

“We can take a break,” you say, walking towards him with his tumbler for a drink.

He starts walking around to stretch and you cordon him off your area, making sure he doesn’t see your drawing until it’s finished, and it’s not long after when you instruct him back to the stool to continue your work.

This time is tricky, as you start to focus on the details of Jungkook’s features. His head is tilted slightly so the sharpness of his jaw is accentuated. It takes a while for you to get the angle like you want, and in that period, the amount of time you stare at his throat and the expanse of his neck is more than you hoped.

Your eyes trail down. He’s breathing steadily, but the way his chest lightly raises is enough to remind you of how he is when he’s huffing, panting, sweaty… and you have to blink away the memories, especially as that was the sight you had last night when he took you on the couch after movie night.

His dark nipples are perfect against the backdrop of his pecs - toned and stunning, but the faded stains of your lust on them causes you to jerk at the memory, and you find yourself clearing your throat before you let out a moan.

“You okay there, babe?” You hear him ask, the sultry tone of his voice, unmistakeable.

“Uh-huh,” you lie. “The sun’s just shining through and I feel a bit hot.”

You mindlessly remove your jacket as Jungkook curiously turns to the window that’s now not as bright as it was. When he looks back at you, he sees it. And now he’s the one who can’t shake off the thoughts from last night.

Back to where you are, you’re trying to perfect the lines and dips of his torso, your eyes descending to start on his hips, and it’s when you see it, and you visibly swallow.

His dick definitely didn’t look like that minutes ago.

Your breathing quickens, and you try to focus on the drawing in front of you, but it doesn’t seem to work - that’s still your naked husband on there, a replica of the scene that’s getting you all hot and bothered.

He calls out your name.

“Hmm? Honey, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he says with a low voice.

“Kook, you’re the one who’s hard,” you furrow your brows at him.

“So are you, baby,” he grunts.

You look at him questioningly. He’s now panting, tongue licking his lips, and he cocks his head to motion towards you and that’s when you look down and notice your pert nipples, screaming underneath your thin tank top.

“I—”

“You’re putting on a side show for me, too.”

And that’s when you notice it again - the side of your breast peeking through the low arm holes of your top. You look at him with a shy face, but Jungkook doesn’t miss the hint of a tease on it.

He’d noticed it the moment you took the jacket off and the way you looked so sexy drawing him naked just made his mind wander to last night and how satisfied you looked under him while he plowed into you, your breasts bouncing for him in perfect pace with his thrusts.

“Kook, I want to focus,” you pout.

“Let’s have a break, then,” he suggests. “I’m so close to touching myself to the thought of you but that’s not fun when you’re right there. Please, baby? I’ll get back to my position, I promise. Just let me touch you.”

And who are you to deny your handsome husband who’s begging to have you?

You set aside your pencil and turn towards him, slowly opening your legs to say that you want him, too.

“Come to me, then,” you drawl.

He wastes no time and walks towards you, cups your cheeks in his hands, and kisses you like he hadn’t done it in years.

“Was this part of the consequence?” He grunts, as his mouth finally parts from yours and trails down your neck, nipping and licking your flesh. “Did you want me to sit there and watch you get turned on by me and not be able to do anything?”

“But you’re doing something about it now,” you bite back, before you let out a moan from him pinching your buds.

“And I’m about to do more,” he teases, kneeling in front of you and hurriedly removing your shorts.

He moves the stool for support and spreads your legs, grunting as he smells your essence.

“Fuck.”

“Kook, do something,” you plead.

He smirks before he dives into your cunt, his tongue swiping at your folds and leaving you a quivering mess.

“Oh, god,” you moan, as he kitten licks your throbbing nub repeatedly, the act making you feel hazy. “That’s so—”

The rest of the sentence dies in your throat, as he slips 2 fingers in and hits your spot immediately. It’s obscene, the sounds that his mouth makes as he sucks your flesh and the ones he elicits from you. It’s messy and unfiltered, as his dark gaze lands on you briefly, before he lowers himself even more to nip and lick the back of your thighs, right where it meets your ass, a sensitive part that he’s recently discovered.

His thumb expertly flicks your clit while his mouth does wonders on your flesh, and you hear him growl, curse, and moan against your skin, the vibrations heightening the incoming orgasm that you feel is about to burst from you.

“Kook, I’m close,” you keen, and it signals him to get his mouth back onto your cunt, where a series of tongue movements elicits a scream from you, your thighs reflexively closing, and the sight of Jungkook buried in them will always, always trigger those butterflies in your belly.

You feel yourself weaken as your slick slides out of you, with Jungkook lapping up the mess that he’s made. You’re still shaking, but he does his loving husband duty of massaging your thighs as he helps you come down from your high.

“You always sound so good, baby,” he says, softly kissing your belly now. “Your screams from last night got me so hard earlier, and the way you looked. Fuck, you always look so breathtaking when I take your breath away.”

You merely hum, closing your eyes as you savor his lips on your skin, eliciting another squeal when he nips your clothed buds, still throbbing for him. Your fingers comb through his hair, and even with everything you’ve felt, it’s still not enough.

“Wanna be inside you,” he whispers in your ear, low and desperate, his mouth proceeding to tenderly kiss your neck.

“Okay,” you mumble, standing up now and letting him take a seat.

He leans against the wall and helps you straddle him, your lips sliding against his shaft before you slide down to have him inside you.

“Hmm, so warm,” he grunts against your neck. “I could be here forever.”

“How dramatic,” you tease, kissing his cheek.

He turns to your work, taking in an image of him through your eyes.

“Wow, I look good.”

You burst into laughter. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered or annoyed.”

“Hey, that’s one amazing muse you got there,” he insists, gently lifting you up and down as you both savor each other this way.

“Hmm, he is. It’s not hard to get turned on when that’s what I have to draw,” you smile, pecking his nose now. “And I want to get back to it so let’s continue, shall we?”

He chuckles and kisses you back, shifting for better support and grips your waist to quicken his pace. It’s not long after when you’re both into it again, his mouth capturing your breasts and his tongue, swirling in all the places that he can.

He’s thrusting upward while you meet his motions, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders so you won’t fall off, given how hard he’s now going. You feel his body tense and the sweat pool on his forehead, his parted mouth and hooded eyes adding to your pleasure. With him falling apart under you, it’s not hard for the orgasm to build again.

You fall apart, too, together this time, and your bated breaths fill the room, the buzzing feeling from your high slowly fading.

“Thank you, that was an added perk,” you sigh, as you settle in his warm embrace.

“Yeah, and we have the rest of the day, babe,” he says, kissing your forehead. “We’re probably gonna need more than 4 hours.”

“Well, isn’t this quite the sight?” Junghyun greets you with a teasing smile and a hug. “My sister-in-law, wearing my brother’s soccer jersey. We would’ve thrown a party if this happened then.”

“Well, too bad I wasn’t a fan, then,” you chuckle, hugging him back. “Crowds and male egos weren’t really my thing. It still isn’t, actually.”

“Yeah, I know. It took marrying him for you to even consider going to his games,” Junghyun says. “But I’m glad he’s found time to do this again. He really missed playing, you know? It’s like he’s reliving his glory days again. Minus the girlfriend of the season in his jersey cheering for him. Until now.”

“For the record, I have been cheering for him,” you correct. “Just up there, away from people.”

“And what brings you here at the center, now?” Your brother asks, making way for Nari and Yeji to sit next to you. “And in his jersey, too.”

“Ah, we did that horse race bet. This is what he wanted if he won,” you share.

“But didn’t you win?” Junghyun asks. “Kook told me so, although he didn’t say what you wanted him to do.”

“Yeah, well…” you trail, suddenly feeling flustered as you recall last week and how that nude drawing session took an entire day because every break you both took would last an hour. You did finish the piece; it just took longer than expected.

“You know, boring stuff,” you shrug. “But I realized that he may have been wanting me to show up in this because you know, it’s Jungkook. And well, what’s the harm? Maybe I’ll just be extremely embarrassed but it’s okay. I mean, this placard isn’t cringey at all,” you smile sarcastically, earning you a round of laughter from everyone.

“Knowing Kook, he’s gonna be extremely and annoyingly giddy about this,” your brother says. “It doesn’t really take much to make him happy. All he needs is you, really, and any public declaration of your love is just the icing on the cake,” he winks.

The thought leaves you feeling giddy, enough to temper the nervous feeling you have.

You were never one who likes to take the spotlight, and showing up here in your husband’s jersey with a sign to boot definitely screams ‘center of attention.’ But anything for him, you remind yourself. You want him to know that you adore him, and that if you were that type of person, you’d brag about him to the rest of the world that he’s yours and you’re his, in a not disturbingly possessive way, of course.

The soccer field in the Clubhouse isn’t that big, but it’s enough to play the sport leisurely. There are benches and bleachers for spectators to sit on, and like what you expected, there are a lot of familiar faces in the crowd. The VIP Clubhouse is a second home to many of them, after all, and this is by all means entertainment for them.

You spot Jungkook running towards the field, perhaps returning after a few laps around the nearby oval track. He does that before doing anything physical, and though it’s just a game for fun, the competitive gene in him just has to be at his best for this.

At the center of the field, Jungkook starts to stretch. He hears one of his teammates release a breath. “Is it wrong of me to say that I love weekend games because the pretty ladies come to watch?” The man says. “It’s like added pressure but I gotta say, I like the attention.”

“Are they here for you, though?” Another man teases. “You’re not the golden boy like Jeon over here. You know those pretty ladies would swarm him if he wasn’t married.”

“I know, which is why I’m getting on his good side so he could put out a good word for me, maybe for that chick in the first row, the one in blue and yellow,” the first man cocks his head towards the bleachers. “She’s gorgeous.”

Jungkook follows his teammate’s gaze, his own eyes widening at what he sees. He takes the man’s chin and directs it to face him.

“Look elsewhere, yeah? That’s my wife you’re looking at.”

“No shit.”

“Golden boy, remember?” Jungkook smirks, leaving his dumbfounded teammates to run towards you, his heart fluttering as he gets closer to see that you’re wearing his college jersey.

“Baby,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You’re here. I thought it’s girls’ night.”

“Yeah, this is part of girls’ night,” you smile. “Nari and Yej wanted to ogle at hot guys and well, you’ve got good-looking teammates.”

“You mean other than me, right? Because I should be the only hot and good-looking one for you.”

“Hmm, let’s see… there’s–”

“Hey!” he pouts. “Joo-hyuk there was eyeing you and he’s pretty handsome.”

“Ah, goodness. I didn’t come in your jersey only to look at other men, Kook,” you nudge his arm. “And, I didn’t spend the afternoon with the girls making this if I wasn’t going to be paying attention to you,” you add, pulling the cardboard sign from the paper bag you brought and showing it to him.

There’s an action photo of him from one of his college games that you dug up, with the words ‘Here for golden star player, Jeon Jungkook (my husband)’ in big letters next to it. “It’s back-to-back, too, so even those behind me will know who I’m here for,” you wink.

“Baby,” he finally says, after what seems like minutes of him staring at the sign. “You didn’t have to.”

You cock your eyebrow at him.

“I’m kidding. I’ve been secretly hoping you’d do this. And I’m losing my shit right now,” he laughs, hugging you again. “But… you won the bet, and we had an amazingly spectacular time last week. What’s with this?”

“You just looked really excited when you brought this up,” you say. “And well, even if I’m shaking in embarrassment right now, I really wanted to come and let all those watching know that the really handsome player wearing number 7 is my husband, and I love him very much. I even wrote it on the sign!”

You raise it up, and he has to squint because in the bottom corner, in tiny letters, you indeed wrote I love you.

“Well, that’s readable, at least from up close,” he laughs. “But thank you. I’m so pumped up right now. I’m gonna do so well and you’re gonna be so turned on that–”

“Alright, we all know you’re gonna do so well, honey,” you glare at him.

“I will,” he smirks. “Raise that up every time I have the ball, okay?”

“Fine,” you say in submission, thinking he’s absolutely childish and unfairly adorable.

He kisses you deeply before he runs to his teammates, yelling at them to make sure you hear. “Tonight’s game plan - pass me the ball every time.” He turns to wink at you and you playfully shake your head.

“I married a hormonal teenager,” you turn to your friends and brothers, who all laugh at you.

“Yeah, we know,” they say in unison, and you go back to your seat and make sure to catch Jungkook’s eyes.

His soft smile mirrors yours, and you know that right this moment, his heart flutters the same way that yours does.

Jungkook’s hand sneaks around your waist and he whispers in your ear. “You okay, babe?”

You nod with a smile, squeezing his knee to let him know you’re sincerely fine, and he smiles in return.

After the soccer game - which they won and had him scoring 2 goals because, like he said, he was “inspired” tonight - his teammates invited him, you, and your friends to dinner and drinks at a nearby restaurant. He was ready to turn them down, but you insisted that you were okay with hanging out with them. The guys were teasing Jungkook non stop because of how hyped up and giddy he was the entire time, going soft every time he turned to you and saw you with your sign up for him to see.

“Jungkook’s a beast on the field but a menace outside of it,” Joo-hyuk had said. “We kinda wanna see him be a total softie around his wife.”

It was hard to say no, not when your husband looked a little flustered but totally adorable and proud. And though warming up to new people wasn’t immediate for you, your husband’s warmth and comfort was enough to make you feel at ease.

He’s taken to calling them his friends now, he’d told you, as they’re the ones he usually ends up being teammates with, and they’re not insufferable like some of those he’d met. They’re laid-back like he is, and Jungkook always gravitated towards people like himself.

“Are you okay?” You ask, turning towards him.

“Yeah, though to be honest, I’m itching to go home.”

“Yeah? But we just finished dinner. I thought you guys wanted a round of drinks.”

“They do, but not me, not when you’re here.” His cheeky smile turns naughty, as he leans to mumble in your ear. “I know I wanted this, but seeing you in my jersey is doing things to me.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and just the thought of Jungkook being turned on by you wearing something of his is somehow turning you on, too.

“Uh, maybe we can stay just a bit longer, so it doesn’t seem like we’re too eager to leave?” You suggest.

Jungkook pretends to think about it, but decides that he doesn’t really care. He’s been waiting to be with you since he saw you earlier, and he doesn’t really mind leaving his teammates out here nor worry about what they’d think.

“Or not,” you chuckle, knowing what he’s thinking by the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. “We can go a–”

“Bye everyone, we’re gonna go ahead,” he tells the group before you can even finish your sentence. “We’ve got, uh, important business to attend to,” he says, pulling out the chair for you and taking your hand.

“Important business my ass,” someone laughs. “We know what you’re on, Jeon. Go ahead, lovebirds. Your home is waiting.”

Nari and Yeji can’t help their giggles as you pout, mouthing your apologies that you’re leaving them when you dragged them out here, but they assure you that it’s okay. They have common friends with the guys, and they don’t mind being left with them.

“Great, see you guys again!” Jungkook waves, and you hold him back to say your proper goodbyes before you both walk out of the restaurant and head to the car.

“Jeon Jungkook, what was that!” You playfully smack his arm as he starts driving. “Important business? Seriously? Who would buy that?”

“I’m sorry, babe! It was the first thing that I thought of!” He frowns, knowing you don’t like being put on the spot like that. “I just… I feel like I’m reliving the glory days of my youth, you know? Winning a game, seeing my girl cheer for me–”

“Going home with that girl and sleeping with her?” You finish.

“Hey! I don’t mean it in that way!”

“That’s totally how your youth was, Kook,” you tease, “which, by the way, you’re literally still living. We’re still in our 20s, honey.”

“I know, but it’s different, obviously. It’s you, the absolute love of my life,” he says, kissing your hand. “It didn’t feel like this before.”

You merely hum in response and kiss his hand back. You know this, you feel this, and ever since that talk you had the other week about making new memories to replace the not-so-good ones from your past, it feels different, too.

You make it home in record time, with Jungkook pulling you close and peppering your face with kisses all the way up to the floor of your apartment.

He watches you walk towards the door and suddenly, the adrenaline dies down. The overwhelming feeling of lust he’d felt earlier fades.

Yes, he still very much wants to bend you over the couch and fuck you from behind while you still wear his jersey. He still wants to have you on top of him, over him, and next to him as he pushes inside you. And he definitely will, among other things.

But right now, there’s just you and him, under the dim light of the foyer, in the home you both created.

And as you curiously smile at him, he thinks back to the past weeks - even months and years - of all these dates and trips, and he thinks that whether it’s in the quiet intimacy of your studio, or in front of a dozen people you’ve just met, you will love each other like it’s all you know, like it’s all there is.

“You okay, Kook?” You ask. “I thought we had some important business to do,” you chuckle.

“We do,” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you tenderly. “Have I told you that I love you today?”

“Yes, in the elevator, minutes ago,” you remind him.

“Okay, good. Don’t ever forget that.”

He wraps his arms around you and you hug him back.

He sways you a little before he goes back to kissing you again - slow, purposeful, and deep, like all the times he has when he’s feeling a little sentimental. Wandering hands explore each other’s bodies, until he’s turning you around, his lips grazing the side of your neck, his fingers undoing the button of your jeans.

You feel your body come alive from the warmth of his mouth and his expert hands, removing your clothes, even your bra, except for his jersey. His hardened length pokes your back, and it’s when he leads your body to lean over the armrest of the couch that you get what he wants to do.

His kisses on the back of your thighs, up to your sopping cunt and your ass cheeks, are soft. His caresses on your torso and your breasts underneath his shirt are gentle. Even the way he enters you from behind - immediate and needy - is more amorous than anything, and it’s his desire that you feel overtaking the room. He’s careful but passionate, and somehow you think this is him, savoring the way you looked earlier and right now.

He doesn’t say much other than how perfect you are for him, that you’re meant for him. His grunts and moans are on pace with yours, and once both your orgasms start to build up, he removes himself from you - unfortunate, really, but you know how he is. He definitely wants to watch you come for him.

He guides you to sit this time, on top of him where he has a full view of you in a top that bears his name, that lets everyone know who he belongs with.

“You were so beautiful today,” he hums, as he meets your thrusts, his hands tracing your outer thighs before they hold your waist steady. “All I wanted was to see you scream for me.”

“I do that all that time, Kook,” you laugh.

“You know what I mean,” he smiles.

And you do. Seeing Jungkook do something that he enjoys gives you a kind of happiness that you never knew you could feel. He looks so free, so radiant whenever he’s on the field. It’s always been one of the things he liked doing growing up, but somehow you think he felt like playing a role then, too. He was expected to do well in everything, after all, and being able to do this recreationally means he gets to savor the feeling of just being, of just doing.

The pace speeds up this time, and you can’t help but touch yourself as you both go, grinding against each other, the steady yet passionate thrusts enough to let the orgasm build just right.

“Kook,” you moan, as you hold on to his propped up thighs behind you when he starts quickening his movements. “I’m close.”

“I got you, baby,” he grunts. “Scream my name, yeah? I want to hear you scream my name.”

He pairs his pounding with flicks on your clit, and with your eyes locked on his - lustful, desirous - and with his clenched jaw and hooded eyes, you give in, screaming his name like he wants. He comes shortly after you do, bated breaths filling the room now.

He takes you in his arms, cradles you like he wants you all for himself. Like he said, you’re perfect for him; you’re meant for him.

“You looked really happy there earlier,” you mumble, the feeling of sleep closing in on you.

“I was,” he grins. “It’s definitely in the top of games I’ve played, I’d say.”

“Above your championship games?” You turn to him.

“Yeah. I mean, those were a lot of fun. I won’t lie that sometime in high school, a part of me wished you’d come see my games, so I could show off or something, or maybe to know you cared I guess, even if I didn’t really pay attention to you,” he admits. “So now, the fact that you get to be there, watching me, and then hang out with my teammates, and then come home with me and do this? Yeah, that’s tough to beat.”

He chuckles, but you hear the longing in his voice.

“I’m sorry, about never showing up at your games,” you whisper. “I always had Minhyuk and the girls update me, though. They’d even send photos that I insisted I didn’t want but they were nice to see.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he comforts. “I’ve accepted that we were very different people back then. So this whole making new memories thing is good. We get to reminisce how it used to be and smile because we’re together now.”

“Hmm. So there’s still that playground at our village, your estate, my family’s, your family’s ski lodge where 10-year old Kook said I was boring for not joining the beginner’s ski class, the–”

“Those are literally all the places we grew up in,” he chuckles. “Wow, was I really mean to you our entire childhood?”

“You weren’t mean, just… you know, not a fan of mine,” you laugh, kissing his cheek.

“Well, looks like we’ve got an entire lifetime to do all that, huh? Make new memories with our siblings, their kids, maybe our kids, too?”

The thought makes your heart race, and you smile at him who’s looking at you with stars in his eyes. “That sounds great, honey,” you say.

Jungkook makes you tea, prepares your bath, tucks you in bed, and holds you in his arms. His breathing softens, and you know it was a good day.

And as you look at his sleeping form, you know - if there’s anything that being with him has showed you, it’s that whether it’s fears, regrets, insecurities, or overwhelming joy that you both share, you will love each other like it’s all you know, like it’s all there is.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #husband jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfiction #bts jungkook #please love me

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harrarthellix · 6 months

Text

First time writing bg3 Raphael fanfic. Be gentle pls

No title, just a drabble (1)

He/him Tav X Raphael, post Karsus Crown deal is fulfilled

For the longest time he had been no more than the devil's plaything, or at least that's what the soon to be master of the nine hells always spat out of his mouth: toy, amusement, distraction. If only he knew how well his little mortal understood the actual meaning of those twisted sounds, maybe he would have been a bit more careful when saying them out loud, as just the pronunciation, the accent or even the hesitation were the clear giveaway for the actual feeling buried under layers of fancy clothes and the red, bloody red, skin. Black and closing orange eyes pierced all the way to the soul every time, a soul that could have been snatched long ago but there it was, in place.

"Well, my little rat" the devil hissed through his twisted tongue. "You honored your side of the contract and I did mine. I have no obligation of keeping you safe nor even caring yet here you are... Making me lose my precious time again with that snarky little puppy eyes and those horrid lips twisting into a sweet, sweet smile"

In the insides of his mind, Raphael was being the most brilliant and subtle, master of poetry to hide the urges of begging for attention and a rough caress, yet his little mortal was not impressed. He knew the drill, the script of this twisted play.

"Yet you manage to always get some mercy without even begging. Fascinating"

Finally, Raphael had decided for himself to behave and get closer to the mortal, bating slightly his wings as a sing of excitement, leaning closer to that pretty face and land a sweet kiss on the forehead.

"You win again this time. You made me waste my precious time with you".

#baldur's gate raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 raphael #bg3 raphael fanfic

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daechwitatamic · 2 years

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Faithful || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon) - thank you so much for the super fast turnaround on this!!!!)

Title: Faithful - a Complete Faith epilogue

WC: 3.7k

Warnings: explicit sex, kissing, language - minors DNI pls

The request/summary: Again, @pamzn is to blame for this. The request for the “cut-away” scene in Chapter 10 is here, as is the request for dinner with Taehyung’s lovingly nosy mom, and a few little scenes of where CF!Tae and OC end up.

Alternate Summary:

Note: I just want to say thank you to everyone who cared about these dummies with me along the way. :’) I appreciate your presence so much, and I hope my story brought you escape, peace, happiness - whatever you needed.

“Tae,” you start, “I want to apologize.” This gets his attention. He’s frowning, trying to figure out what you’ve done wrong. You continue, “I’m sorry for letting my fear be bigger than my trust. But I do trust you. I always did. I actually…”

You swallow, looking at the floor, then back at him. You have to be brave. It’s your turn to be brave. “Fuck, I actually love you. I’ve loved you since the lake. I think I’ve loved you since you threw a water bottle at me after we fought.”

You laugh a little, and he’s just looking at you, eyes still wide. You push on. Whatever happens, at least he’ll know.

“I remember you telling me that no one ever fought for you, no one made you feel like you’re worth the fight.” You spread your hands before you, like saying here I am. “I’m fighting. I want to be with you. I want to choose to trust you every day. I want to choose to love you every day.”

He’s pulling you by the wrist across the couch and into his lap, hands going for your face as soon as you’re close enough. You straddle him happily, heart soaring, pulse racing, as he kisses you again and again.

As you make your way into your room, still trying to kiss as you walk, you kick your bedroom door shut unceremoniously. There’s part of you that thinks you should maybe slow this down, talk things out a little more; you’d apologized, you’d climbed the hurdle and told Taehyung you love him - but what does it mean? Are you back together?

It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter, not now when his mouth is moving, hot and insistent, against your neck. Not now, when his hands are gripping your waist like he’s scared you’ll get tugged out of his grasp. Not now, when his forehead nudges your cheek, urging you to make more room for him in the crook of your neck, a happy, rumbling groan spilling from his throat.

The last time you’d kissed him, drunk on a dancefloor, it had felt like a bloody victory, like a hard-won battle littered with casualties. It was a moment tinged with darker glimmers - all the ugliness between you two, the guilt you carried at knowing you’d caused him pain, the ache of being without him, the uncertainty if it could mean anything beyond his mouth on yours. It had felt like: I’ve won, but at what cost? It felt like: I win, but as soon as it ends, I lose.

This time, it feels like coming home.

It feels like breaking the surface of water after holding your breath just a few strained moments too long.

It feels like the first moment of reprieve when you step inside out of a rainstorm, when the peppering of cold droplets and bite of battering wind suddenly stop, and even though you’re still cold and damp, it still feels so much better than it did a second ago.

You can’t decide what you want to do with your hands; they cup his face, tug his hair, hold fast to his biceps, sneak under the hem of his shirt. You want to touch all of him at once. You want to memorize what each centimeter of him feels like under your fingertips just in case you ever have to miss him again.

His shirt is off, somehow. You don’t notice a pause in the kissing when it happens. Your fingers skin the flat of his belly and he shudders, squirms.

You’re still in the clothes you wore to work - you haven’t been home to change. Taehyung works his way back up your throat, teeth grazing just slightly - enough to raise goosebumps along your arm. He kisses you again, insistent still. He kisses you like he’s asking for more, every time. Kiss me more. Kiss me harder.

He straightens and goes for the buttons of your blouse, eyes steady on yours. You look back at him evenly, drinking him in. You can’t believe how beautiful he is, sometimes. You can’t believe you get to claim him. You can’t believe he wants to claim you.

Your shirt and bra join Taehyung’s shirt on the ground. You both step over them, towards your bed. Taehyung’s large hands splay over your ribs, fingers settling naturally in the gaps between bones, like he’s trying to sink between them, finding the fastest route to your heart.

He presses his forehead to yours, inhales, holds his breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers on the exhale. His fingers twitch against your ribcage. He shifts on his feet, presses his head more firmly against yours. “I’m so sorry for all of it.”

“Tell me after,” you murmur, fingers playing with the waistband of his sweatpants. “Wait until after, and we can both say how sorry we are.”

His hands leave your ribs to roam lovingly across your back, to tug you closer by your waist as he kisses you again. The empty spaces he leaves behind feel cold in his absence.

You experience a moment of deja vu as he unbuttons your black slacks, slides the zipper down, uses both hands to guide the waistband over the curve of your ass, leaving you only in a not-cute pair of underwear, since you hadn’t seen this coming at all when you got dressed for work that morning. Taehyung doesn’t seem to care, or even notice; he’s too busy running his busy fingers over all the parts of you he’s missed for the last few months - gripping your thighs, rubbing along your ass, slipping through the slickness seeping through the cotton of your panties, pressing just so over your clit, the way he remembers you like it, earning a hopeful, eager moan from you.

The deja vu because it feels a lot like your first time with him, after the first date he took you on. He’d been slow with you that night, eyes seeking yours constantly, checking for any sign that you weren’t enjoying something, or if you felt uncomfortable in any way.

It had been an appreciated but wasted effort on his part; you wanted all of it, all of him, every touch, every sound, every look.

It’s the same tonight. He’s being careful with you, and you don’t want careful.

Tonight, you’re burning, filled with an inferno - your confession and the months you’d spent painfully apart acting as accelerants. You can’t wait; it’s all on fire already.

“Touch me,” you beg him, and he gasps against your mouth as you continue. “Please, Taehyung, please touch me.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he teases, fingers pressing into your ass. You let him guide your hips forward, into his. You press against him needily, provocating. His sweatpants hide nothing, not the heat of him, nor the wet circle where his tip must be leaking.

“Don’t tease,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes, pressing even more insistently against him, as if you can entice him into doing what you want just from proximity and friction.

Maybe you can. He lowers his mouth to yours again, reaching down as he does to push his remaining clothing over his hips and down his legs. The movement sends you backwards towards the bed, the kiss breaking, and you let your back meet the mattress, scooting back to make room. Taehyung crawls over top of you and hooks his thumbs under the waistband of your panties, pulling them away and adding them to the mess on the floor.

Your heart pounds in your stomach as sheer want courses through you. Taehyung’s body along yours feels divine - even the most mundane parts. Even his bare legs against your legs, even his stomach touching your stomach. Every part of him looks like sin, even his arms as they cage you in from above, even the little curve of his ass.

“Please,” you whisper again, because you need him now. You’ve never needed anybody or anything this much in your life. He reaches between your legs, those happy grumbles still falling from his lips as he lightly scrapes his teeth along your jawline, but you make a discontented noise. He pulls back, looking at you quizzically, hand stilling in place.

“What’s wrong?” he breathes, eyes combing over you, trying to decide if he’d hurt you somehow.

“I don’t need that - I want you - please.” You can’t finish a thought, you can’t make sentences. You just want him, you want him as close as he can be, you want to feel him inside and out, you want to forget who and where you are and become only aware of the stretch and friction he gives you, only aware of his body beneath each desperately clinging fingertip.

He understands. He always does. When he enters you, slowly but unfalteringly, you groan - low and loud and broken. The noise drowns out the hiss he releases from between his teeth.

“Baby,” he breathes as he bottoms out, hips flush with yours. You shift minutely, trying to take him just a little deeper, gasping at the sensation when you succeed. He stills, holding himself over you, and you meet his eyes. They swim with something you can’t name, roving over your face.

This is what you wanted, what you were burning for. You reach up, brush his hair away from his eyes, slip your hand along his cheek. He closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it, just a little. Then he’s lowering himself, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and sliding out of you only to slam back in hard enough to make you cry out.

You lose yourself in feelings and sounds - his body solid under your searching hands, his stomach muscles rippling as he keeps a quick pace, his breaths coming out in stutters and stops, breathy little whines punctuating each exhale. Your legs shake as the tide of pleasure pulls tighter and tighter in the base of your belly, tingles surging down your legs and settling in your toes as you meet him stroke for stroke.

Then, abruptly, his quick pace disappears. He slows, each stroke purposeful, ending each thrust with a little extra push. His arms come tighter around your shoulders, his forehead drops to yours. He presses all of himself to you and you revel in it, drown in his heart racing against your own rib cage, sink beneath the feeling of each teeth-chattering thrust, cling desperately to his biceps as if they are the only thing tethering you to this earth.

The sensations and feelings swim together, a vortex of happiness and pleasure both. You’re overwhelmed with it - the joy of having him again, at the way he’s cradling you between his arms so carefully, the surge in your chest that screams I love him I love him I love him and the fact that you no longer feel the need to hide that scream away.

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung noses closer to your ear and whispers, “God, I love you.” The words are followed by a shuddering breath as he buries himself as far inside you as he can reach. “I have for - Y/N, I -”

“I know,” you whisper, reaching up to kiss him again. He rests his weight on one elbow and cups your face with the other, hips stilling. You break the kiss, smiling sheepishly. “Is it bad to say it for the first time while we’re fucking?”

“I don’t care,” he laughs on an exhale. Without warning, he scoops one arm under your waist, adjusting the angle and starting a bruising pace that makes you clench your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut. Your response to him comes out in shattered syllables, caught up in a web of moans and gasps. When you come unraveled moments later, his name leaves your mouth in a single, drawn-out breath, your eyes rolling back as your muscles all go taut. He fucks you through it, each breath he lets out just a little more desperate than the one before as his rhythm jumps and stumbles.

“Fuck, baby! I’m -” he warns you, and you hold him tighter, whisper praises and coaxes, urging him on. He comes with a shout, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut, a deep flush working its way up his chest.

He drops next to you, panting, and you stretch to kiss him again. He weaves his fingers through your hair, kissing you sweetly.

“I’ve been trying to tell you since the beginning, Y/N,” he tells you, when you pull away, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “It’s different with you. It’s been different with you the whole time. I’ve been in love with you since before you were even available. I never doubted for a minute that we could make it.”

“Complete faith,” you murmur. “You had complete faith.”

“From day one,” he agrees, and kisses you again.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Mrs. Kim says lightly, reaching for her glass of water. Across the dinner table, Taehyung shakes his head at his mother’s predictability. He knows exactly what’s coming. Honestly, he can’t believe she waited two weeks to broach the topic. “How is Y/N? Have you spoken to her much since the day she came to help you?”

Taehyung’s been in this position too many times - his mother keeping her eyes mostly on her plate, shooting him furtive little glances, her tone hopeful despite her deepest efforts to school it into mild interest, hoping this time her baby boy will give her news she’s wanted for him. His father eats silently, letting his wife pry. And Taehyung - usually - starts dancing around questions, answering without answering, diverting and redirecting conversation like it’s what he was born to do.

Ah, she works with me, of course we’ve talked. It’s right on this tip of his tongue.

Normally, he wants to avoid the fifty questions. Normally, he doesn’t want to see any spark of hope on his mother’s face. Because he knows - he always knows it isn’t what she hopes it is.

But, this time. This time, it could be.

What would be the harm in being honest, this time? Taehyung knows he isn’t going anywhere - and neither are you, not again. Not after you both waded through rushing currents to get here. Not after you fought back against everything you ever learned about how to be loved and learned a new way, for him.

“We’ve talked,” Taehyung says, heart racing. This confession feels bigger, heavier, than telling you he loved you. Telling his family was somehow harder, way more frightening. “We’re… we’re kind of dating.”

“Kind of,” his father echoes with a scoff. “Say what you mean, Taehyung.”

Taehyung straightens in his chair. “We’re dating,” he clarifies, as asked. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Taehyung!” Mrs. Kim cries, clasping her hands together. “You’ve never -!”

“I know, I know,” Taehyung grumbles, feeling himself flushing.

“How long has it been…” Mrs. Kim pauses, hunting for the word she wants. “Official?”

Taehyung sighs good-naturedly. “Since the day we brought you to the hospital together,” he admits.

“Is it serious?” his father asks, and Taehyung almost drops his glass. His mother interrogates him about who he’s dating; his father acts indifferent and gets all the gossip later from his wife.

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, shell-shocked straight into honesty. “It’s pretty serious. We dated… most of the summer. We spent some time apart in the fall, but… we worked it out.”

Mrs. Kim says nothing, which is frankly alarming. Taehyung peers at her closely, noticing some color on her face, a pinched, emotional look taking over her features.

“Ah, Mom,” he scolds, standing and picking up his empty plate. He heads towards the kitchen to rinse it, giving her a reassuring shoulder pat on his way by. He thinks it’s over, but when she hugs him goodbye on his way to his car at the end of the night, she holds him in place and whispers, “I’m so happy. She seems so wonderful for you.”

“She’s okay,” Taehyung says, half-teasing, and Mrs. Kim swats at his arm.

“We’d love to have her for dinner sometime,” she says carefully. “When you’re ready.”

“Okay,” Taehyung says. “When we’re ready.”

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

On the other side of the altar, Taehyung’s eyes crinkle shut as he grins, his smile taking up his whole face. You feel your own heart swell, as Nikki presses her lips to Seokjin’s and their friends and family cheer heartily.

Later, on the dance floor, he holds you close as you sway together to a slow song, leading you in lazy circles.

Not many couples join you dancing; it’s late in the night, and everyone’s energy has started to flag. It gives you some privacy as you lean your weight against Taehyung, resting your head against his chest, listening to his heart. It’s one of your favorite things to do.

And, as such, you notice something - his heart is beating fast. You lift your head again, peering at him carefully.

“You okay?” you ask gently. He meets your eyes, instantly looking caught, maybe a little guilty. He clutches your hand a little tighter and spins you in a new direction, as if he can dance away from the question. “Taehyung?” you prod.

He sighs, looks determinedly over your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he admits finally. He notices your alarm and quickly adds, “Nothing bad!”

“O-kay,” you say slowly. The song you were dancing to ends, and Taehyung leads you to the edge of the dancefloor. “Want to get some air together?” you ask him. Despite his assurances, you still feel anxious. Taehyung doesn’t get like this - nervous. Not with you.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. His wavy hair bounces with the motion.

Outside, a long, sloping lawn leads to a line of trees. You know the river runs beyond them, and you can see the bridge lit up in the distance. The air is chilly, summer not fully in bloom just yet.

“What’s going on?” you ask. “Talk to me, Taehyung.”

He sighs, reaches for your hands. “I’ve been thinking…” he says finally, “and I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”

“You’ve got to just spit it out,” you beg him. “You’re scaring the crap out of me.”

He smiles ruefully, gives both of your hands a squeeze. He licks his lips nervously and tries again. “I’ve been thinking about… living together.”

You freeze, leaning back a little to look at him.

He hurries to continue. “If you don’t want to join me at my place, we could do yours. Or we could look for a new place together. Or if you don’t feel ready, it’s okay, we don’t have to, we can wait -”

“Your place has my nook,” you say, cutting off his nervous babbling. He shuts his mouth with a snap, looking at you with widened eyes.

“You - it - what?” he manages.

You say it again, calmly, though your heart beats against your sternum so hard it almost hurts. “My quiet-morning-time nook. It’s at your place. And you’ve got the balcony.”

“So…” He’s still looking at you, wide-eyed. “So, you want to? You’ll move in with me?”

You grin at him, suddenly so happy you want to hop around. “Yeah,” you tell him, still grinning. “Yeah, I want to.”

He kisses you hard, one hand coming to the base of your neck. You kiss him back happily, lips still trying to smile even as you give them other directions.

“Taehyung!” you bellow, bending down to pick up the small pile of dirty clothes from your bedroom floor. “If your clothes can make it next to the hamper, then your clothes can make it into the hamper!”

“Don’t yell!” he calls back from the living room. “You’ll upset the baby!”

You enter the living room, playfully scowling, arms crossed.

“I’m not a baby,” Sierra grouses, not looking away from the tv screen. A white controller is in her hands, her fingers working the control deftly. Beside her, Taehyung’s hands do the same on his own controller.

You sink down beside them, careful not to block the screen - they’re scary when they gang up on you.

“Mom’s almost here,” you tell Sierra, after checking your messages on your phone. “Last round, okay?”

“Yeah,” she grunts. “I kicked his ass anyway.”

“Hey!” Taehyung objects loudly, as you add, “Don’t swear, Sierra.”

“You swear,” she points out. “And Taehyung swears.”

You narrow your eyes at him, accusing. Over Sierra’s head, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Sometimes more than others,” he says saucily, and you whack him with a pillow. Sierra shrieks that you made her lose right as the round ends.

After you escort Sierra downstairs to your mom’s waiting car, you join Taehyung on the balcony. The sun is setting, casting everything in an orange tint. It reminds you of the night you ended things, right here, right as the sun set. The memory still hurts, a little, but it’s made better by the knowledge that it led you and Taehyung to this: your life together, the ability to have lazy evenings and hurried mornings together, the people you love around you. Contentment. Stability. Him.

“Nikki and Jin want us to come to the restaurant,” you tell Taehyung, eyes on your phone screen. “You up for it?”

He shrugs easily. “Why not? I’ll text Jimin.”

You sit beside him, resting your head on his shoulder, and feel the peace of the moment. He turns and gives the top of your head a kiss as he waits for Jimin’s answer to come in.

Sometimes you wish you could go back in time to your past self, tell her to shake free of Ben sooner, tell her to give Taehyung a fair chance, tell her not to walk away from him and the love he’s ready to give you. But mostly, you think as he reaches an arm over your shoulders, you want to tell her that it’ll all be fine in the end - she just has to hang in there.

She just has to have faith.

#complete faith fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #bts x reader

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mirsvintagesonytv · 11 months

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BSD Figure skating AU !!!

I've had this idea bouncing round my head for so long because I skate and i need the drama of the sport as the main plotline in the fic for ONCE instead of romance so HERE WE GO:

Also some context before i go; this is written BEFORE the ISU raised the age limit for seniors from 15 to 17, so this will reflect that. In this AU, it is based loosely off both current skaters and former skaters, ill make another post about who each character is modelled after, BUT the time periods these skaters are from fluctuate from now all the way back to 2014, so in this AU the only quads that have been landed by men are 4 toeloop and Salchow, and none in the womans. COOL NOW ON WITH THE RAMBLE!!!!

Dazai Osamu, prodigy figure skater under infamous coach Mori Ougai. He, alongside his teammate, friend and rival Nakahara Chuuya, sweep Juniors for their first two seasons, with Dazai winning every competition he enters.

Commentators and experts describe him as the future of figure skating and claim he has a talent that can't be trained. This includes very limited amounts of pre-rotation despite Mori's way of coaching (which teaches his skaters to rotate from the back instead of the hips), incredible artistry, and beautiful spins

Both him and Chuuya are tagged to be the two most likely contenders for the gold medal in the next olympic cycle, which as of their first junior season, is 3 years away, over current senior world champion and current 2 time Olympic Gold medallist Dostoyevsky and the Japanese National Champion at the time, Edogawa Ranpo.

Two years later, in their first senior season, Dazai becomes the youngest Japanese man to complete the grand slam, winning every competition he entered, beating out Fyodor by a heavy margin

This all points towards Dazai being the next olympic champion and subsequently he qualifies for the national team.

The next season starts out strong when he once again takes the GPF gold, and then wins again at the japanese nationals

At the olympics, Dazai is chosen twice for the Team event, making history by breaking multiple records and acquiring the gold for the team. Everything points to him sweeping the individual event the next week.

However, in the days before the individual event, a japanese news outlet reports that Dazai had failed a drug test during Nationals earlier that year.

At first Mori stays quiet, until he gives some half hearted excuse shifting the blame off of himself whilst the media continue to hound Dazai, and other skaters become animous towards him, blaming him for doping/ruining the competition.

Dazai is allowed to compete, and as a result, the prediction of three years that he would take gold is flushed down the drain as he fumbles through both programs, placing in 4th.

The hearing for his doping case is adjourned soon after, finding him innocent. He is reinstated for competition just before worlds, where fans expect him to take Gold and reclaim his title after the mess at the olympics.

He doesn't and proceedes to bomb out at worlds, later withdrawing from the world team trophy and not being heard from all summer.

The next season, Dazai comes back for test skates, visibly injured and distressed, abandoning Mori's coaching team the week after in favour of Fukuzawa and former world champion and japanese skating legend Oda Sakunosuke.

OKAY THATS AS FAR AS I GOT!!!! thats like the expostition of it all or like the kind of intro to what i have planned for this fic!! i love rambling im gonna write this istg. SEND ME ASKS PLS ABT ANY CHARACTER THIS AU IS MY BABY.

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neowinestainedress · 1 year

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push and pull | suh johnny

title: push and pull | part of christmas must be something more

pairing: suh johnny x oc

summary: fighting for dominance with johnny is not a smart idea, jade knows, but she doesn’t seem to care.

genre: smut, non-idol au, established relationship, (implied) polyamorous relationship, smutmas

warnings: power play | sex toys (c*ck ring), handjob, oral sex (m receiving), rimming (m receiving), edging, orgasm denial, 'forced' orgasm (not noncon, it's just pride getting in the way), multiple orgasms, slight fem dom, switch!oc, switch(not really)!johnny

words: 5.194k

taglist: @webscreams @multislut @roxyvogue @dullparadisewithtxt @yutas-princess02 @seongwhaffels @cosmiczen @adorejhyun @douma-me @more-douma-pls | couldn't tag: @yutascoffee127

a/n: i know i was supposed to post this yesterday but i'm extremely busy with my thesis and also after what happened yesterday to the neos i wasn't in the mood to finish editing this and post it. taeyong story will come out next week! anyway, wanted to write this dynamic between them for so long so i hope you like it!

Johnny knew her.

Johnny knew exactly what Jade was trying to do. He didn’t need to drag the words out of her mouth to understand the evil plan that was running in her mind.

It was quite funny, actually, to see how she thought it was working, slowly trying to make her way into his brain and turning him into something he wasn’t.

“We’re all alone,” she said, trotting down the stairs, sitting next to him on the couch and starting to caress his nape, making him smirk. And he wanted to remark how he wasn’t Taeyong, and apparently not even Jaehyun, seeing that it seemed that for a work of miracle she got him to submit too, but he let it slide. If she wanted to play some games he was going to let her.

“Mhh, yeah, keep doing that,” he encouraged instead, throwing his head back and moaning at the gentle touches of her fingers on his scalp and neck. It did feel good, but if she believed that it was what it took him to get on his knees… well, she was wrong. Still, playing into a fantasy, he started faking more moans, having to hold back his grin when her lips curled into a smirk of victory that faded as soon as he kissed her. One of Johnny’s strong hands wrapped behind her neck, pulling her closer, while the other pushed against the small of her back, securing her in a hold that swiftly gave him the chance of turning her around under him.

“Johnny,” she cried out, huffing in disappointment, “that’s not fair.”

Johnny chuckled, kissing her again hungrily. “Honey, nothing is fair when you’re the first one playing dishonest games.”

That was one of the many failed attempts. Deep down Jade knew Johnny wasn’t going to fall to his knees, she couldn’t bend him like she did with Jaehyun, probably she could win some minutes of submissiveness from Yuta, but nothing from her oldest boyfriend. And at this point she felt it wasn’t even about domming him, she just wanted to see how far she could push him before he snapped.

“I’m exhausted,” Johnny huffed, coming out of the shower already changed into his nightwear, and slumping in her bed, between the pillows — too many pillows — that were placed on the crown.

“I didn’t even hear you came home,” she said, turning around from her desk position, and shutting off her computer after making sure she had saved the last project she was working on, some boring ass holiday visit card for a company she could barely remember what treated.

Johnny hummed, hair still damp sticking to his forehead, ankles crossed on top of each other and neck in perfect view as he sat on the mattress with his head rolled against the wall.

Jade gulped, that was the perfect occasion — and also the perfect view, cause, fuck, he was so hot. He was tired, he needed to unwind, it was the right moment when maybe she could’ve got what she wanted. So she walked toward him slowly, climbing on the bed and positioning herself on his lap, fingers immediately reaching behind his neck to rub circles.

Johnny’s lips parted and she couldn’t hold in the smirk. Maybe Johnny didn’t like to submit but he loved when she did that, it wasn’t so surprising that Taeyong and Jaehyun could submit so easily with that.

“Bad day at work?”

Johnny hummed, he could feel her voice had dropped, typical of when she tried to get a reaction. “Shooting Christmas family photos of famous people it’s even worse than the normal ones.”

She chuckled, still caressing him, the sharp nails grazing against his skin so nicely she could feel him shiver with every brush. “Are we considered a normal one?”

Johnny giggled, cracking an eye open to look at her. “We are anything but normal.”

“Good, I like it,” she replied, leaning in to start leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw.

“Jade,” Johnny mumbled, placing his hands on her hips firmly.

“Shh,” she whispered, hot breath hitting his earlobe before she nibbled on it, making him hiss, “let me take care of you, please. You’re so stressed, daddy.” So apparently that was the new plan, making him believe he was in control, while he absolutely wasn’t. It would’ve worked if only they weren’t playing the exact same game against each other, both unaware of who was going to win.

Johnny only smirked, letting her do her thing, watching her hands trail on his chest, pretty fingers moving slowly to unhook the buttons of his shirt before they ran on his skin, flicking the nipples, eliciting a broken moan from him. “Are you laughing?” He scoffed, tilting his head to stare at the smile on her face.

“No,” she denied, but her thumb grazed his nipple again. “Does it feel good, daddy?”

Johnny groaned, head thrown back as she kept teasing that sweet spot, of course, it did, but he was going insane over the way she was trying to play him like a violin. That wasn’t her submissive voice, no amount of slurred-out ‘daddy’ could make that her broken, pliant, breathy submissive voice. That was the lusty voice, soothing and venomous, deep and with a teasing edge always lingering in the back of every word. It was quite entertaining though that she believe he didn’t know her so deeply, that he couldn’t tell the games she was playing; all her cards were uncovered and he was just staring, ready to make his winning move.

So he still let her; no easy game is too funny. He wanted to watch her burn in the same fire she was lighting up.

“Feeling better?” Jade asked, moving one hand up on his face while the other moved down, past the elastic band of his pants.

“A bit,” he replied, biting his lip when her cold hand wrapped around his half-hard cock.

She smirked at his reaction before she rolled the tip between her thumb and palm, provoking a groan.

“Where are you going?” When she jumped off the bed he stared at her running to the closet, left unsatisfied and turned on. “Jade?” He asked when she didn’t answer, trying to cut out the stern tone.

“I’m taking care of you,” she replied, hands hidden behind her back before she climbed on top of him and kissed him immediately, not leaving him time to pry about what was going on. Johnny groaned into the kiss when he felt cold liquid come in contact with his tip, legs stiffing and hands pushing her away.

“What are you doing?”

She huffed, pulling down his clothes to don’t stain them and picking back where she stopped. “I told you, taking care of you.”

“This doesn — uhm,” he moaned when her lips crashed on his again, forcing his head back against the headboard, hand moving in quick motions with purposeful wrists twists that were pushing him closer and closer to the edge. “You sound so pretty, daddy,” she mumbled barely pulling away from his lips before her teeth grabbed his lower lip and pulled roughly.

“Jade,” he groaned, but his voice was followed by a whiny sound that made her shiver in anticipation. That was until her name rolled out of his lips another time, deeper and sterner when her fingers slipped something around his cock. “Fuck,” Johnny cursed when vibrations started buzzing around his hard girth, head reclining before he could even look down between his legs and see the black cock ring she put on him.

Jade licked her lips while looking attentively at him, eyes shut, nostrils flaring and lower lip trapped in his teeth. The power she was feeling flowing in her vein had no equal.

“Since when do we — fuck — do we have a cock ring?” He breathed out, lifting his head to look at her, voice shaking when her hand wrapped around him and added to the stimulation.

She shrugged, grinning evilly, and shaking her head. “Does it matter?”

“Yes because — fuck — turn it off,” he grunted, but his body was betraying him, hips bucking up, meeting her hand in desperate humps trying to come.

“Please, don’t tell me it feels bad. Don’t you want me to take care of you, daddy?” She batted her eyelashes, forcing a pout on her lips. “Your cock looks so pretty like this, you know?”

Johnny rasped, the back of his head hitting the hard surface behind him once again. He stared at her through lidded eyes, lips parting to let out unusually higher whispers while his hips ground up following the rhythm of her hand.

The triumphant smile on her face was hiding while her head was lowered, concentrating her movements on his dripping tip before an idea crossed her mind. She let go of his throbbing dick and grabbed the lube bottle, pouring a good amount on her fingers before slipping it down on his rim.

“Don’t,” Johnny warned, head snapping up.

“I’m not doing anything,” she defended, looking at him with innocent eyes. “I’m just rubbing against it, won’t push in, daddy.”

“Stop calling me that,” he groaned, legs parting unconsciously to leave her more space.

She chuckled, “thought that was how I’m supposed to call you?”

Johnny glared at her, words choking in his throat when she started fondling his balls, dripping more lube. “You’re making a mess.”

“We can sleep in your bed,” she giggled before her hand quickened and she raised the vibrations on it.

“I’m close,” he grunted, chest heaving, legs twitching as the orgasm build up inside him until everything stopped. “Come back here,” he ordered, eyebrows knitted together, staring at her, sitting a bit further now, watching his cock throb pathetically.

“You don’t make the rules tonight, daddy,” she replied with a smirk on her face.

Johnny sighed deeply, hand running in his hair to brush them back. “You don’t want to lose my patience — fuck,” he screamed when she turned on the vibrations again at the maximum. “Come here,” he ordered, pushing down his throat the embarrassingly higher moans she was forcing out of him.

“Don’t you want to come, daddy? You need to release the stress, don’t you?” In her voice there was a mocking tone while her hands grabbed the hem of his pants and pulled them down completely, leaving him bare on his lower half and spreading his legs apart.

“Jade, I swear to God —”

“What? That you will come untouched? Just like that thanks to a little toy?”

“You’re — fuck — you’re playing with fire, babe.”

She laughed, sitting on her knees between his legs and kissing him, pushing his hair back with a harsh tug. “Your moans are so pretty, baby boy.”

Johnny laughed, shaking his head, and lifting her up, turning her over with a swift movement.

“Enough is enough,” he groaned, swiftly reaching her pants to pull them down along with the panties and pushing into her before his orgasm could hit in such a desperate way. “You’re so fucking wet, Jesus, it really turns you on thinking you have control, doesn’t it?”

“I have control,” she breathed out, glaring at him, and trying not to lose her composure as soon as he picked up a rhythm.

“You don’t look in control anymore,” he teased, leaving a light slap on the side of her thigh before he let his head fall in the crook of her neck when he reached his high, emptying inside of her with low thrusts before he pulled out.

She pushed him to the side as soon as he distracted himself to take off the cock ring. Trapping him under her, legs hooking at his sides.

“Honey, still playing a game you know you can’t win?” He asked, voice calm and collected, and she shivered; here he was back again, the same Johnny she stood no chance with. She never had one, really, and she knew it, but it was so unfair that he made her believe she could.

She yelped when he grabbed her and stood up from the bed, jumping off it and making her kneel.

“Wanted to take care of me, didn’t you? Tried to play with my ass so badly.”

Her brows furrowed, trying to understand where this was going.

“Come here.” One of his legs raised and his foot planted on the mattress, leaving enough space for her to position right under him. “Play with my ass.”

Her eyes glinted. “Can I?”

He chuckled, “I’m ordering you to.”

“You can’t order me.”

“No? Oh, want me to ask you politely?” He cooed, lips turning in a pout. “Want me to beg? Please, mommy, please, suck my cock and eat my ass.”

She glared at him, taking a deep breath because of course he was repaying her with the same coin. But she still moved closer to him, wrapping a hand around his cock before she licked a stripe on her ass, the taste of the lube meeting her tongue as she started licking and sucking, swift yet calculated movements of her tongue while her hands wrapped around his thighs and ass, kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, babe,” Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and wrapping a hand around his cock to rub it slowly. “You’re so good with your tongue, you practice so much with Yong, don’t you?”

“Shut up,” she growled against his skin but Johnny didn’t like it. Never talk back to Johnny in those moments. When he tugged her hair, she cursed under her breath, looking up at him as he forced her head to recline.

“Shut up?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, licking her lips, but he knew that wasn’t a genuine apology.

“Babe,” he cocked his head, “do I have to sit on your face?”

Jade licked her lips, eyes flaring to his, as if that was a punishment, but it wasn’t what she wanted that night, so she shook her head, and buried her face between his cheeks again. This time one of her hands moved up to fondle his balls and cock, massaging each of them in alternating movements, slowly eliciting low moans from him.

Johnny would’ve let her keep going, maybe even fucked her face until she cried, but he didn’t want to come like that, so deciding she had learned her lesson, he pulled away when he felt too close.

“Good girl,” he praised, tugging her hair, and ordering her to stand up without leaving the hold on her before he kissed her roughly, spit mixing and dripping down their chins. He dropped her on the bed and quirked a brow when she sat up.

“Lay down,” he ordered, reaching her face to face.

Jade shook her head stubbornly. “You lay down.”

Johnny chuckled, “what are we, honey? Kindergarten kids?”

“I want to ride you,” she said, batting her lashes, and doing pouty lips next to his face, brushing them against his. Here she was, once again trying to flip the tables. But Johnny liked this game of push and pull, especially since he knew he was going to win. So he let her believe she had a possibility another time.

He laid against the sheets, head resting on the pillow, staring at her moving on top of him, legs at his sides and hands on his chest, running along the skin. He moaned when she flicked his nipples, rubbing the buds.

“You’re so sensitive there, daddy. Why I’ve never noticed before?”

“Because usually, you behave.”

“I am behaving,” she replied.

“Fuck, still not convinced aren’t you?” He huffed when she tried to still his hands above his head and started grinding against him while one hand wrapped around his neck. “I really have to put you back in your place, don’t I?”

“I am perfectly where I have to be — fuck,” she screamed when he turned her over. Johnny wasn’t harsh, he had no need to be, he was big and strong enough to turn her around however he wanted and she knew it too, damn if she did. It was just so easy for him to move her and place her in any position he liked more with no need to tug roughly or force her down, she stood no chance to retort or push him away unless he let her believe she could.

“Now you are exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Her jaw tightened when his cock stretched her out, thick and long filling her to the brim every damn time, his hands moving to block her legs and keep her still, this time not giving her any possibility of even thinking of a way to turn the situation around. Johnny had her right where he needed her to be, under him, shaking and writhing just for a few seconds before she gave up to pleasure and came back to her senses, letting him pound into her with deep thrusts.

“Always pushing me to my fucking limits ’cause you want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?”

Jade shook her head, biting her lips to muffle the moans, she didn’t want to give up so easily, no matter that the last thing for her to do was to surrender, it was a matter of pride.

Johnny let out a sharp mocking laugh, shaking his head before he hissed when she clenched tightly around him. “No you didn’t, not this time,” he groaned, throwing his head back when her hips rolled against him. “You truly believed you could have control over me. Get two boyfriends on their knees and you think you own the world, don’t you?”

She glared at him, at least tried to, it was hard to fake dominance when he was fucking her brain shut.

“No, it’s fine, babe. You are a dreamer, aren’t you? But in the end, you will always be my dumb baby girl that never knows when to stop, aren’t you?”

“I’m good,” she whined, cursing herself because it was supposed to come out of her mouth like a strong affirmation. The laugh that rumbled in Johnny’s chest made shivers run down her spine, and so did the gaze he was giving her.

“Are you sure?” His deep voice reached just as far inside her body, twisting her insides, and making her whimper pathetically, but she kept pushing his buttons and nodded. As an answer, he only chuckled, picking back the rhythm, and holding her harder. “Of course, this is just a game to you, isn’t it? You’re bored, and you find new ways to have fun. But I also know my ways to have fun.”

Her breath faltered when he pulled out and flipped her over, pushing her body on the mattress, only her ass up, and pushed into her again. No more words came out of his mouth other than deep moans and groans, fingers squeezing the skin of her hips, and thighs slapping loudly against her.

Jade could only curse under her breath, feeling her heart pound fast in her chest and her orgasm build up swiftly. She hated how good Johnny was, and especially how much he knew her. Fingers leaving her waist to reach her clit and her nipple, stimulating her more.

“N-no,” she cried out, knowing it would’ve been just a matter of seconds before coming if only he kept going.

“No? You can make daddy feel good but daddy can’t make you feel good?” He cooed, lower lip pouting out, and even if she couldn’t see it, she could see his face inked behind her eyelids.

An angry groan rolled out of her mouth, nails digging into the sheets and ass pushing up, making him smirk.

“Oh, let me guess,” he whispered, “this is not how you want to come, right?”

She nodded, head moving up and down swiftly.

“Wanted to be the one fucking me. Wanted to see me beg for release, wanted me to whimper and moan like the pathetic mess that you are.”

“I’m — I’m not a pathetic mess,” she cried out just proving his teasings were right.

“I can see you’re trying to fight it, to hold the pleasure in,” he hummed. “If you keep biting your lips you will probably bleed.”

“Please.”

Johnny scoffed, ignoring her, he wasn’t going to give her power, not like that. The rules were strict, and she knew them. Nothing of that kind was going to happen with him. So, his fingers started moving faster on her clit and her nipple, making her move under him, trying to squirm away from the hold.

“You’re so fucking proud it will get you killed one day,” he huffed.

“I won’t come,” she retorted, knowing her body was going to betray her soon.

“Oh, trust me you will,” he replied with a smirk on his lips. “I know you will. I’ll make sure of it.”

And in a matter of a few seconds, her body betrayed her, cunt spasming around his cock while her ass pressed up against him, giving up holding in the sounds of pleasure he was forcing out of her with his deep strokes and his skilled fingers.

“What did I — fuck — say?” Johnny groaned against her neck, gritting his teeth as her walls kept clenching around him and he forced himself to hold it in, wanting to keep fucking her, even if that meant edging himself too. “You can’t resist this cock, babe. Not mine, never.”

Jade let out a sound mixed with a huff and a whimper, not knowing anymore what was running in her brain. Probably nothing was running through her mind anymore, nothing but the pleasure that was slipping into her body deeper with every thrust and flick on her sensitive spots. Coherence slowly dimming down against her will. She wanted to at least have mental control, to try to play some cards against him, but it was all useless, Johnny had all the control and she was just a puppet on a string.

“Oh, poor baby, look at you,” he mocked in a condescending cooing tone, “thought you could top me? Dominate me? You are such a silly girl, my dumb girl, aren’t you?”

She groaned, pride hurt, and brain filled with static noises by now, his slams were so good she couldn’t complain or retort not even if she wanted to.

“That’s alright, angel, you look so pretty trying to fight me and overpower me, you know?” He teased. “Bet you would’ve even tried to pull out the strap-on, wouldn’t you?”

She shook her head sincerely, that was a step too far-headed.

“No?” He cooed. “But you love to use it so much, don’t you? It makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it?”

She hummed, crying out broken moans. “I — I just like — uhm — fucking you.” It wasn’t a total lie, she liked both things and the feeling was different for all of them.

“Yeah, you do, and you’re so good at that, aren’t you? Learned from me? Do you fuck Yong like I fuck you?”

Her head rolled forward, slumping in the mass of pillows around her, moving from side to side not even knowing if she was agreeing or not, she couldn’t remember what sex with the others felt like right at the moment, especially when she was the one giving. Johnny was all over her, and he was the only one filling her thoughts.

“Maybe I could watch one day, just the two of you, putting you under a test, and if you fuck him well enough, who knows, I might let you do the same with me.”

Her head snapped up, her heart swelling just imagining it, and a tender smile broke on Johnny’s face, no, that wouldn’t have happened. He knew she was good, he had seen them fuck countless times, and he wasn’t going to be on the receiving end, not if she wanted to dominate him, at least.

“Want that, angel? Already imagining it?” He teased with a playful grin on his face, watching as her lips parted to let out feeble affirmative answers and her eyes were squeezed shut. His nails grazed her skin, pushing into it, leaving marks behind, his head thrown back as it was becoming harder and harder to hold the orgasm back. The deep mocking laugh that rumbled in his chest when she nodded made her shiver. “What a shame it won’t happen.” Johnny brushed her hair back, thumb circling her burning cheeks. “Don’t you see how pretty you look right at your place, right — fuck — underneath me?”

Babbling came out of her mouth, stomach tightening once again, pussy clenching hard around him.

“Yeah, you agree,” Johnny moaned, jaw tense and head thrown back, a droplet of sweat rolling down his forehead, “your body agrees. You know I make you feel good angel, so why even try to fight it?”

“Please,” she moaned, eyes cracking open to glimpse at him.

“Please, what? Can try to overpower me but can’t even beg politely? Oh, poor you, am I fucking you too well?” He teased with a mockingly sweet voice that made her brain spin faster.

“Wan — want your cum, please, daddy.”

Johnny chuckled, slipping a hand under her neck and pushing her closer to him. “You can do better than that,” he groaned, hips slamming faster against her, hitting deep and nice.

“Please, daddy, come — come with me, fill me up, please. Need to be — fuck — need to be filled by you. Want your cum.”

“That’s my girl, that’s my good fucking girl,” he moaned. A few more thrusts’ sounds resonated in the room before they came to a stop, the pleasure overwhelming them both in a tangle of skin brushing together and cum leaking out with lewd sounds. Johnny gently placed her down again, pulling out against his will to don’t slump on top of her, he was too tired to keep his body up, and then rolled to the side, chest lifting up and down in swift motions.

Jade snuggled closer, pressing her face against his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Are you okay, brat?” Johnny joked, rubbing his fingers against her nape.

“You are a brat.”

He chuckled before yawning and seeing how late it got. “Let’s go take a quick bath and then let’s sleep, come on. I’ll carry you; I know your legs can’t even keep you up.”

“You were really rude before,” Jade pouted, moving the foam on his chest, fighting back a smile when Johnny laughed and threw his head back. “You are being rude.”

“Babe,” Johnny said, caressing her cheek, marking it with the white foam, “you knew it was a game you were never going to win.”

“But why not?”

“Cause I like having control and I want to take care of you,” he explained.

She pouted again, crossing her arms on her chest. “You always do this. It’s a problem because you never let us take care of you, you always need to have control —”

“Excuse me?” He stopped her, quirking a brow. “When you ask someone to do something for you and they do it, you go check as soon as they’re done and most of the time you redo it yourself, I wouldn’t talk about wanting control.”

Jade huffed, head rolling back. “But it’s different. Is it because you always have to be tough?”

“I can be vulnerable even while being dominant, I think I proved that to you enough,” he said, caressing her hips. “I’ll let you peg me, I mean, it’s not the first thing I take up in my ass and I trust you with a cock more than I trust the other three,” he joked making her laugh, “but that’s not what you want. Just like it wasn’t what you wanted with Jae.”

She hummed. “Not even if I ease you into that?”

“You ease into things? The same way you eased Jaehyun into this?”

“Hey, he liked it!”

“I know he did, just like I know I wouldn’t last. We would do this push and pull every time. Isn’t Taeyong enough? Now you even have Jay occasionally.”

“They are, of course, they are. I don’t want to dominate you because I want control… I mean, yes, a bit, but I still think you always carry too much weight around, always, even when it comes to sex. I only want you to loosen up.”

Johnny chuckled. “We could find a middle ground somewhere, I don’t know what it is, but I’ll try to think about it, okay? Can’t promise you anything.”

“I don’t want to force you, though.”

“I know. We had fun, I let you keep going because I was enjoying that,” he reassured, kissing her lips in a soft peck. “Well, you know what, I actually loved this, so why not? I don’t want you to act like this every time but we might do this power play thing again, and who knows, maybe one day I’ll be too exhausted to overpower you.”

She giggled, leaning closer, resting her forehead on his. “I liked that too, to be honest… even if I knew deep down I had no chance, it was fun,” she confessed. It wasn’t what she had in mind, but it turned out to be something exciting. Maybe that was the fun with him, the tension.

“Also, why do you act as if you hate the way I spoil you and treat you like a princess?” He said out of the blue.

“I never said that,” she defended. “I want to spoil you too; two things can coexist.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, giggling when she smacked his arm. “Fine, fine, you’re right, I guess we’ll come up with something to let you spoil me. Now, let me take on my role of the best boyfriend in the world,” he stopped, pretending to be overhearing, “good, nobody that screams they’re better,” he joked, and Jade laughed.

“You’re so stupid,” she chuckled. “And Taeyong would disagree.”

“All of them would, the only difference is,” he sighed, lifting her out of the water and placing her on the carpet, “Yuta and Jaehyun are too unbothered to start a fight.”

Jade nodded, agreeing before watching in silence as Johnny wrapped a towel around them.

“How does a burrito walk to the bed?”

“Let’s find out,” he said before they started walking to the bed, dangling side to side until they slumped on it with a loud laugh

When Johnny rolled away, she followed with her gaze as he grabbed new underwear for them both and put his on before he reached her again, opening the towel and kneeling to slide the clean panties on her legs.

“Come here, let me take care of you,” Johnny said, grabbing an ankle.

“I can do this myself,” she replied, giggling, secretly loving being pampered that much, hiding it with a frown on her face.

“I don’t care about your pouts, angel. You’re not in control tonight.”

I hope you liked it, if you did let me know with comments, reblogs or even asks!

You can add yourself to the taglist if you want to, please specify what you want to be tagged in and make sure you’re writing your username correctly.

#nct fanfiction #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #suh johnny smut #johnny scenarios #johnny fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct smut #smutmas #all's well that ends well to end up with you

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witch-hazels-musings · 2 years

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Hi this is bout to be so weird cuz it’s my first time doing this can I do this in anonymous phoned not thats alright as well you can ignore it then :) no hard feelings butt can I have a reading of fate with kazuha pls

Thank you (and it’s very much ok if you choose not to answer this) anddd have a good day / night

Wheel of Fortune (new beginnings), Lovers (true love), Emperor (rev) (misunderstandings) :: kazuha x gn reader | Destined Fate

warnings: enemies to lovers, chasing, pinned to ground (reader), kissing (consensual)

“Stop right there!” You shouted through the turbulent wind. It had picked up so suddenly but you knew why without question. There was only one vision user who could manipulate the wind as easy as the leaf falls from the tree.

Your legs had grown heavier in the chase but you couldn’t stop. Not until you captured what continuously eluded you. So, as you were trained to do, you squinted against the intensity of the sun and pushed further, faster, harder until your bounty came into sight.

“KAEDEHARA KAZUHA!” The sound of your voice echoed across the cliff side, it spilled into the sea as your feet kicked up the sand beneath you. The samurai glanced your way, a devilish grin on his face. The sight of it made your heart pound, made your throat tighten, your chest constrict. He leapt over a pile of driftwood and you watched him float back down with ease. He was by far the most graceful person you’d ever met but instead of using his skills for a valuable purpose, he was on the opposite side. A side that ignored your sworn loyalty, a side against you.

Suddenly, a gust of wind came hurtling toward you, slowing you down. You dropped to your knee and shielded your face with your arms. Pellets of stand stung your skin but you paid them no mind because as soon as the onslaught dissipated you were dashing forward with more determination than before.

A flash or red caught your attention. It slipped behind an abandoned fishing shack just by the waters edge. Obviously the little stunt Kazuha pulled was to give him enough time to disappear from your sight but you were far to skilled to be bested by something as trivial as sand. You came to a steady jog, then a quick step until you pulled out your weapon and began to investigate. It was quiet, save for the push and pull of the waves and the irregular call of the birds flying above you. Today you would win, today you’d capture the elusive wind.

Where are you ... You wondered as you peered around the edge of the shack, as you looked in the windows only to find sea creatures capable of making their way on land crawl around inside. Squinting, you turned to look out across the empty beach. There must be tracks somewhere, but knowing Kazuha he erased those with a wave of his hand.

With a heavy huff, you jumped off the side of the deck, your feet sinking into the ground below. In the shade you found reprieve but you couldn’t rest until you finished your ---

Wind, sand, weight hit you all at once until you found yourself laying on the mixing warm and cold sand and your eyes came into contact with the man you were trying to find.

“Hello there.” Kazuha’s voice spilled around you like a sweet perfume. It wrapped you up, trapped you, and kept you hostage. It didn’t help that his hands had found your wrists and were holding them steady, or that his weight kept you beneath him exactly as he planned. You fell for his trap, as you had many many times before.

“Kazuha --” You glared at him, shifted under him but he simply laughed at your pitiful attempts.

“As it seems, I have bested you yet again, yoriki.” The title slipped from his lips and made you grimace. It was common for citizens to refer to you that way, but when he used it, it was like a poison. A reminder of the sides the two of you stood on.

“You played dirty.”

“How is that?”

“I had you earlier but you weren’t honorable in my win. So this doesn’t count.”

“Enlighten me, how was I so dishonorable?” Kazuha leaned down and you felt the heat from the sun spill over your chest. His face inching closer and closer to your own while your heart began to beat so wildly you thought it would pound straight through your ribcage.

“You ...”

“I ...” You could practically feel his breath on your lips with how close he’d become. This was exactly like before and it wasn’t fair how easily he could manipulate you with just this much.

“... cheating ...”

“Is that what you call it?” Kazuha whispered before he pressed his lips to yours. The feeling sent a shockwave through you and although you struggled against him it was only so you could wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. To feel even more attached to the man who had captured your heart.

When he finally pulled away you were floating like driftwood on the sea and with every additional, tender, affection he pressed to your face, you moved further away from solid ground.

“What if someone sees?” You hummed as he kissed your jaw. His hand sliding down your arm while yours finally reached his chest.

“Why do you think I had you chase me all the way out here?”

“I thought you were finally showing me your true colors.”

“For you, I’d paint my shade any that would compliment your own.”

Your fingers pulled as his robes, your heels dug further into the sand and you felt the tethers of your vow to the shogun loosen. “Are you always so poetic?”

“To express how one feels through prose, is there no other way to share what the heart already knows?”

“I hate you.”

“Tell me the ways.” He mused as his arms slipped into the sand and his lips came into contact with yours for the hundredth time.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear everything you’d worked for, all that you knew, the path you thought was chosen for you, was undoubtedly being changed at the behest of Kaedehara Kazuha and a twist of destined fate.

Fate Made Event (May8-31) | Anthology

#hazelsevents #fate made event #may 8th - may 31st #kazuha #kazuha genshin impact #kazuha x reader #genshin impact X reader #genshin impact musings #genshin impact fiction

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ms0milk · 1 year

Text

i found this fic i wrote in 2014 (when i was 14) and i'm obsessed,, it's honestly not bad at all lmao pls enjoy my baby-kill la kill-throwback

(i literally just copypaste from my old email account so everything below this line is an untouched primary document 🤭)

Title: Dating for Dummies

Pairing: Gamagoori/Mako

Rating: T (<- what does this mean? -2022 pom)

Disclaimer: not beta’d and Gama is best dork

(based off of ^this^ end credit cap -2022 pom)

Gamagoori clutched the pink bouquet with shaking hands and mutely followed the other Devas through the streets. He hoped he didn’t vomit. Or faint. He wasn’t sure which was more likely; his entire body seemed to be fighting a war with itself. A war of nerves.

“We should have brought an extra change of clothes,” Nonon mused. “But Froggy had to wear a suit. Are you proposing or confessing?”

He stared at the bright pink flowers and chose to ignore her teasing. The snake would always lead with its fangs, after all. Even in the case of helping someone else. She was helping, and that was what mattered.

“They’ve stopped again,” Inumuta informed them, looking at his tablet. The tracking device in Satsuki’s purse allowed them to easily follow the trio.

Gamagoori somehow managed to look up from the flowers to focus on the little blinking light on the tablet screen. He swallowed. They were only a few blocks away now which indicated it was almost time. His eyes swung back to the flowers and he clenched them tighter. He couldn’t remember a time where he was more nervous. Standing up to the bullies, fighting Satsuki, waging war against the life fibers…no prior event had caused his insides to twist in such a way. He tried to calm himself by taking slow, even breaths, but his heart rate remained stubbornly elevated and he was still perspiring heavily.

Nonon, always one to sense any amount of weakness of will, stood before him with a scrutinizing look. “I gave up going shopping for you,” she informed him darkly. “You better not back out.”

Gamagoori nodded. “I know.”

He understood this was a matter of do or die. Soon it would be over with and he could relax again. Gamagoori tried to look forward to the future but found it was impossible to predict. If she wasn’t interested what would he feel? What would he do? The tiny, pink flowers had no answer for him, so instead he tried to work on what he wanted to say. Yes, no point in thinking that far ahead. For now he needed to practice what he would say to win Mako’s heart.

Gamagoori closed his eyes. Now, he thought. How should I put it?

He remained still, hunched against the wall as he meditated…until all at once his eyes bugged out. He’d been so worried about everything else he hadn’t even considered what to say. His mind was a complete blank. He couldn’t string any sort of meaningful love declarations, no poetic recitations, and certainly no sweet-nothings. At the moment, he could barely remember his own name.

Gamagoori’s breathing rate began to increase again as his panic rose. How could he have forgotten to come up with a good line? Something. Anything. He looked dumbly down at the flowers, which were starting to look both blurry and patronizing. A shocking feat for mere flowers.

“Here they come,” Inumuta warned.

He jumped to his feet without knowing why. They were coming and Gamagoori had nothing to say. He had flowers and nothing else. Just himself; a large, mute man who couldn’t even properly speak to the girl he liked. But he was going to try. No matter what, he was going to try.

Inumuta adjusted his glasses and looked up at him. “I took the liberty of placing note cards in your jacket pocket. In case you find yourself…without words.”

Gamagoori look down, surprised. “Y-yes. Alright.”

“You don’t need note cards,” Uzu voiced. “Just speak from the heart.”

He nodded again. “From the heart…” All he could truly muster was parroted responses. At a later point he would communicate his gratitude towards them for their help. For now it was all he could do to stay standing.

“There they are,” Nonon voiced, excited. “It’s time!” She waved a hand at him and said, “Good luck, Froggy.” Soon she was dashing out to intercept the girls, followed shortly by Inumuta and Uzu. They gave him a passing thumbs-up, and he was left alone with his flowers.

This is it.

He would not hide anymore. It was time for him to truly, truly go Nudist. With his heart, at least.

Gamagoori moved out from the cover the building provided, looking across the street where the group had met up. Nonon was directing Mako to a food stand down the way, and the girl had run off eagerly, her large bag of goods bouncing behind her. He headed in the same direction, planning to intercept her. His expression was one of determination with a tinge of nausea. Now that he was finally acting, his body at least seemed to be behaving correctly. Steely-gray eyes remained fixed on his target as he closed the distance between them.

Suddenly, a crowd of people spilled out of a bus, clogging the path with pedestrians. At the same time some moving-men began moving large furniture right in his path. It was as if the world had all at once conspired against him in the most non-humorous way possible. Briefly he took his eyes off of Mako as he picked his way past people and furniture, and when he looked back up he couldn’t see her amongst the crowd. Gamagoori stopped, eyes scanning for the engorged bag that Mako had been carrying. Even though he was larger than everyone, he didn’t immediately spot her.

“Mankanshoku…” he muttered, moving forward again. He needed to remain calm. She couldn’t have gotten far, and he knew where the food stand was located. The busy sidewalk was only a minor annoyance. He would find her.

When Gamagoori reached the stand, his heart sank. She wasn’t there, and he hadn’t seen her along the way. He looked at the store fronts, wondering if she made a side-stop in any of the buildings nearby. If he had to, he’d check them all. With another glance around the area he spotted a bulbous round bag. There she was.

He pushed through the people and called, “Mankanshoku!” Half-stumbling, he made it to the curb, eyes catching the sight of a large round bag…being thrown into the back of a garbage truck. Gamagoori’s shoulders slumped. It hadn’t been her at all. His panic was beginning to rise now. He didn’t know if he could bear facing Satsuki knowing that he had managed to lose Mako in the crowds. The hand that clutched the pink bouquet hung loosely at his side.

What should he do now?

“Oh! Is that you, Gamagoori-senpai?”

Gamagoori turned at the sound, wide-eyes falling on the very girl he had lost. “M-Mankanshoku…”

Mako was looking at him with a tilted head. “Wow you look all dressed up today,” she said. Then she jumped in surprise, pointing at the flowers. “F-flowers!? Oh gosh t-this…I know what this is!”

His brows snapped together. “Y-you…you do?” Inwardly he sighed in relief. Leave it to Mako to understand, yet again, what he was truly feeling. He should have never worried.

“Yes!” she confirmed. Her hands snapped up above her head and for a moment she appeared cloaked in a faint light (<- if you don't watch the show you don't understand what a hysterical addition to the fic this is -2022 pom). “The suit, the flowers, and all of the other things up until now. The entire atmosphere and even the Confession Moon! It was all leading up to the same thing.”

(it's genuinely alarming how accurate i got this characterization, pls god watch the show and read this again -2022 pom)

He tried to follow, but she was moving around very enthusiastically and making gestures that he couldn’t decipher. “Ah, y-yes. That’s what I-”

Mako held her hand up suddenly. “You don’t have to explain yourself! I understand.”

A warm, bubbly feeling spread through his chest at her words. His cheeks were red, but he looked at her with a tender expression. “Mankanshoku…”

She smiled, bright and cheery. He had feared for no reason. This person would not harm him, surely. She was kind and honest and brave. Why had he been afraid?

“We’re friends, senpai, so I’m going to help you! I’ll help make sure your confession goes perfectly!”

He blinked down at her with a dreamy expression before his expectations completely shattered. Gamagoori didn’t attempt to mask his horror as he stuttered, “N-no, M-Mankanshoku, you d-don’t-”

Mako made a sound of disappointment as she nimbly snagged the bouquet from his hand. “Aww, senpai, something happened to your flowers.” She waved the broken and droopy bouquet in front of him before tossing it over her shoulder. “If you’re going to confess you should buy some better flowers first. I’ll help you pick some out!”

Before he could muster a response, she took hold of his finger and dragged him along through the crowd. Those in their path wisely moved out of the way; Mako was too busy detailing all the reasons why he couldn’t possibly make a confession without nice flowers to notice anyone else. She pulled him to an outdoor market full of stands selling various wares.

“Mankanshoku, I have to-”

“Flowers!” she broke in, pointing. She tugged him forward again, ending up in front of a colorful flower stand. “Ooo! They’re all so bright and pretty!”

“Thank you,” the stand’s owner replied, her wrinkly face stretching in a smile.

“Hmm, what do you think would work best, senpai?” Mako asked, scrutinizing over the selection. “You probably have to think of their meaning.”

She grabbed a bouquet of yellow daisies and held it aloft saying, “These are saying ‘you are the sun in my sky’.” Then she exchanged those for some pink carnations. “And this is ‘my feelings are like a gentle blush’.” Her next pick became red roses. “These say ‘my blood is raging with passion for you’.” Mako’s face became serious as she advised, “These are only for the most serious intentions, senpai. Are you ready for that? You know. That.” He watched as Mako made a strange gesture which involved her pinky.

No, he certainly didn’t know that. He was starting to sweat more again at the very suggestion of…whatever that was. “Uh…” he uttered lamely, looking between the flowers and her intent expression. “What do you suggest, Mankanshoku? Surely you can advise me well.”

Mako blinked and then smiled wide. “I won’t let you down!” Gamagoori thought he could bask in such a smile endlessly. It warmed him to his core and chased away any apprehension that remained. He wanted to receive that smile from her again and again.

“I think this one!” Mako announced finally, choosing a multicolor bouquet. It was rather large but packed with a diverse number of flowers of different colors.

“Why this one?” he asked, honestly curious.

Mako stood triumphantly, hands on her hips as she explained, “Because it says ‘I want everything’! Gamagoori-senpai isn’t the type to hold back his emotions.” Mako punched the air in front of her. “You let them all out.”

Gamagoori quickly attempted to cover his blush. “That…that is a good answer, Mankanshoku.” He turned to pay the old woman while feeling light-headed. While Mako was not the most observant or attentive about certain things, in other ways she understood a lot more than one would expect. It was what made her so incomprehensible. That was simply her.

After he had paid he turned back to her and asked, “What else can I do, Mankanshoku?”

Mako took on a thoughtful expression. “It couldn’t hurt to give her some cute gifts! Girls like cute gifts.”

He nodded and picked up her large bag to carry it for her. “Alright.” Bashfully, he held out his hand and said, “Take my hand, Mankanshoku. So I don’t lose you.”

She placed her hand in his without hesitation and led the way. Gamagoori held her small hand gently as he allowed her to pull him to various stands. He felt content in a way he had never felt before. Never would he have expected such simple acts to feel so meaningful.

Whatever Mako suggested he was willing to accept. She looked overjoyed that she was being helpful to him. Chocolates, stuffed animals, matching cellphone charms. Mako pointed out things and advised him on why they would be perfect. She truly wanted to see him succeed and had no inkling that it was entirely about her in the first place.

Finally, when she was satisfied he had enough gifts and his arms were loaded with all the things she suggested he buy, Mako decided they should head back so Gamagoori could have his ‘shining moment’. The small girl bounced excitedly in front of him as she led the way, commenting on how she didn’t think anyone could say no to him. He smiled faintly at the encouragement before he looked ahead of them. The group was in sight now.

“Mankanshoku,” he voiced, stopping. “I have to tell you the truth.”

Mako stopped moving and turned to watch as he knelt, shifting all of the items and placing them before her. This time he was more careful with the flowers which he held out in the space between them.

For a moment, Mako simply stared. But then she clapped her hands together and said, “Oh yeah! Maybe you should practice what you want to say.” Mako ruffled her fingers through her hair and posed dramatically. “I’m ready. Steal my heart, if you can.”

Gamagoori swallowed. She had truly taken on a daunting form, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. “Mankanshoku!” he said loudly, his face steely determination. “I like you! Please accept my invitation to go on a date! The time and place is of your choosing!”

Finally he had said it. Gamagoori watched Mako’s face, waiting for her response. She appeared to be contemplating his words carefully. That was fine with him. He would rather her be completely certain than feel forced into something she didn’t want. The choice was now hers.

After a long pause, Mako broke her pose and clapped eagerly. “That was great, senpai.” She placed a hand on the back of her head, smiling bashfully. “I was so caught up in the moment I almost forgot it was for someone else. You probably should say the name of the girl when you practice. Ahh…she’s going to love it…” She was smiling dreamily with a far off look in her eyes.

Gamagoori revealed a small smile and said, “I did say her name.”

Mako’s mouth opened into an ‘o’ shape and she stared at him for many long moments. He remained where he was, waiting for her to come to her own conclusion. The moment broke with Mako jumping and exclaiming loudly, “What?! M-m-me?!”

“Yes. You.” He blushed deeply from where he knelt before her. “Forgive me, for taking so long.”

It was then that Mako was reduced to a babbling mess, gesturing and speaking too quickly for anyone to truly understand. Gamagoori finally felt calm; the release of his feelings had freed him from his fear. Gently he took hold of her hand and set the bouquet before her. She grasped it, settling down as she looked at the vibrant flowers.

“You are right. I want everything.”

She blushed, burying her face into the flowers. It appeared that now she was the one who could not speak. By then, the others were coming towards them. Most specifically, Ryuuko was. It seemed the diversion tactics had finally worn out.

“What the hell is going on?” Ryuuko asked, staring at Gamagoori kneeling and the pile of gifts in front of him. Mako turned, waddled on wobbly legs, and planted her red face into Ryuuko’s chest. “Wha…what’s wrong, Mako?!”

The response was muffled, but not enough to mask the meaning. “I’ve got a…d-date with Gamagoori-senpai!”

His heart soared.

rereading this i actually really love the concept and even 8 1/2 years later the characterization totally holds up! i'm also immediately rewatching kill la kill 🙈 14yo me deserves a nobel prize

#pom.chat #kill la kill #ira gamagoori #mako mankanshoku #sfw

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