#one day I'll scan these pages | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

generalsmemories · 11 months

Text

Admiral, the general is touch-deprived.

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: "Please do one if you haven’t where Jing Yuan is severely down bad for reader and makes it known to everyone and they are just done with him"

✧ content: established relationship, fluff, make-out scene, humor, mentions of other characters

✧ a/n: where did almost 100 of you come- bless this ask for making me write needy jing yuan i love you. not beta-read again anyway buckle up this is another one of unfiltered shame for my love for one mere general with a silly thunder lord that he nicknamed shin-kun in the jp dub because the official title was way too long for this old man.

this was written in a google doc on the phone since I'm on vacation so I apologize if the formatting is messier than the first post 🫡

There's tension in the air.

"... As for Stargazer Navidia, there seems to be another onslaught of mara-struck cloud knights making their way within the area in the next few days. I'll appoint Lieutenant Yanqing to lead a few troops there by the next hour, but be sure to send a messenger cycrane if the situation gets too out of hand or you need to divide the troops up to cover more ground."

You hear a loud "Yes!" as you flip over to the next page, quickly scanning through the documents contents, purposefully ignoring the tension in the air, muttering the details lowly to yourself with a furrowed eyebrow.

It's the sort of tension you wish everyone just ignored, even though it's more difficult than it sounds.

Perhaps being fed up with your avoidance of ignoring the elephant in the room, one of the captains of the Knights loudly cough into the air before meekly addressing you, "Admiral [Name]?"

"Yes?" you look up with a smile, cocking your head to the side. A small gesture to ensure the captain that they have your full attention which makes the knight before you quickly glance to the side and away from you, although that didn't help the pair of eyes boring a hole into the side of his head, "The general…" he starts, coughing once again while glancing back and forth at you and the weapons displayed at the seat of Divine Foresight, "... Would very much like your attention, it seems."

As if on cue, the arms that were wrapped around your waist squeeze a bit tighter than normal. The sudden pressure makes you let out a grunt of surprise while Qingzu lets out another exhausted sigh. Meanwhile you glance down to lock eyes with Jing Yuan, who very much is staring at you with a small pout evident on his lips, "Oh so my darling has finally acknowledged my existence?" he jokes with a grin, meanwhile you merely stare down back at him with a neutral expression before resting your left arm carrying the paperwork on his gray head. The general uses the opportunity to nuzzle his face into your waist, playfully biting into an exposed part of your skin from where his hand had wormed itself underneath your shirt, making you squirm away from him, to which he immediately grabs your back into his hold.

"If you haven't noticed dear, you're practically leeching onto me to the point I can't even stand at my usual side, that is to per say in front of the desk and not literally quite next to you and within your arms." You whisper to him gently. Flicking his forehead before whipping your head around to address the Cloud Knights before your husband can say anything in his defense.

You ignore the looks of disbelief on some of the soldiers' faces.

"I apologize for the awkwardness this position may cause, I can only hope for your understanding being that I've been away from the Luofu for a few months helping Marshal Fua with some matters at her fleet. I've only recently come back." you explain, gesturing Qingzu over to hand over the paperwork to her before waving your hand with a guilty smile, "You're all dismissed, please be safe out there."

"Lady Fu Xuan, how may I be of assis-"

"Are you two arguing or something?" Fu Xuan interrupts before you can even finish your sentence which leaves you staring wide eyed at her with your mouth agape, "Pardon? I'm not quite sure who you're referring to-"

"The general. I'm referring to general Jing Yuan, who else would I be referring to? He sits around the seat of Divine Foresight like a kicked puppy. Which makes it even harder to get any information in OR to him because he's not even mentally present! Can you fix him? Wonderful! Let's make haste to the seat."

You're not even allowed to finish your cup of tea or give an answer before the divination commissioner grabs you by the forearms and drags you out of the teahouse.

"Jing-" you haven't even taken one step into the seat of Divine Foresight before you're surrounded by the familiar scent of your husband. A gentle hand placed by your head while an arm is tightly wound around your waist. You can practically feel the smile of utter glee on Jing Yuan's lips as he buries his face into your hair.

"Darling, I thought you had the day off today?" he mutters into your hair, sounding a bit too happy to have you in his arms again to the point he's ignoring the death glares from Fu Xuan besides you, the divination commissioner just wanting to do her part of keeping the Luofu afloat.

"I was having my day off, before Lady Fu Xuan here dragged me out because someone didn't-" you struggle free to nag at him, but your husband merely smiles softly at you before lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss, "Now that you're here I feel more energized than ever, let me finish the paperwork for today and I'll join you, we can even play a round of starchess." he suggests.

You can practically sense Fu Xuan roll her eyes in disgust, able to hear her mutter about a "lovesick fool" before walking past the two of you, Jing Yuan merely grabbing your hand to lead you towards the seat.

So much for a day off.

You can't breathe.

"Jing-" another press of his lips onto yours as you find yourself pressed on the wall beside the door, "Yanqing-" you manage to breathe out when finally able to pull a tiny bit away from him. Pressing your hand over whatever surface of his face you can reach to try to shove him away, your other hand occupied with bracing itself against the wall.

Your husband ignores your literal hand on his face, somehow having more strength to still slant his lips across your own despite your efforts, the hand he has behind your head pushing you further against him while he shoves a leg between your own to keep you still, "Train-"

There's a rather loud set of knocks on your bedroom door followed by an exasperated sigh coming from behind it, which makes you freeze but Jing Yuan ignores it, sliding his tongue over your teeth while you resign yourself to slam your fist repeatedly on his back to get him to back off.

"General! I know you missed [Name] a lot during the months they were away from the Luofu, but you know that today is supposed to be a training day!" Yanqing shouts from behind the door, and you feel sorry over the realization he's aware of what's happening beyond it.

Feeling sorry enough for Yanqing whose probably already waited 15 minutes before knocking at the door, you muster whatever little strength you have left against your husband's addictive lips to grab his ponytail and yank him off and away from you.

Jing Yuan merely grunts in irritation, looking at you with a glare and swollen lips, but you ignore him. Opening the door before Jing Yuan can grab you again and giving Yanqing an apologetic look, "I tried-"

"It's better than last time, at least." He points out to which you merely sigh before opening the door wider, "I'll give you more pocket money this month, how's that for compensation?" You suggest, shoving your husband out the door before he do anything else, Yanqing smiling in triumph at your generosity.

"You're the best! Give me extra if I manage to land a few hits on the general?"

"5 more than usual and I'll give you an extra thousand." You settle, tapping Jing Yuan on the shoulder. Your husband turns around to face you with a hum, and you lean in to peck him on the cheek, gliding your lips over to his ear, "If you're a bit nicer to him today you'll also get a reward."

Needless to say, there were two very happy boys onboard the Luofu at the end of the day.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail x you #star rail x reader #hsr x you #jing yuan x reader #x reader #reader insert

9K notes · View notes

nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

moment's silence

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 7 — The night I lost a bet. [“You know what this means, don’t you?”] [6.6k]

— Summary: Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet. Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

— A/n: Canon-divergence; Reader and Tess met Joel at the same time, and all three became a tight-knit unit. | 🏷️ Tags & warnings⚠️: explicit mature content, minors DNI; age gap, mentions of canon-typical violence, confessions, touch starved, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), slow & deep sex, but also rough sex?, dirty talk, little spoon Joel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

All he can think about when he sees the bookshelf is your words, even if they were spoken on a whim years ago.

"There's no fucking way you can find a classic in good conditions anymore—not even Joel 'I can find anything' Miller is immune to decay and years of nature taking over. They're all gone, Joel. I just have to accept it. I bet there's not a single one that hasn't been wrecked by either people's ignorance or fucking mold eating every single page."

He remembered those words as clear as the day's first rays of light.

Not because of them, precisely. Because of what came after. He had blurted, "Bet what?" out of sheer instinct, only for you to reply with:

"Anything."

Maybe you were being metaphorical at the time, but Joel took it seriously. He outreached his hand for you to shake. "I'll take that bet."

If he never found a book, nothing would change.

If he won, on the other hand. Well—there's something Joel's been wanting from you for a long, long time.

That's why when he enters Bill's house for the first time, Joel stops dead in his tracks on the corridor leading to the kitchen.

You'd been to the house before with him and Tess.

Just like him, you had stood outside the whole time while Tess and Frank went about their rambles and deals. You, Joel, and Bill were all cut out from the same cloth—death stares etched onto your faces as if you were marble, grumbled conversation that came up here and there between long sips of wine.

Neither you nor Joel had been inside yet.

It's the third time he visits, first one without you, and he sees it—

Bookshelf.

One of Bill's doors is open on the way to the kitchen revealing what used to be an office but now looks more like a symbiosis of an atelier and library. It's — nice, Joel guesses.

It's not his thing.

Books — those are your thing.

Joel has no idea what connects you to the pages, but he knows it runs deeper than just academic pleasure, or snobbiness (an assumption made by many who met you).

It's as if whatever elements existed within paper, inked with words that strung together beautiful stories — it moved you.

Joel was entranced by the way you were able to quote several passages.

Few things remained that were worthy of admiration, or interest. He easily placed your small and precious book collection high above on his list.

That, and your ability to bring those stories to life somehow.

"Are you a reader?" Bill's voice is expected — Joel heard his steps approaching and stopping behind him when he did.

He scanned all the shelves, so he looks back to answer Bill. "Not really. Tess never mentioned who's the little Librarian between us? Our reader's absent today."

"If my, uh... —

If mine... if they brought strangers into our situation... I wouldn't be happy either."

"Oh. Well. They seem to listen to you as well as mine listens to me."

"I hope she feels better soon." Bill says the words and they sound so real. Spoken freely, not through gritted teeth or accompanied by his usual stiff shoulders.

Joel's hands rested on his hips. "Yeah." He hated this part — with Bill and Frank it was harder to not talk about things. He was pretty sure Bill didn't even like him, just like Joel didn't like him that much, but they saw each other. Understood one another. "Yeah, me too."

"The medicine you gave — it helped." That came out through gritted teeth. Joel held back from smiling at the unspoken admission—you sold me real shit. It's saving my partner. Thanks. "Frank's talking about — lavender. Herb garden and all. God."

Joel snickers and they exchange a look. "Good luck with that."

"I'll definitely need it." Bill's hands pat his sides, and Joel recognizes his motion before bolting out of a conversation. "Feel free to look at them," he waves a hand in direction of the shelf before leaving Joel there alone.

He does look.

One by one, Joel checks the titles because if you were here, that's what you'd do, and "when in doubt, always do what you must".

He hated that your words stuck to his brain so easily.

They were sticky like honey, which also resembled your voice. Or maybe that was only the way he heard it — Joel enjoyed listening to you talk.

"When in doubt, always do what you must" came after he left behind some supplies in order to help during a run, and you'd gotten mad at him for the first time.

It was then that Joel noticed how fucking tough you were.

Complete the mission. Help when you can. Do what you must.

If he was here already, he might as well read all the titles. Who knew how long he'd last? If he'd be here again, or if you would?

When his eyes land on Frankenstein, Joel knows he hit the jackpot.

That's when the memory of your bet sparks behind his eyelids, and he's cursed with the way you smiled that day.

Anything.

There was something Joel wanted, badly.

He cut out his own permission to want anything that strayed from finding Tommy again, getting clues to somehow discover a way to find his brother, get him back, but you planted the seed in his subconscious by simply existing — he was powerless to stop it.

One second, you and Tess walked into his life.

The next, he had on one side a best friend who cursed as much as him and on the other a menace who popped into his subconscious state, giving him dreams for the first time in years.

You two brought back a sense of humanity into his day-to-day life.

In return, Joel tried his best to do good for both of you.

Keep you safe however he could. Slip extra ration cards into your stack so you could more.

Small things like that — things that he later realized were only the seeds for the want that blossomed.

Joel wanted you out of the smuggling business.

He wanted you to be safe.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Your hand never missed the trigger timing — if there was anyone around the neighborhoods he lived more skilled in knives than you, he'd eat his own hand, and you were clever.

Quick, sharp, rational.

Despite all of that, he hated the sight of your back whenever a deal had them going outside.

Every time he saw a pistol or any other weapon in your hands, he wanted to throw it away as hard as he could.

And here he was, facing Frankenstein.

Anything.

Fuck. Joel hated how he hesitated.

If it belonged to anyone else, his hands would've already made the book meet the secret parts of his backpack, but he couldn't do this to contacts so good like Frank and Bill.

He couldn't fuck up this one.

Shit.

(Maybe he did like the two men, after all. Just a little.)

Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him the book.

One minute they're sitting alone drinking scotch while Tess and Frank finish up the trade and the next, they're talking about old hobbies they regretted not paying more attention to. Conversing like two normal people. Like Tess and Frank do, only without all the niceness and excitement.

At one point, Bill asks, "Did you see anything you liked?"

It takes a second for Joel to realize he's talking about the room and the shelf. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't a big fan of readin'." A lie, he thinks. "Even that's a stretch. I — probably should've done it more now that I think about it."

Bill's answer is a hum. "Yeah. Lots of things I wish I should've done. Properly. Piano's one of them."

Joel eyes the item in the room. He recalls you and Tess talking about how Frank was lucky to know an instrument. "Frank's good at it, though?"

"He was rustier when he arrived, but yeah — he's doing good now."

Joel admires that. Some things are probably talent, he figures. "Practice's everything. 's why I feel bad for people whose thing was, like, artsy. Y'know?" He lists you and Frank as examples. "They ain't got means to do what they really love now."

That's when Bill shares that Frank paints. Piano and drawn, painted art — that was nice. Frank probably missed a lot of things.

If what you said was true and artists withered without their art like some plants did without sun or water, then he must be sad nowadays.

The new information sparks up a memory. The abandoned art supply on Canbose with 5th Street — was it possible there were some there?

Joel kept the doubts to himself so as to not spark any hopes of things he'd fail to deliver, but the real surprise is that he and Bill have their first conversation there.

It's a nice one.

Joel loathes that his brain comes up with the knowing looks both you and Tess would give him and Bill if either of you saw the way the two men can converse so easily once the guns are gone.

Bill's — he's okay.

Rough around the edges, sure, but in polished, sturdy ways.

He's also a little box of Pandora.

The last thing Joel could expect was being called aside by Bill before he leaves with Tess, only to find him hiding behind the door waiting for him with a furtive air in his stance, as if there could be any secrets that they'd keep from theirs.

Bill extends the copy of Frankenstein without meeting Joel's eyes. "Here." He all but shoves it into Joel's hands, and then nods. "It's the one you kept touching."

There's no reason to play bargain or pretend this is a gift he's too humble to accept.

He does as he's told, thanks Bill with a long nod, and walks out.

It does beat at his mind on the walk back to the QZ, though—had he rambled about you that much?

It seemed impossible—to be fair, he always managed to keep the conversation away from himself, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet.

Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO DAYS LATER

The smell of your apartment envelops him every time.

Everything's open.

You keep plants hung in several places on your wall, and they're all so tall and green. Big, imponent, and your habit of walking through the place and touching one of them, sometimes going as far as plucking a leaf or petal out of them—the air suddenly turned into myrrh, lavender, eucalyptus.

Joel wished he smelled nothing other than here.

"Heard you were feelin' better," Joel says as soon as he has eyes on you.

There's more color on your cheeks. When you smile, Joel sees it reach your eyes even if it remains small in your lips. "Still feel like shit, though."

Tongue sharp as ever, then.

He chuckles and walks in as you move aside in invitation, gaze checking through the apartment as he takes off his shoes.

Joel always pays attention to everything that surrounds you.

While you ask about the trades you missed, he takes note of the spotless state of everything around him. Stainless windows, shiny floor, a sharp citrus scent lingering even around you.

Stress cleaning — check.

"Did you finish the food I gave ya?"

"Of course," you answer. Joel's happy to hear that — you ate very little on the first day you got sick, and he gave you some of his food to make sure you ate.

The two of you take a sit in the kitchen, and as you talk about work, he analyzes you better.

You had your most comfortable clothes on. They came from a box he found not long ago that was your size exactly; the shirt has wet stains on your chest, and your wet hair tells him you felt good enough today for the first time in a while.

Good enough to gather the patience to wash your hair in the sink.

"Don't mind Inoctus, you know he says that shit about the Fireflies all the time. I ain't gonna argue with him again," Joel waves a hand, and then gets to the part he wanted to talk about. "Never mind him, though — did Tess tell you about what Bill and Frank found for us? What Frank fixed?"

"No, not yet."

Excellent. "We've got some good news. Oh — and before I forget. D'you think that art supply on Canbose still has some supplies left?"

"The one that intersects with the 5th?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't see why it wouldn't have," you shrug your shoulders. "It's close enough to the QZ for it not be completely raided and I don't see who would prioritize stealing art supplies in the middle of everything." It made sense to Joel, and he felt a rare sense of giddiness tingling. "Why?"

He leans back on the chair. "Frank's a painter."

"No way."

Joel grins — you understood him. "Yes, way."

"Fucking hell. Is there anything he doesn't do?"

He laughs. "I know. I felt the same way."

"He plays the piano, he should be obliged by law to stick to that cool thing."

Joel likes it when you're feeling a little petty — the scrunch on your nose is adorable. He wants to pinch it between his fingers, even if he never did. "Anyway..." He shares the other updates about the trip to their house without you, then talks about the people who contacted him — the ones that gave him any trouble are your expertise, and Joel loves the set on your brows when you're listening.

He has no idea how someone who looks so precious can have such a wicked mind.

"She looks so — I don't know. Not this ingenious. Mean. How the fuck does someone who's always hummin' songs under her breath can intimate grown-ass man?"

"You're the only fucker who thinks she looks like an angel, Joel."

"Nah, we both know that's a lie."

"No, you're just delusional. If anyone thinks she looks angelic you better bet they're comparing her to Lucifer."

Was he? Delusional.

Tess always made him feel like he was faced with a Truth Mirror whenever he opened his big mouth around her.

After a couple of hours, you've already cooked some things — with the little help he could offer — for the both of you, taken notes of the people you need to talk to.

Joel realizes that time passes only when you.

Outside of your presence, it's all a snowball. Stale.

"Ah, shit." You get up in a rush.

"What?"

"Almost lost the time for my pills again," you mutter under your breath.

"You really need a watch." From where he sits at your kitchen table he can see your profile — the roll of your eyes. He huffs in disbelief, ignoring the feeling of his mouth tugging in the corners.

After you take your med, you sit on the couch and find his gaze from across the room. "Clean the table for me?"

Joel never says no to you.

Not for lack of want — fucking god must know how many times he's craved saying it, enunciating each letter with gusto. No.

It never came out.

He cleans the table thinking about how much he's delaying it.

The book's inside his duffel bag that remained next to your door all this time, but it weighs on his back somehow.

He did more than just clean the table as he tried pushing down the little mean jabs his mind took at itself.

You can't force her to stay outta business.

She ain't never listened to a soul in her life—who are you to tell her what to do?

Once every while, you would venture into Joel's personal space and place a finger where his brows pinched together. The first time it happened, the effect had been immediate—Joel was so shocked by the act that his whole face relaxed; not his body, though. His body froze, and he had stood there in a perfect portrayal of a statue.

You do that when he sits on the couch.

Your presence is so damn familiar to him that even lost in his own mind, he finds his way through the maze. He sits by your side, leans back, and drops his head on the couch.

When he feels your finger touching his frown, Joel opens his eyes.

"What's bothering you?" Your finger leaves, and he misses it.

Joel turns his head to the side. "Nothin'." He likes the way the color's back to your cheeks. A week on anti-inflammatory meds made you a little gray, and nothing about you was dull.

"You're a shit liar," you say.

He scoffs. "No, I'm not."

"You really are, though," you argue, fighting a smile. "And just so you know, your accent gets thicker the harder you try."

At that, he frowns. "No, it doesn't—" and fuck, he hears it. How the fuck did you notice that? His frown deepens, and you chuckle at him. "You pay attention to the strangest fuckin' things." It's said in the same gruff way he says most things, but there's enough admiration underneath it that you hear it for what it is.

"And thank god for that — it's what's kept me alive. Us alive," you snort, giving yourself the credit you're due for once.

In the end, he blurts it out. "I found it."

"Found what?" you ask, truly confused at the abrupt change.

"Something you told me I couldn't."

"That's... oddly vague," you reply. "I name a lot of things you can't find. You seem to think you have superpowers."

"No powers. Just talent." He shrugs, and gets up to retrieve the book. "What's the one thing you told me there was 'no fucking way' I could find?"

The second it takes for your brain to connect the dots is the time Joel needs to find the copy in his bag.

Joel sees your eyes dropping to it when he turns around. Widening. Freezing that way. Your lips parting only a couple of inches as your jaw slowly drops.

He sits with more satisfaction on your couch than he's sat anywhere in a long time.

The book falls with a soft thud between your bodies.

All the space he puts between you two is replaced by it —

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.

"You know what this means, don't you?" he asks.

When you look up, Joel's caught off guard.

The moisture in your eyes shines under the light coming from your kitchen. Joel's throat becomes restricted by an invisible force, and his eyes sting in response to the sight.

"What the fuck, Joel?" your hands pick up the book with a reverence that makes his skin tingle. "Where... how —" both times you start, then stop. "My god." He just watches. You turn the book around, eyeing every millimeter. "This is real," you mutter. He's aware you're not even talking to him at this point. "Have you—" you look up at him, and he feels special enough, "have you opened it? Are the pages—it's whole?"

The way you breathe out the word.

A reverence. So sacred.

Joel might as well consider the bet paid if he wasn't so far gone on what he wants.

Kind of.

"It's whole," he confirms.

Joel almost opens up his mouth to make a teasing remark. Ask if you'd like to be left alone with it, maybe. Instead, he lets you examine it to your heart's will, which takes a while.

He's always comfortable in the silence with you.

That's when he started realizing the trouble he was in.

When he came over just to sit at the same table as you. Have dinner in silence while you cleaned your guns. Sometimes, he'd imagine a bottle of scotch would make the two of you end up in whispered conversations under the dim, yellowish lights of your place, but it never happened.

Joel's too much of a coward to let his guard down with you.

He wouldn't be able to do what he did with the others — a sweet release in the dark; an impersonal match of bodies, mingled in sweat and joined in more ways than it should seem possible, but never looking each other in the eye.

You looked him straight into his soul when you spoke to him. Every time.

"This means... you won the bet," you say.

Joel blinks out of his thoughts. "Sure does."

"So." You put the book down gently on your lap, then gaze at him, eyes piercing into his. "What d'you want?"

Tough question. Joel felt the tingle that never left his skin covering him from head to toe. His throat constricts around the words — his body starts to heat up. He shakes his head, and is overwhelmed by how the air seems to charge between you both. He licks his lips, and says.

Like a coward, his eyes fall on Frankenstein before he speaks.

"Can't have what I want." The naked truth. What's the point of lying to you, anyway? You're a shit liar. "So I'll ask for a close second," he adds quickly. Something magnetic pulls at him, and he looks up — a mistake. Fucking mistake—you never looked at him this way. Is that red on your cheeks? "I — uh; I want a voucher. A veto power."

You blink, utterly confused. "What?"

"A veto power over you." It's the closest he could think of on his way here. Some kind of power, since Joel has no right to demand anything from you. "On a decision. I—If you said you're comin' on a mission, for example. I could say 'no. Veto.' and that'd be it. No arguments. I want a veto card over you. Just one."

You stare at him for a few seconds, and Joel can almost see the engines in your brain turning.

Joel sometimes feels you're more than just yourself. The eyes on your head see far beyond what's in front of them, and he feels naked quite often when in front of you.

"Just tell me what you want," you say.

Can't have what I want, he told you. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

"How would you know?"

"I just do," he argues.

"Maybe you're wrong."

"I'm not!" The storm swirls and lifts him from the couch. Joel turns his back to you, overcome by the reality of it all. "I know I'm not. There isn't—what I want is impossible. There's no such thing anymore. It ain't like the books, or finding fucking chocolate or—it ain't. I wanted you safe. How fuckin' stupid is that—" he chokes on air, gasping around the words. "There's no safe anymore." Softer, and lower, it comes out again. "There's no safe."

Most of the time, Joel's control is kept on a tight leash. His hands have a vicious grip around it because if he loosens it, it'll run off.

His hands are shaking now. He should turn back to face you, to see if he's just said too much or fucked it up somehow, but—you get up. He hears the squeaking of the couch and your steps approaching.

Then, as slowly as you approached him when you first met, he feels it:

Your hands slide around his middle. Your palms spread across his back and contour his waist, and you're hugging him—you hug him from behind, and Joel's chest expands with the air that your presence brings.

"Joel." You hug tighter. He can feel your upper body pressed against his back, and his hands come up to rest on top of yours, shaking as they are. He wants to speak up, but you beat him to it. "I thought I was going crazy, Joel."

Crazy? He is going crazy. You're wrapped around him and the world is yet to implode; Joel feels a knot in his throat that wasn't there before. "Why?"

It hits him — the answer.

Before you're able to say it hits him in the chest, because your hands grip him by the ribcages but not with force; all your fingers need to do is apply gentle pressure on him and Joel feels that you want him to move, so he lets you.

You spin him inside your hold, and Joel goes willingly.

When he's turned and facing you, the answer is there, all over your face.

Your hands stay on his back, but your eyes are searching on every inch of his face for any sign, for anything to deter you from what you want to do.

Joel sees it. He is delusional.

"I want the impossible too," you say. It comes out in a soft whisper, and Joel mentally curses all the moments of silence between you two where he felt the air as palpable as you inside his arms right now. When you looked at him, almost through him, and he turned a blind eye to it in fear that it was exactly what he wanted and craved for. "Is it — too much?"

He's incapable of answering.

His hands come up to your face, and he fits his palm on the set of your jar, where his thumb can touch your cheeks.

You melt to the touch, eyes closing along the way.

All those times you two shared a laugh and a look, and the silence hung in the air as your eyes were unable to leave each other — this. It could've been this.

"Tell me to stop and I will," is all he can say before he dives.

Joel meets you underwater.

The same way you're drowning in his hands with all of your weight supported on his body, Joel submerges as his mouth meets your kiss.

It's a waiting game — you were waiting for the moment he'd realize, he thinks.

Joel may be out of touch with reality itself, but some things can pierce through different dimensions.

Raw things never fail to elicit the strongest form of feeling and your desire pulls him under—real, demanding.

Although he remembers being a vocal partner in bed, he has no words or taunting remarks for you—he'd rather kiss.

Your mouth parts so eagerly for him that Joel wants to shut up.

He has you shutting up, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slides on yours. His fingers grip tighter on your hair. Your arms cling to him, then both of them let go to wrap around his shoulders instead, and Joel feels the despair as you climb up higher, as you press your body harder against him.

He understands it. Empathizes, even — he's feeling it on him the same way.

Your desperate, wet kisses rekindle connections long lost in his brain.

Joel remembers the desperate and insane horniness of youth when hormones mix with inexperience and everything feels new and like a raw, open nerve.

This tastes like those moments.

It'd been so long since Joel was touched and your hands start a mapping of his body that start to get him drunk.

It hits him that it's you. He's kissing you, and you're kissing back with so much force that he has no air, there's no air in his lungs—

He pulls back, gasping, and feels your nails digging into his scalp. The moan scratches the back of his throat and Joel only notices his eyes are still closed when your forehead touches his and your breath starts mingling with his.

Opening his eyes is a blessing. And a curse, most likely.

Seeing your mouth swollen and puffy makes him greedy.

Then — "Are you stopping?" you ask. Hoarse voice. Breathless. "I didn't tell you to stop," you add, whining.

Joel picks you up in one motion, and the laughter that bubbles out of your chest reminds him that you're light — you're the ghost that pops up in his dreams shining with the pink hue of sundown and you're the hope of his mornings, the scent of coffee and pages and herbs that make him feel like this earth could still have a sense of home even if he denies that fact, gritting his teeth at the fact the world still goes on.

He pins you against the nearest wall. One without a shelf, or furniture.

With you pressed against the wall, he has better support. He can trace your thighs with his palm, can get his hands underneath your cotton shorts, your blouse.

"Are you trying to kill me?" you ask him. Your head hits the wall behind you, and Joel looks up to see you watching him as he maps you. You visibly swallow when your gazes meet, and Joel wants to say so fucking much, but nothing comes out at first.

All he wants is to make the pink on your lips become permanent.

He wants to rip every item of clothing on you with his hands, and wants to —

"Joel," you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss and stealing all the images he had of you pinned on your own wooden floor, cheeks pressed against it as he took you from behind.

When your tongue meets his, Joel feels something snapping.

He growls into the kiss, both of his hands groping your asscheeks as he desperately grinds his hips against your body.

This kiss is even better than the first, even if it kills all of his oxygen faster.

Joel never kissed like this. Not this messy, this wet and sloppy mess of need, and dry humping, and swallowing your moans only to have them be echoed back to you when you grind your hips down in the perfect way—

When he pulls back for air this time, Joel grips your head by the hair, making a fistful at your nape.

"This is not just now, is it?" he asks. His own voice sounds like sandpaper and pure lust, and he's not even beginning.

"No, no," you shake your head. "I need you, Joel."

"Fuckin' hell," he has more to say, but now he needs you naked. "'m gonna take off your clothes. Then I'm gonna eat your pussy 'cause I've thought about it too many fuckin' times." Your jaw falls open at him, and Joel smiles despite himself. "Yeah. You gonna let me, baby? Hm?"

Your only answer is to nod desperately, grinding against him as your eyes close.

Joel's in heaven. "Did I win what I want?" he asks.

"What?"

"My veto," he pulls you away from the wall and starts carrying you to your bedroom. "I still want it. Can't have the impossible but I can have a veto."

You laugh as he kicks your door open. "You want a fucking veto? Joel, all you have to do is hold me by the chin and say 'no' or 'yes' and I'd do it. It's that simple. Always have been. " You grab his face between your hands and pierce him with those All Seeing Eyes. "I'll give you your veto, if that's what you want." You kiss his lips, sighing softly. "'m sorry I can't promise you I'll be safe, but I can promise I'll try."

Joel knows he's about to do something that can't be taken back when he lies you down.

He nods just so you know he understood, but the knot's formed again and if he speaks, Joel will cry — the words wouldn't come out anyway, even if he wants to say them.

Joel's unsure if they haven't been burned out of his tongue.

He takes off your clothes one by one. Ironic for someone who wanted them ripped to pieces not a minute ago, but to have you laid in front of him soothes the desperation somehow.

His plans get interrupted, though, because once you're naked and all of his brain is mushed into nothing but skin skin you you touch touch touch, you stop him from kneeling down at the edge of the bed with a touch and one request, "You too?" your gaze is so open and vulnerable that his hands go to his shirt. "No — lemme. Please."

Joel does, and you do the same to him, taking his clothes off one by one.

When you drop to his knees in front of him, Joel is powerless.

He's too stunned to say or do anything but look.

Even his hands that itch to touch only manage to do so when they're flying for some support so his knees don't buckle and he falls — you grab his cock by the base with one hand, look up until his eyes are locked on yours, and then licks a wet stripe from his balls to the tip.

Then you do it again, and again, until Joel's coated in saliva, and you can suck around the tip, swallowing him down in one go.

He grips your hair for life support, cursing under his breath.

Joel's vocal about how much you're fucking killing him.

You go at it slowly, which is even more torture, but he gets it. He remembers you talking about not being with a person for the longest time. How it made no difference for you to have the physical or not because the attraction wasn't there unless there something underneath it — for someone who's out of practice, you must have the knowledge.

Your tongue runs on the sensitive skin between the dick and his balls, your mouth suctions when it's taking him down and when you start bobbing your head, using your hand to cover the parts your mouth can't reach, Joel has to physically pull you back.

"Stop, stop —" his hand on your hair pulls you back, and Joel curses again when you whine at having to let go. "'m gonna fuck you, baby, it's okay, 's okay," he gets you up by the neck, and is kissing you right after.

That's how he falls in bed with you — with his cock leaking pre-cum, his back already coated in sweat and your mouth tasting like him.

Joel eases the fall with his hand, not wanting to crush you with his weight. He wants to eat you out — Joel wants to bury his face in you, but when he makes a move to go down, your legs clamp around his waist and your head starts shaking.

You pull back from his kiss, "No — later, you can do that later, just — please," you guide your hand between your bodies to hold him and guide his cock to your entrance. "Waited too long, Joel."

I need you, Joel.

"Wait, wait — " it'll be over too fast if he sees you all the time. Joel has an idea. "A position that's better for you first. I wanna see you too, but I want you to feel good. Turn around for me."

"You want me on all fours?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just turn around."

You obey him, and Joel grabs one of your pillows to push under your waist. You rest your cheek on the one under your head, and he positions himself first before crowding your space with his head on the crook of your neck.

He dips his fingers in first, spreading your wetness all over you before lining up.

It's sinful how good the position is.

He fills you up, bottoming all the way out. Joel's thick, but not too long, and he knows this angle is as good for you as it is for him. "Feels good?" he asks in your ear.

Your only response is his name.

"Is that a yes?" he pulls all the way out, and slams it back in, wanting to feel the drag. Wanting to feel your walls clamping around him. How you open up to accommodate all of him. "'Cause you feel like — fuckin' heaven, baby — louder, say it louder —"

"Feels amazing, Joel," you cry.

He knows it does. Joel hasn't felt anything remotely close to pleasure in a long time, so this might be too much, he might be in danger of growing an addiction, but he's past caring.

He drags it out.

Joel wanted to fuck you senseless a while ago, but now all he wants is to stay buried in the tight and warm haven of your cunt until you're both too spent to move a muscle. "'m gonna stay — all fuckin' night — inside you, baby — hm, whaddaya think?"

"Yes, please—"

"God, I love — that's all you can say to me."

"Don't stop," you cry out louder.

"I won't." He couldn't.

He doesn't want to. He doesn't.

Joel thrusts into you slow, measured and deep, until the heat in his groin is climbing like your nails digging at his sides. He loses count of how many times he sucks on your shoulders, how many bite marks you must have on your neck, of how many single-worded compliments he spills in your ears as he fucks the words out of you.

When you beg to cum, Joel flips you over and hoists your leg higher so he can go in deeper, and he fucks you the way you've been begging him to — crying around his fingers for harder, and faster, Joel, please, please, I'm not gonna break —

He gives it to you like both of you have been dying to receive, and when your legs start shaking around him and his name drops from your lips in a scream, Joel pulls out, coating your stomach in the hot strings of his cum.

He doesn't collapse on top of you, which is a miracle.

He does lay strategically next to you in order to avoid his own mess until he's able to feel his legs again.

Your fingers thread his hair during that time.

The spasms of your legs make him smile, and the little hums that leave you without you even realizing make Joel float on his bliss.

When he comes back to himself, he gets up to get a warm towel. He cleans you both, just enough so sleeping is okay. He pulls up the duvet and puts you underneath it before climbing under as well.

When he lays, Joel expects you to turn around;

Instead, you wrap around him in octopus style, and whisper, "Turn around."

He obeys, and is rewarded by you spooning him.

Joel thinks he might be dreaming.

"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" you ask after a while.

Your bodies are as tangled as they can be. Your hands caress the hairs on his chest and your breath is on his neck, and still, you are stared he'll leave.

"D'you want scrambled eggs or you prefer the toast?" he replies.

There's a kiss on his neck. Another on his shoulder. He grabs one of your hand to pull it to his lips, and kisses it.

"Scrambled."

"'kay. Where d'you keep your sugar? I can never find it."

"I'll show you tomorrow," you kiss his shoulder, and squeeze his body. "Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

He can feel your smile because your lips are on his skin. He's gonna use that more, he thinks. "I might wake up rubbing myself all over you," you whisper.

He laughs. "Fine by me."

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖

⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back, you know... or what you thought of this one.. just saying... <3

#usernexusnyx #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #nightskychallenge #joel miller fanfiction

4K notes · View notes

slytherinslut0 · 5 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Four-Info:you and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, ANGST ANGST ANGST, Kissing, Childhood Trauma, Slight!GunPlay(very slight), More Angst, Sadism, Slight Emotional Manipulation.

Find the rest of the chapters HERE.

Your fingers glided gently across the pages of your open book, tracing the lines of text as if seeking to absorb the knowledge directly into your skin. The ambient hush of the library enveloped you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional murmur of voices in the distance. It was a haven of tranquility, a sanctuary where you could finally turn your thoughts off and allow yourself to get lost within the words of the text.

In this cocoon of silence, you immersed yourself, your eyes traversing the lines on the page with a voracious hunger for understanding. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old parchment and the subtle aroma of polished wood, creating a sensory symphony that enhanced your focus. But amidst this serenity, an abrupt disruption shattered your concentration. The creak of a chair being pulled out and the faint sound of footsteps approached, heralding an unexpected presence.

Startled, your eyes lifted from the text to find Mattheo seated across from you--his dark, penetrating gaze drilled into yours, his eyes narrowed with a glaring suspicion as he analyzed your features, slowly and cautiously--not daring to speak. The sudden intrusion in such a public setting caught you off guard; a mix of surprise and unease filling your lungs as you blinked, glancing around the room to ensure no attention had been drawn.

It had been two days since the events in the bathroom, two whole days where the conversations were as bland as a piece of raw fucking chicken, and yet, here he was. Without warning. You had no fucking clue what he was doing here, but the look in his eyes told you it wasn't for any particularly pleasant reason.

"When were you planning on informing me about your little friend's new companion, hm?" His voice sliced through the air like a blade, his eyes narrowing with sadism. "I mean...I just happened to stumble upon her leaving my brother's dorm, and I'd highly fucking doubt she was there for a casual browse through his book collection, wouldn't you agree?"

Your eyes widened in shock, nerves flooding through you like an icy tide, freezing your words in your throat. You had been meaning to tell him, but since the two of you had hardly been speaking, it seemingly slipped your mind.

You glanced around the room, as if searching for an escape from the intensity of his gaze, before finally managing to whisper, "Are you fucking serious right now? Why is that any bloody concern of yours?"

"I just find it utterly fascinating," he sneered, his voice dripping with dangerous intent as he leaned over the table, scuffing his chair toward you. "...the intricate web of secrets you weave, Raven...not very Ravenclaw of you, now is it?"

"How is that a secret?" you hissed, your voice laced with both irritation and trepidation. "And why would I care about Emily getting with Tom? I never had any feelings for-"

"Not talking about that," he interrupted, his tone sharp as he cut through your words. "I'm talking about everything, in a far more broad context...all of the willing little lies and deceit...all the ways you've used me, just as much, if not more, than I've used you...you even managed to outwit Tom, which is one hell of an impressive accomplishment all on its own, I'll give you that."

The oxygen in the room vanished, leaving you nearly gasping for breath. "I...outwit Tom?"

"Well, it was only thanks to his blaring review that you landed this mentorship, was it fucking not?..." he scanned your features, his brows pinching in focus. "Every calculated step you've taken, every deceptive move you've made, all orchestrated to extract what you wanted for your bloody career...it truly makes a man wonder..."

His words struck like a cold breeze, sending a chill down your spine as you struggled to process the weight of his insinuations--you were beyond startled by the pace of this conversation, each syllable from his lips landing like a punch to the gut, rendering your mouth mute.

"I..." his words had you reeling, your voice catching in your throat, your confidence shattered by his unsettling revelation. "What the hell are you implying, Mattheo?"

Your throat tightened as you struggled to maintain composure. Swallowing hard, you tried to play it off, squinting at him in an attempt to mask your anxiety. But his penetrating gaze saw through your facades, leaving you defenseless against his piercing scrutiny. Mattheo's movements were deliberate, each shift in his chair calculated to exude an air of intimidation and control. His eyes, sharp and predatory, followed your every reaction as if he were studying his prey before a calculated strike.

"I did some digging on you last night...on your background...what your parents do...since, you know, you clearly had no interest in telling me yourself..." a sinister smile played on his lips, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction. His voice lowered to a barely audible murmur, laced with a sense of superiority. "After the night at the lake, after that little spat we had...I just...I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to you than met the eye...and boy was I ever fucking right.”

Letting his words sink in, he leaned back in his chair, that sickening grin still plastered across his face. As the realization of his words settled like a heavy stone in your chest, you grew increasingly uncomfortable, acutely aware of the other students nearby. Their presence, though not directly involved, added a layer of unease to the situation.

Leaning across the table, you whispered urgently, "Do you have to do this here?" The words escaped your lips in a hushed plea, your voice strained with the need for privacy and a shred of dignity. "Like at least-"

Mattheo's response was chillingly calm, his grin widening with malicious delight.

"Oh, princess, come on," he purred, his tone a twisted mockery of sweetness. "Why continue to hide the truth? Let them hear what kind of person you really are..."

Your anger surged, the intensity of your emotions making your fingers grip the book tightly as you leaned in closer to him.

"You're a despicable asshole, you know that?" you spat out, your voice edged with pure disdain. "What's your bloody angle here?"

"Never claimed otherwise, did I?" His tone was flat, devoid of any remorse; meeting your words with an infuriating calmness. "Unlike you, I don't pretend to be something I'm not."

Your eyes rolled so forcefully it felt like you were glimpsing the inside of your skull, a groan of frustration clawing at your throat. Of course, he chose this moment--a place where you had to hold back your torrent of emotions, where you couldn't unleash the full force of your anger upon him. He knew exactly what he was bloody doing here, and it was fucking infuriating.

"Enough with the games, Riddle," you snapped, the words escaping through clenched teeth, your patience stretched to its limit. "Stop being a bloody arse and spit it out already."

"Your family history," he said, leaning in so close that your eyes locked in a battle of wills, each glance a dagger threatening to pierce the other's resolve. "It isn't as pristine as one might think...in fact, I'd almost be inclined to say it's the complete fucking opposite."

Your entire body tensed, coiling like a tightly wound spring. There was a pause as you studied his face, trying to decipher exactly what he knew before responding.

"Careful, Mattheo," you retorted, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Just because you've unearthed a few skeletons doesn't mean you've cleared the whole closet."

"Honestly, Raven, I'm just curious," his grin stretched wider, the atmosphere around him growing denser with an almost palpable tension. "How did you manage to play the part for so long? You certainly had me fooled...even managed to trick the sorting hat into believing your little fucking charade...it's quite impressive, truthfully..."

A knot tightened in the pit of your stomach, every nerve inside you screaming in turmoil. "I...I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Don't even bother," Mattheo's words cut through your feeble denial, and he tilted his head, his intensity thickening the air around you. "I see right fucking through you, now, princess...that innocent act won't work on me anymore..."

His eyes, like burning coals, seared into your skin as if trying to uncover hidden truths. The room seemed to close in around you, amplifying the weight of his accusation.

"Generation after generation of Pureblood fucking Slytherins..." he continued, his voice low and laced with feign exasperation. "And yet, here you are...apparently as Ravenclaw as they come...you've managed to make yourself so damn-near invisible that no one even fucking noticed..."

Your breath hitched, caught in the vice grip of his merciless scrutiny. The truth of his words hung heavily in the air, a damning revelation that sent a shiver down your spine. Your carefully constructed facade, your shield against the world, was crumbling, and Mattheo had managed to find the cracks, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in his piercing gaze.

"I'll admit, I feel rather idiotic for not piecing it together sooner..." he sneered, his tone cutting through the tension like a knife, hands curling into fists atop of the desk. "I guess I was too entranced by your starry-eyed facade to see the cunning Slytherin hiding beneath, even though it was right in front of my face this whole time...your biting sarcasm, your unrelenting ambition, and your overly-eager knack for deceit--classic fucking Slytherin traits, aren't they, Raven?"

Your entire being blazed with a searing heat, a tempest of conflicting emotions threatening to consume you. The urge to throttle him until he fell silent warred with a fierce desire to pull him close and lose yourself in a breathless kiss. How infuriating it was to witness his sharp wit, a talent he wielded effortlessly, yet one he seemed unwilling to apply to his fucking studies.

At your silence, he huffed, glimpsing your lips again. "Not even the stars can change the essence of who you are, princess." He whispered, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Maybe it's about time you were honest with yourself."

Your anger surged like a tidal wave, crashing against the shores of your restraint. In that charged moment, you leaned in closer, as close as you possibly could, your body practically vibrating with intensity. How dare he sit there, smug and superior, acting like he had unraveled the very fabric of your being just because he had dug up a few skeletons from your family's closet?

Sure, your parents weren't paragons of virtue, but their actions don't define you--and that was the very the essence of all this. Every choice you've made, every hardship you've endured, has been a deliberate effort to distance yourself from their toxic legacy. His derisive remarks only fueled the fire, and you practically hurled the words at him, your voice laden with disdain.

"You don't know a single fucking thing about me," you seethed, "all you fucking know is what the inside of my body feels like...don't you dare sit there and act like you've got me all figured out."

Your steps were purposeful as you pushed up and away from the table, leaving him sitting there, his words lingering in the air like a bitter aftertaste. You moved back into the library, the familiar scent of old books surrounding you like a protective barrier, but you knew it wouldn't shield you from the storm that was Mattheo bloody Riddle for long. No, that would be far too fucking easy.

And nothing about your situation with that boy was easy.

As you put your book back on the shelf, you felt his presence behind you, a suffocating weight pressing down on your shoulders as you reluctantly spun back around to face him.

"Why'd you do it, huh?" Mattheo's voice cut through the air like a razor, his narrowed eyes fixed on you as he backed you up against the shelf, his presence overwhelming. "Are you truly that ashamed of who you fucking are?"

"Mattheo," you spat, your fists clenching at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. "Please, don't push it...if I wanted to tell you about that, I would have..."

"Yeah, you're ashamed," he sneered, dismissing your words with a cynical laugh, confirming his original point. "You're ashamed of where you come from...fuck, I always knew we were alike, but I never knew it'd be this much-"

"What the fuck is this? Some type of elaborate power-play move? Some type of big intimidation act to get me to tell you about my life?..." you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "If you wanted to know, why didn't you just ask me? Instead of fucking me every chance you got why didn't you try having a real conversation with me? Try actually opening up to me for once?"

"Even if I did..." he said, dropping his tone into a low whisper. "Would you have told me? You said it yourself that you don't fucking trust me..."

"What do you want to know, Riddle? Huh? You want me to tell you how I grew up in a mansion full of emptiness? How my parents were never around and I was left with my cold, reserved grandmother, who cared more about her fucking butler than me?...or maybe you want to know about how I was raised in a world of expectations, forced to be perfect in every way imaginable, while my parents only bothered to acknowledge my existence when it served their social ambitions..."

You paused, frowning at him, your features a near scowl. "You're sure quick to call me a rich little princess...and sure, maybe you're right, maybe I had all the material things one could ever desire...but it was never enough, could never be enough. Something was always missing, like a void inside me that nothing would ever fucking fill."

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you continued, the weight of your past bearing down on you. "When my grandmother got sick, it was the only time she actually fucking spoke to me. She told me to be different, to break free from the mold that had plagued my family for decades. I was there with her in her final moments, the first and only fucking time she ever said she loved me. And where were my parents? Absent, as always. They didn't even show up until days after her death, showering me with gifts, as if their mere presence could make up for years of neglect..."

In an unrelenting torrent, words cascaded from your lips, each syllable carrying the burden of years' worth of pent-up emotions. Mattheo's unwavering gaze never strayed, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, absorbing every uttered syllable as though he never anticipated such revelations.

"Sure, maybe I was handed whatever I wanted on a silver fucking platter--but I was always alone, and truthfully, that's how I fucking preferred it. I never believed in destiny, Mattheo...the stars never whispered my name, my future...I had to shape my own path, I had to become something of my own...once my grandma passed, I was left with the butler. My parents didn't care about what I did as long as my grades were to their standards. They had no idea I wasn't in Slytherin until my third fucking year..."

You paused, your eyes catching Mattheo's parted lips, a reflection of sheer astonishment. Despite fighting to maintain composure, your voice softened with each breath, your heart pounding in your throat.

"I had to grab my own fate with two hungry hands, pulling and pushing and molding my life into something I could be fucking proud of...and then you came along, with your smart mouth and your fucking effortless charm...and you just...you forced your way right into my bloody heart, tore down my walls like you fucking belonged there." The bitterness in your voice hung in the air, the pain of your past etched into every word, your chest heaving with emotion as Mattheo stood in front of you, speechless. "Yes, I've made mistakes, but they belong entirely to me...and thats precisely what sets us apart, you went through some shit and let it possess you...I chose to fight back."

Trembling fingers betrayed the turmoil within, your entire body quivering in the aftermath of the verbal storm you'd just unleashed upon Mattheo. Only when the deafening silence enveloped you did the weight of your words become palpable.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, you broke eye contact, running a trembling hand through your hair. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to trauma dump on you like that, I just-"

"No," he declared, "don't you dare apologize to me...I should be the one apologizing to you."

Mattheo's interruption sliced through the charged air, his voice emerging rasped and strained, as though he had withheld words for years. Swallowing, you met his intense gaze, attempting to decipher the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within his eyes.

"Don't pity me, Mattheo...I'm well past needing that," you whispered, your figure leaning subtly against the bookshelf, a tangible weariness emanating from your being. "Everything you've ever said was right...two sides of the same coin, the masks, the fact that we're each haunted by our own ghosts. You've always been fucking right. The only misstep was when you claimed you'd be my ruin."

Mattheo arched an eyebrow, bridging the distance between you with a measured step. "And why is that?"

"Because, little did you know, I was already in ruins," you murmured, reaching out to loop your fingers around his belt, pulling him closer. "If anything, you've been my bloody salvation...you did something I wasn't sure I was capable of anymore--you made me feel."

A tangible tension hung in the air as Mattheo's hands gripped your hips with a silent urgency, a fervent plea for your presence.

"As if you're going to fucking say that," he countered, his grip conveying unspoken desires. "As if that's not precisely what you did to me."

"Yeah?" you smirked, your voice a sultry whisper. "And what do I make you feel?"

"Everything, Raven," he cooed, lips grazing sensually over your jawline. "Hate, desire, anger, lust...among other things."

Your breath hitched, suspended in the charged exchange. "Among other--"

Before you could finish, Mattheo cut you off, his lips crashing onto yours in a searing kiss, a palpable surge of desire that eclipsed the need for spoken words. He pressed you against the bookshelf, the wooden solidity of the shelves meeting your back. His hands, with a journey of their own, glided up your sides, their warmth leaving a trail of anticipation. They found their destination on your face, gently cupping it with a possessiveness that made your heart flutter, and you sighed into his mouth, letting your hands rest at his sides.

"Everything about you is so fucking addictive..." Mattheo's confession hung in the air, a declaration punctuated by the heat of his lips tracing a fervent path along your jaw. His hand, a serpentine caress, slithered down your arm, leaving a tingling trail of warmth in its wake. "You are both hellfire and holy water...soft yet strong...and every bloody time I touch you I feel a little less war-torn, like your chaos balances out mine...I just...I have no idea what peace feels like Raven, but I have to imagine it feels a lot like you..."

"Mm...fuck, I've missed you..." a soft sigh escaped your lips as his kisses descended, exploring the landscape of your neck. Your fingers instinctively tightened their grip on his shirt. "Whatever happened to that break you said you wanted..."

"Fuck the break," he growled, desire lacing his voice. His hand ventured boldly behind your head, the other finding a home on your hip, possessive and hungry. "I want you so fucking bad...I want to fuck you right here...right against this fucking shelf...cover your filthy little mouth so no one can hear you fucking moaning for me..."

"Shit..." you mewled, gasping slightly as his hand slid around to grip your ass. "Maybe...if two people can't seem to stay the fuck away from eachother, they aren't meant to be apart, hm?"

"Maybe you're right..." Mattheo purred, nipping at your earlobe as he pressed you back against the shelf. "I've always been a strong man, Raven...but you break me without effort...you are my weakness, the chink in my fucking armour..."

"Your undoing?" you murmured, your fingers tracing over his belt.

He hummed. "Precisely."

"When are you going to open up to me, Mattheo?" You whispered, your voice a fragile murmur as though you were afraid of the answer, slipping your fingers under his belt now, gliding along its path. "Tell me all the bad things you've done...tell me what made you into the weapon you are...you don't need to be afraid...I saw your darkness from the very beginning and I'm still fucking here, aren't I?..."

"Why?" His grip tightened, breath hitching. "Why didn't you run?"

Your lids fluttered, slowly losing yourself in the warmth of his breath against your neck. His scent enveloped you; a familiar, soothing balm to the ache he'd caused with his recent request for a break. The answer formed easily in your heart, though voicing it required vulnerability, more than you'd ever expected to give.

"Because...it was a reflection of mine."

Mattheo's only response was a deep growl that rumbled through the charged space, a primal sound that resonated with desire. Without hesitation, he pulled you back into a hungry kiss, his body pulsating with pent-up energy seeking release. The intensity of the kiss mirrored the raw hunger between you, a magnetic force that defied all notions of any further separation.

As your fingers continued their exploration along his belt, tracing the contours with a teasing caress, you encountered an unexpected sensation--cold, unyielding metal tucked between the leather and his abdomen, its texture rough, and harsh. A chill ran down your spine as confusion slowly crept over you, your eyes fluttering open in slow, tentative blinks, fingers seemingly frozen in place.

Mattheo, lost in the heat of the moment, seemed oblivious to your sudden unease. The kiss deepened, his hunger transferring into the fervency of the embrace. But your focus had shifted, and your trembling fingers tentatively confirmed the nature of the cold object--something metallic, something that should not be there. You gently pulled away from the kiss, your eyes wide with realization, fixated on the metal object now halfway exposed. Dread tightened your chest as your brows pinched, flicking back up to meet his eyes.

"Mattheo," you whispered, the name carrying a weight of urgency, "what is this?"

Mattheo's swallow echoed in the charged silence, his gaze dropping to your hand, his chest still heaving from the passionate kiss. His eyes widened as the weight of your question settled in, a realization dawning on him, as if he had momentarily forgotten about the object concealed within his belt.

"Raven, I-"

He began, but you interrupted, yanking your hand back. "No-what the fuck-"

"Stop," Mattheo commanded, his tone abruptly taking on a harsh edge. With deliberate movements, he pulled up his shirt slightly, revealing more of the mysterious object nestled between his belt. The revelation hung in the air, and Mattheo, eyes now serious, asked a question that carried the weight of the moment: "Do you trust me, Raven?"

Your eyes squinted as a realization crashed over you, the rhythm of your heart shifting into a turbulent drumbeat within your chest. There was absolutely no denying it--that sleek, ominous silhouette spoke volumes. That was a fucking gun.

Frozen in a surreal disbelief, your ability to think, blink, or move was momentarily hijacked. Mattheo's hand surged upward with a suddenness that matched the shock in your eyes, seizing your jaw with a commanding force. His fingers, both firm and urgent, redirected your gaze, forcing you back to the depth of his eyes, which were now darker than the midnight sky.

"Answer me," he demanded, the intensity of his words amplified by the gravity of the situation. "Do you fucking trust me?"

The weight of the question echoed in the charged air. Your mind spun, grappling with the incredulity of the scene unfolding before you. Firearms had been a distant memory, relegated to hunting trips with a Muggle friend back in middle school. Yet, the stark reality of Mattheo possessing a fucking handgun in the heart of Hogwarts shattered any remnants of normalcy, the shockwaves reverberating through your very core.

"I-I-" you stammered.

Mattheo jostled your head in his grip, pulling you closer. "Yes or no question, Raven."

Blinking, you found yourself caught in a tempest of conflicting emotions. The tendrils of trust warred with the unsettling presence of the gun, a contradiction that defied all reason. In the throbbing silence, Mattheo's growl of frustration pierced the air. Relinquishing his grip on your jaw, he seized your wrist, directing it back toward the ominous weapon.

"Take it out," he commanded, his eyes fixed on yours. "Right now, Raven. Take it."

A whimper escaped you, your fingers trembling as they tentatively wrapped around the cold metal. With visible reluctance, you extended it out, pointing the gun down at the floor. Mattheo's grip on your wrist persisted, unyielding, anchoring you in the unsettling reality of the moment.

"I'll ask you one more fucking time," he whispered harshly, the words slicing through the charged air like a razor. His breath, warm against your face, carried an unsettling contrast to the gravity of his demand. "Do you trust me?"

Another desperate whimper slipped past your lips, the nodding of your head an almost frantic plea. "Yes! Please, I trust you. Just take it back-"

Mattheo's reply erupted as a snarl, a guttural growl that echoed with a feral intensity. His features, twisted by a crazed possession, accentuated the mad determination in his eyes as he tightened his grip on your wrist. With an unhinged sense of purpose, he directed it upward, the cold barrel now pressing menacingly against his own temple.

"Pull it," he said stoically, the eerie calmness chilling against the tension. "Pull the trigger."

Your jaw dropped, the brimming tears reflecting the disbelief that swirled in your eyes. "No! What the fu-"

"Do it," he repeated, the calmness persisting. "Go on, baby, pull it."

Sickened and paralyzed by the surreal horror of the moment, you hesitated, the sheer shock of what Mattheo was asking you to do anchoring you in a moment of profound disbelief. Your mind swarmed with recollections of the crazy things you'd done for him before, but this--this was unlike anything you had ever fucking imagined. The weight of the gun in your hand, the gravity of the situation, left your brain reeling as the stark realization of the moment seized hold of your senses.

His frustration, palpable and charged, manifested in another growl. With a menacing determination, he shifted his hand to envelop yours, forcing your finger down, the pressure on the trigger unrelenting.

You heard the click, you felt the click--and yet, nothing happened.

"Fuck..." you choked out, a turbulent blend of relief and confusion seizing your senses in a tumultuous embrace. "What the fuck..."

He blinked, his dark eyes tracing over your lips as he clicked it again. And again. The ensuing silence, pregnant with the surreal gravity of the situation, echoed through the seemingly empty library. Each breath you exhaled became a struggle, the air tinged with the weight of the inexplicable moment, your senses teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Then, like a tidal wave crashing over you, the realization struck with breathtaking force. "It's enchanted..."

"About fucking time you caught on." Mattheo nodded, his acknowledgement cutting through the charged air with terse confirmation. He released the hold on your hand, pulling the gun away and casually slipping it back under his belt. "This gun only serves one purpose Raven, and it's never to kill, only to protect..."

Your heart leapt. "Protect what?"

"Doesn't matter," he said, a gentle hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes. “You can trust me, Raven…you can always fucking trust me…”

You exhaled, a long, exasperated breath. “I know, Mattheo…”

“Good girl,” he cooed, a smirk playing on his lips as he stoically reached into his back pocket, as if on a quest for something. "Has Nott popped the question yet?"

Your cheeks flushed. "Yes.."

"Good," he replied, his other hand securing your wrist before he withdrew his busy one, placing a handful of Galleons in your outstretched palm. "Go treat yourself to a dress. Something red, something tight."

As he withdrew his hand, he leaned in, placing a hot, wet kiss on your cheek, smirking from ear to ear as he said. "I've got something I have to do tonight, so I can't stay...but I look forward to respectfully ripping off whichever lovely dress you decide on."

"Respectfully?" you quipped, a playful glint in your eyes. "I'll make sure to pick a dress that demands nothing less than the most dignified removal, then."

"Oh, Raven...I can promise you it'll be the furthest thing from dignified." He snickered, wetting his lips as he took a few steps back, slowly beginning to make his retreat. "See you then."

As he spun around, making his exit, your mind followed suit, a whirlwind of emotions from this entire encounter. Only Mattheo Riddle could master the art of rendering you utterly anxious, furious, emotional, aroused, terrified, and, finally, relieved--all within the span of under an hour. You'd never encountered a man who expertly navigated every one of your buttons and boundaries like he did, yet you couldn't deny the potent influence he held over you.

You couldn't deny that as soon as he left, an insatiable longing for his presence consumed you, an undeniable yearning for his return.

—————————

Chapter 25->

1K notes · View notes

nouvxllev · 3 months

Text

be my baby, t.r.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you show your love for jenna in your own way

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: fluff hooray!

a/n: heard this line from my headphones while i was scanning my notes and immediately went for my drafts. just a drabble if you may

masterlist.

When people think of a sacred place, they'd think of something related to religion of some sort. A place of worship and compassion to another, maybe a deity. Or they'd think of something they cherished, the place that they hope one day see in their life after death and see the wonderful memories they'd have.

You were none of the ordinary.

Your sacred place was Jenna. Her soul was everything you wanted. She was everything you needed.

Everyday, she would see through you. Your pride, your anger, your selfishness, and how she accepts you for who you are even for your flaws. How your happiness often shined so bright whenever you were with her. How the stars would shine just for her to be in the spotlight, be the center of everything. Oh, how you were so devoted to her was something beyond you.

Hence why your favorite time of the day is waking up beside her, sliding your arm in between her body, and hugging her as if she were being taken away from you if not for your arms grounding her.

You shifted your weight towards her, your legs going in between hers as you hugged her even tighter. She always smelled like home and the subtle scent of her favorite perfume with a hint of yours, you noticed.

The faint music from Jenna's headphones filled the air, feeling your eyes slowly getting heavy as you nudged your head onto her nape, closing your eyes in full bliss but never slept.

Ever since you moved to her apartment, you saw how Jenna always slept with headphones on, only for it to be way too tangled and off her ears when she wakes up.

Your hands found Jenna's, intertwining them as you looked over her shoulder, the action being reciprocated when you felt her fingers close around your hand. Even when she was asleep, she always held you back as if you were a distant star coming to earth.

The morning sun always complimented Jenna so well, the warmth of the sun casting a gentle glow on her features, how her brown eyes are all what you wish to see, showing you everything there is to true beauty. It is as if she was another celestial object far from a mere mortal with how your world orbited around her very being, how effortlessly she could make every living and dying poet forever ink her name in their pages.

You were about to fall asleep until you heard a quiet groan and her body stirring awake. As Jenna shifted beside you, your arms were still wrapped around her body, loosening as she turned to face you.

"Hey." She whispered. Her fingers tracing patterns across your own hand as she blinked away her drowsiness, a loopy smile gracing her lips. "I thought you'd be up by now."

"I am." You gave her a soft smile while she gave you an unimpressed look, but her smile never wavered.

"I meant off the bed and do whatever you normally do."

"You know I'll always wait for you," you replied in a hushed tone, your hand coming close to her face as you brushed a stray strand of hair away, your thumb gently caressing her freckles.

"I know," she whispered as she nodded, her morning voice always something so familiar to you. "Just thought you'd have a change of heart."

"I'd be a fool to." You met Jenna's eyes with a smile, your gaze going back and forth from her eyes to her lips. Your hand resting on her face traveled to her back, pulling her in closer.

Jenna let out a soft sigh, "Aren't you the smooth talker," she murmured. Her hand finding its way to your cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring as your heart swelled with the sight and love that was Jenna.

You raised your eyebrow, "I'm serious about it."

Jenna laughed. She laughed. Oh, how it made your heart instantly recognize the pattern of her laughter.

"I can tell, don't worry." She said, looking into your eyes with the same expression you had. It was a small gesture, waiting for your lover to wake up in the morning, but it was everything to you. And maybe even to Jenna if not a lot more. She leaned in, pecking you on the lips, "And I love you for it."

You can feel your eyes soften, the subtle rise and fall of Jenna's chest against yours as the warmth of her hand rests on your cheek.

You allowed your eyes to drop down to her lips before leaning in and planting a gentle kiss to her soft lips. The very faint scent of her chapstick from yesterday still lingered as you held Jenna's hand on your face, tracing her knuckles with your thumb.

You pulled away before leaning in and placing another kiss to her lips. "I love you too."

Your hand pulled hers away from your face, intertwining them before kissing her yet again. "I love you more."

"I love you most." You whispered softly as your mind captured the look on Jenna's face that was adorned with pure love. Both of your hands reached to cup her face, kissing her once more, feeling the warmth of her breath against yours.

You can feel Jenna smile against your lips, the gesture driving you to insanity with devotion for this girl.

The both of you pulled away from the kiss, your eyes meeting Jenna's as your heart raptured with laughter as she laughed alongside it. The sound itself making you want to record it deep inside your soul forever.

"What was that about?" She chuckled.

"For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three. The Ronettes." You quoted, a smirk gracing your lips as the faint sounds of her playlist started to play all over again.

Ever since Jenna introduced you to her music taste, you were blasting it non-stop. Though it wasn't exactly the music Jenna would listen to, it was like the one of the many music that you found in her taste in genre and you loved it as much as you loved her presence.

"You liked it?" She mumbled, a hopeful tune in her voice. Another thing you noticed about Jenna is that she loved recommending her own interests to other people and you came to adore that so much.

"Who am I to deny my talented girlfriend with her music taste?"

She chuckled, sitting up straight as she pulled you up towards her, wrapping her arms around your body. "Flattery gets you nowhere."

"Then how come I'm right here in your arms?" You looked up at her, a small smile playing on your lips that seemed to never go away whenever you were with her.

"I don't know," she shrugged nonchalantly, "you tell me."

Jenna's arms around you felt like home, a sacred place you'd always come here after a day or even a decade. It was a place where you belonged to, the embrace that would last along with the faint music that was still playing in the background. In her arms, peace is never a fleeting moment but rather something that'll always keep your heart warm.

Another thing is for sure: you were her one and only, and you'd adore her till eternity.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: feel like im slowly getting the motivation to write more

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

607 notes · View notes

angelicyoongie · 3 months

Text

lovesick (XIII)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous - Next

You flip to another page in Jungkook's textbook. You absentmindedly worry your bottom lip between your teeth, concentration high, as you look for any information that might be helpful for his assignment.

Despite the pleading look he gave you when he asked for your assistance, you know that he would be able to handle the paper perfectly fine on his own. It feels like another lifetime ago now, but you do remember how quickly he finished up the shared assignment you had in Ms. Eun's class. Jungkook had practically written the whole thing in just a matter of days.

But, even though you know you're not needed, it's still nice to feel included; like you're doing something that matters instead of just wasting away in the cabin. As long as you ignore the crackling fireplace next to you, you can almost imagine that you're back on campus, working with Jungkook in the library like you did back then. You can't even begin to describe how much you miss doing things that aren't just playing house.

The thought makes a burst of irritation flash through you as you turn to another page, causing you to bite down too hard on the soft flesh of your lip.

Jungkook yelps on the other side of the table as he feels the sting, instinctively touching his mouth in an attempt to soothe the pain.

"Y/n, are you okay?" He gives you a worried look.

You release your lip with a soft pop, chuckling awkwardly to hide your souring mood as you say, "Sorry, I think I was concentrating too hard."

Jungkook furrows his brow with a low hum, eyes lingering on your mouth. You feel like you can see the thought that forms on his face, his eyes lighting up as he gets an idea.

"Ah!" He makes a small noise, quickly clambering to his feet, "I think I know something that can help. I'll be right back!"

"Sure," You nod. You plop your head back to rest on the couch behind you, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jungkook hurries to the kitchen.

You let out a soft sigh when he's out of sight, the sounds of him opening and closing different cupboards fading into the background as you stare up at the ceiling. The past week has been weird. You don't want to call it unexpected based on what caused it, but the last seven days have been surprisingly nice at the cabin. The boys have started giving your tight leash some slack, allowing you to stay in a room alone if they need to leave it to grab something. It's not for more than a few minutes at the time but with how they've been constantly watching you for a month, it's been a more than welcome change. They've given you a sliver of trust and you're finding yourself desperate to hold on to it.

You know what the reason behind it is, of course, you'd be a fool not to.

The shift was notable in the air that morning you awkwardly shuffled out of Jimin's room, the back of your neck sore from the hickeys he had proudly decorated your skin with. You felt awfully exposed by the six pairs of eyes that scanned you from top to bottom, burning with jealousy as Jimin came up behind you to plant a wet kiss over one of his marks. Namjoon's eye had twitched as he pulled back, Jimin no doubt sporting a smug smile behind your back.

It had only taken a second before Hoseok had stormed over to wrap you up in a hug, pulling you away from Jimin and over to the rest in the common room. They felt like territorial puppies with the way all of them made sure they got to touch you and hug you as if they were leaving their own marks behind too. As you were passed between arms you kept catching them looking at your neck, their eyes longing. It was only when all the attention started getting a little overwhelming that you ran away to the bathroom, escaping under the guise of needing a shower.

You hadn't had much time to think about what happened with Jimin until you came face to face with yourself in the mirror, the evidence of the night before staring right back at you. Leaning on the sink, you studied how your skin proudly displayed the marks left behind by Jimin's lips, how your eyes held a shine that you hadn't seen in a long while. Your soul and by extension, your body, was glowing in the aftermath of your intimacy with Jimin.

Guilt climbed its way up your throat so fast it made you gag. You knew that spending the night with Jimin – letting him touch you like that – was terrible, that you were letting yourself down by giving in, but even then you couldn't find it in yourself to hate what had happened. You didn't feel disgusted and that in itself made you feel even more ashamed. How could you not feel bad about letting your stalker, one of your kidnappers, get you off like that? How could you like it? You could blame the bond all you wanted but perhaps it was time to face the fact that you were just weak; easily broken by the connection you had always craved.

You rub your forehead with a sigh.

Jungkook is humming a low tune in the kitchen, the sound of crinkling plastic accompanying it as he pours something into a bowl.

You can mull the situation over all you want but you doubt you'll ever get a definitive answer. What you do know is that there is no use denying that your night with Jimin didn't change anything – for them and you. Despite your best efforts, you are starting to grow fond of them and as much as it pains you to admit, you doubt that it'll be the only time you let any of them touch you. Jimin's touch felt right, good, and you're tired of feeling lonely and isolated.

You think the others have noticed your wavering will, their affections increasing in turn. They have slowly been testing your boundaries, stretching them thinner and thinner day by day. You've come to expect the hands that slip under your shirt when someone leans in for a hug, warm fingertips caressing your waist and back as they hold you close. They let their touches linger longer too, gauging how long you'll allow it before you start to grow uncomfortable. Hoseok and Seokjin have taken a particular shine to resting their hand possessively on your thigh whenever they're seated beside you, the placement inching a little higher every time. Even so, there's still some resemblance of respect in their actions, in how they always stop whenever you show signs of discomfort. It's obvious they're impatient to share the same kind of intimacy with you as Jimin did, but they seem to understand that letting you come to them on your own terms is the best option.

You lift your head as Jungkook returns from the kitchen, straightening yourself up as he rounds the table to plop down next to you on the ground.

"Here!" He exclaims as he places a bowl in front of you, filled with a colourful variety of your favourite kind of candy. "I brought the chewy gummies you like! If you chew on those then you won't hurt your lip if you get distracted again."

The unexpectedly sweet gesture sends a rush of warmth through your body, your cheeks heating under Jungkook's adoring gaze. He reaches out, taking your hand in his. A small furrow appears between his brows, his lips pouting slightly as he says, "I saw you spacing out, are you okay?"

"I know you're upset about missing out on so many assignments but you don't have to be! Namjoon hyung has already applied for you to postpone your studies so you won't lose your spot. I'll help you catch up whenever it's time for you to go back, I promise."

You blink, taken aback that Namjoon had the forethought to do so. You figured you must've already been thrown out of your program by now, having missed out on too many important midterms in just your first month here. The fact that they cared enough about the after to do this for you, does give you a glimmer of hope that you will get out of this cabin at some point, that you will be able to rejoin society in some capacity once they deem you ready – broken – enough.

Jungkook has such an earnest expression on his face, like he genuinely believes they've done you a favour as he says, "Hoseok hyung even quit your job for you! You don't have to worry about anything, Y/n, we have it all under control."

They have it under control. The reality of the situation feels like a smack to the face. While their intentions may have been pure, at least in some aspects, the truth is that the boys have been slowly cutting off all and any ties you have to your old life. The implication is obvious; when you're allowed to go back, it won't be to anything you know.

"What about my apartment?" You ask.

What about my things? My life?

"We're keeping it for now. It would seem weird if we break the lease early when your friend–" Jungkook cuts himself off with a strangled cough, "I mean, the lease is up in a few months anyway! So Jimin hyung said it's better to just grab the rest of your stuff then."

Your stomach sinks at the off-handed mention of Heejun and Jaemin. They haven't been brought up at all since that night but you can tell it's only a matter of time before you'll have to reach out to them. The frown on Jimin's face seems to grow deeper with every return from his shift. It's obvious your friends have no intention of backing down and that Jimin is reaching the last of his rope trying to fend them off.

You still have no idea how you're going to successfully get Heejun to back off. You know your friends, you know they'll see right through you if you try to convince them that everything is fine, so how in the world are you going to accomplish this? It's not like you can ask any of the boys for help, either. You're in this alone and only you can keep them out of harm's way.

You startle slightly as Jungkook squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your ruminating thoughts.

"Do you know why I'm so close to Dasom noona?"

It takes you a second to realize that Jungkook has jumped to another topic – that he's talking about Ms. Eun. He's not subtle in his attempt to distract you from your troubled mind, but a small part of you appreciates it all the same. You've been thinking about Heejun and Jaemin so much that you feel like you've started to go backward, like the solution is slipping further away with every new idea that strikes you.

"No," You shake your head.

"You know I'm not close with my parents, that they didn't treat me well," Jungkook adverts his gaze down to your joined hands, "They have a lot of money, so my aunt and uncle always bent themselves backward trying to cater to their whims. They were desperate for something extra to fill their pockets with so they didn't care that their joy came from my suffering. I wasn't the son my parents wanted, I c-couldn't be. I wasn't perfect, so in their eyes, I wasn't worth the trouble. My parents' obvious distaste for me painted a target on my back and my family is known for being ruthless when there's something they want."

Jungkook lets out a bitter snort, jaw tense as he soothes his thumb across your knuckles. "The only one that made family gatherings bearable was my oldest cousin – he was too grown to be swayed by my parents. He was the only one that ever cared, the only one that never mocked me for my s-stutter."

The pain in Jungkook's voice is almost tangible. You can't imagine having your entire family turn against you just because of a small speech disorder; just because you're not cookie-cutter perfect. From the small glimpses Jungkook has shared from his past and tidbits of information you've overheard over the past months, you think it's safe to assume that Jungkook is part of the Jeon family – the ones that run the city, pulling strings behind the curtains without ever showing themselves on stage. They're the definition of old money, seemingly satisfied to have complete control over a decently sized city instead of fighting for power in the major ones. You don't doubt they would be willing to cut Jungkook loose if they notice his strings fraying, desperate to uphold their perfect image. It's clear the trauma of it all runs deep for Jungkook, his stutter always becomes more prominent whenever he brings up his past.

"Oh, Jungkook," You murmur, heart squeezing at how such a sweet person could be so horribly mistreated by his own family. It makes sense that Jungkook would latch on to the other boys so firmly, idolize them, if they're one of the few who have given him the love and comfort he never got at home.

Jungkook shifts a little closer at the sound of your voice, subconsciously seeking comfort as he picks at old wounds.

"When my parents finally cut me off and left me to fend for myself, I lived on my cousin's couch for a few months before Seokjin hyung hired me. My cousin had been dating Dasom noona for a little over a year already then, so we had briefly met a few times. I felt terrible for always being in their business but noona said she was always thrilled to see me – that I was like the younger brother she never had," Jungkook smiles softly.

"I moved out as quickly as I could to give them privacy but I never lost touch with them. They're part of the reason I'm able to attend university; they're covering half of my tuition. My cousin held a big speech about how he's investing in the future or something like that, he refused to take no for an answer," He lets out a fond snort, shaking his head. "I really care about them a lot. Hyung and noona are planning on getting married next year, but I hope she keeps her own name. She's too good to be a Jeon."

"They sound like they're pretty great," You murmur.

"They are," Jungkook agrees. His face suddenly brightens up as he seems to recall a particular memory, "I ran into my mom once, after everything that happened. I was out with hyung and noona, and Dasom noona was amazing at telling her all these half-truths that made it seem like I was thriving without my parents. She insulted my mother to her face over and over in the sweetest way possible and I doubt my mom realized what had even happened until she was already on her way home."

"Good," You allow your lips to quirk, "I'm glad she stood up for you."

"Yeah," Jungkook glances up at you, his big doe eyes staring you down for a second before he swallows thickly. His cheeks flush as he quietly admits, "Dasom noona was the first person I told about you. I know I shouldn't have but I didn't know how to approach you, so noona offered to help. She came up with the idea to pair us together for our project when I realized we were taking the same class."

"Please don't think too badly of her, she only wanted to help!" He hurries to add, gripping your hand tightly.

You know Ms. Eun – Dasom – to be impressive just from the many awards and accomplishments she has rightfully displayed around her office. But, listening to Jungkook sing her praises like this, it makes you realize that it takes someone very special to practically adopt your boyfriend's cousin as your own brother and love him as such. It's no wonder they seem so close, why Ms. Eun was so protective of him. Jungkook has a kind heart, she said. Even with his stalker tendencies, you know that to be true.

"Hyung and noona don't know about our.. uhm, c-circumstances, just that we're spending time together to work on our bond. The wedding will be happening in the spring and noona really wants us to come, if you want to. She's very excited to see you again!"

Spring. It's not that far away. Maybe four, five months? You have no idea what the boys have planned for you, but Ms. Eun's wedding might be one of your only chances at seeing people again. If you play your cards right, you might even be able to slip away. Escape.

You try to tamper down the rush of emotion that courses through you, the adrenaline urging you to go go go. Five months is a long time, long enough for you to break, to lose yourself entirely if you're not careful – but also enough to win their full trust.

"I would love to, Jungkookie," You grin, elated that you finally have something to look forward to. A small light at the end of this endless, dark tunnel.

A brilliant smile blooms on Jungkook's face at the use of his nickname, his eyes sparkling like tiny stars. He drops your hand in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. It's comfortable, comforting even, to feel his muscular arms holding you steady, your chin hooked over his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you melt into Jungkook's embrace, hugging him back.

"Thank you, Y/n, that's going to make Dasom noona really happy," Jungkook murmurs. He tucks his face against the side of your neck, inhaling deeply before he sighs and says, "And it makes me very happy too."

You make a non-committal sound in return, stroking his back. It's not the wedding you're excited about but there is no way you're going to tell Jungkook that. You know how devastated he'll be once you run away, so you can spare him the hurt for now.

Jungkook isn't innocent in all of this but he isn't the mastermind behind everything either. His betrayal still stings and you think it always will, but the months you've spent here have slowly been mellowing it out, making it more bearable. Enough that you almost find yourself willing to forget about it.

"Can I ask you something?" Jungkook's voice is soft against your skin.

"Yeah," You say.

"That night with Jimin hyung, did you... did you kiss him? It's okay if you did! I'm just– curious."

The unexpected question gives you a slight pause. You figured Jimin would've told the others everything by now but it appears he hasn't. You're honestly surprised that vague is even a word in Jimin's dictionary.

"No, we didn't kiss."

"That's good. I mean–!" Jungkook pulls back, expression panicked as his gaze flits across your face. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. You're allowed to kiss Jimin hyung or any of the other hyungs if you want, it-it's not my business. Well, it is? But also not!"

"It's okay, Jungkook. What are you trying to say?" You ask, half-amused.

Jungkook shyly ducks his head, palms warm against your middle as he says, "Sorry. What I want to say is; Can I be the first to kiss you? Please? I-I'd really like that."

"Yeah," You breathe, the answer coming a little too easy, a little too quickly, "You can kiss me."

You can perhaps fool yourself into thinking it's all just a means to an end, but the way your heart skips a beat as Jungkook brings a hand up to cup your face, fingers shaking, doesn't lie. You want to kiss him. Perhaps it's your soulbond, perhaps it's just Jungkook, but a part of you likes him. Enough to make your heart flutter whenever he's near.

Jungkook always looks at you so reverently – like you're something precious. Something to be cherished.

You can't help it. You're only human, after all, seeking love and comfort where it's easily available to you.

He wets his lips, nervous, as he slowly begins to lean in. His brown eyes are glued to your mouth, wide and wondrous as if he can't believe that he's allowed to kiss you.

Your eyelids flutter shut as Jungkook thumbs across your cheek, tilting your head just so before he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, warm, and Jungkook's mouth tastes faintly of something sweet. He moves his mouth cautiously against yours, testing the waters for what you'll permit.

There are no sparks that fly when your lips meet, no fireworks that ignite behind your closed eyes – but a steady warmth that slowly engulfs you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It feels like part of you is coming home, like an important piece is slotting into place. Your head feels light and airy, heart thumping in your chest as if it's trying to reach out for Jungkook.

You clutch the back of his shirt, leaning into the kiss to deepen it. Jungkook lets out a soft whimper when you part your mouth, your tongue teasing at his bottom lip until he lets you in. You're not sure if it's Jungkook's breaths or yours that are shaky when you slip inside, your tongue brushing just the faintest touch against his.

"Y/n," Jungkook suddenly pulls back with a gasp.

You open your eyes to find Jungkook's screwed shut as if he's in pain, cheeks flushed as he quickly retreats his hands into his lap.

"Are you okay?" You hesitate to reach out to touch him again, having yanked them away at the sound of his gasp. You tentatively settle a hand on Jungkook's knee, seeing his nose scrunch as he lets out a labored breath.

"I'm fine," Jungkook awkwardly shifts away from your touch, his hands moving just enough to expose the bulge straining against his jeans.

"Oh," You clear your throat, heat rushing up the back of your neck. You barely kissed and Jungkook is this affected by it?

"Have you not?–"

"No. I've been with people before, it's j-just–" Jungkook shakes his head, biting his lip in embarrassment at having to clarify that he's not a blushing virgin, it's just that, "It's not the same. Everything feels more when it's with you."

"Jungkook," You breathe, a little stricken at the confession. It's hard for you to fathom that your kiss was that special. You don't feel the bond in the same way as they do, your feelings dulled by six other souls pulling you in their direction. For the first time since all of this started, you almost feel bad for them. You can almost understand their desperation in wanting to share something with you, even if they know you'll never fully feel the same way as they do.

"Please, um– Just excuse me for a minute? I-I need to go deal with this," Jungkook seems too lost in his embarrassment to have picked up on your mood shift. His eyes stay glued to the floor as he jumps up, hands awkwardly covering his crotch as he hurries to the bathroom.

You slump back down against the couch, dragging a hand over your face. You slow as you reach your mouth, lips tingling as you press on the soft flesh. You shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have let Jimin touch you either. But it's too late to change any of it. And the matter of the fact is that you wanted it – them. It's exhausting having to war with yourself over every single decision you make, especially when you know that your control over them is very limited. You're only trying to make the best out of your situation, to keep everyone you love safe. Perhaps losing yourself in the process isn't the worst sacrifice.

You reach out for the gummies Jungkook left with a shake of your head, unwrapping one and popping it into your mouth. A sour-y-sweet filling is released as you bite into it, coating your tongue as you mindlessly chew on the candy. You swear you have tasted that slight strawberry flavour somewhere else, somewhere more recently. It's not until the gummy is gone and you swipe your tongue over your lips to catch the last of the sticky filling that it hits you.

Of course.

You throw your head back with a groan, muttering a curse under your breath.

It tastes like Jungkook.

The air in the common room feels suffocating. It's only a few days after your talk, and kiss, with Jungkook that you find yourself here; sitting on the couch in the middle of Seokjin and Taehyung, the rest spread out in a janky circle around the coffee table. Your gaze finds Jimin's as he steps forward, his expression carefully blank as he places your phone down in front of you. Your fingers twitch in your lap, itching to grasp onto the freedom that is now so close, yet so far away.

Seokjin seems to mistake the motion for nerves as he gently takes one of your hands in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "It's going to be okay," He murmurs, mindful of the tense atmosphere.

They're all here to oversee your call to Heejun, to make sure you don't attempt to drop any hints of what's really going on. It's obvious that they don't like Jimin's idea, that they're scared of something going wrong, but it's the best option you have. Heejun will never stop looking for you unless you give him a reason to do so. This is easier for all of you and less messy. The boys will finally get rid of the one person that's trying to ruin their plans and you won't have to live with your friend's murder on your conscience. It's a fucked up, terrible, win-win.

"Whenever you're ready," Namjoon nods.

You reach out for your phone with a trembling hand, picking it up. It feels almost foreign to hold a phone after so long, your fingers clumsy as you type in your password. You balance it on your knee, your other hand still occupied by Seokjin. His grip is tight, tense, like he's hoping it'll prevent you from doing something stupid.

You brush your finger across the screen, aiming for the phone but the slight shake to it makes you accidentally touch your texts instead. Your stomach drops as you quickly scan down the list of unanswered messages; Heejun and Jaemin have sent you the most, but your friends at work are a close second. You can see that the last text in the group chat with your parents is from you – the message only a few days old. You're certain Namjoon is the one behind it.

You swallow thickly, heart aching, as you swipe out of the app. You miss your parents and your friends something terribly, but all of this is for them. You're the only one that can keep them safe.

You quickly switch over to your calls, thumb hovering over Heejun's name and the hundreds of missed calls next to it. Jaemin has placed nearly as many, as if Heejun figured you might pick up his boyfriend's calls instead of his. It's such a Heejun thing to do that it makes your chest tighten.

"Go on, angel," Seokjin says, squeezing your hand.

You suck in a deep breath as you tap his contact, quickly putting the call on speakerphone. Part of you hopes he won't pick up, that perhaps it'll spare your heart some pain if you don't hear his, but the much bigger part of you prays that he will. You need to hear that he's okay.

As the loud rings echo in the quiet cabin, your hands begin to clam up, your heart thumping harshly against your chest. It rings once, twice–

Heejun picks up, sounding breathless as he says, "Y/n?"

The sound of his voice wraps you in a chokehold. The glass walls you've built around yourself in an attempt to pretend that everything is fine come tumbling down in an instant, shattering into the silence.

"It's me," You rasp.

"Y/n, gods! What happened? Are you okay? Where are you, we've been worried sick that–" Heejun rambles quickly and the poor service you have out here in the woods struggles to pick up on all of his questions.

You glance up as you notice Jimin shifting on his feet, his previously blank expression growing more and more annoyed with every question Heejun fires off. Not good.

"Heejun," You cut him off, barely more than a whisper, but your best friend goes quiet immediately, "I'm okay."

You hear Heejun let out a rough sigh. He sounds pained as he says, "I don't believe you."

Taehyung's hands curl into fists, vexed that Heejun isn't accepting your story as easily as they had hoped for.

"Trust me," You plead, eyes flickering between Jimin and Taehyung's evident annoyance.

Please trust me, please, please, please.

"How?" Heejun huffs, "You've been gone for months – months! – without a word! The last thing you told me was that your stalker was after you and then you're suddenly gone! Disappeared off the face of the earth. Y/n, please, what's going on?"

"I–" You falter, the explanation you had come up with only hours before stuck in the back of your throat. You don't want to lie. You want Heejun to know – to know that you're not okay, that you don't want to be here, but you can't. You can't and you think lying might tear your heart apart.

There's an ominous silence on the other side of the phone, the line so quiet you're worried he might have ended the call. Heejun's voice is hard, seething, as he finally asks, "Is he there?"

Jungkook straightens up in his chair, doe eyes wide with panic. Seokjin's grip on your hand grows so tight you think he might be cutting your circulation off, the tips of your fingers taking on an ashy tint. Yoongi and Namjoon look like they're two seconds away from jumping over the table to take your phone back, their bodies taut with tension as they stare you down.

"No," You rush out, clutching your phone as hard as you can. "Heejun, I–I chose to run away." The lie feels like it's flaying your throat open as you force it out.

"Y/n, please–"

"Listen to me," You say, the desperation in your voice catching Heejun's attention, "I ran away because I didn't want you or Jaemin or anyone else to get hurt. This was the best thing I could do. It was the only thing I could do."

You screw your eyes shut, swallowing hard. You know this is the only thing Heejun will believe. There's no way in hell he would ever accept you just growing bored of him or losing interest in your friendship – the only thing that would ever convince him is self-sacrifice. Gods knows you've both done your fair share of that over the years.

Heejun pauses. "But why take so long to reach out to me?"

"I couldn't. Things had to settle down first. I'm so sorry, I wanted to, but–" You cut yourself off, "I'm sorry."

"I don't care about all of that, I just care about you, Y/n. Are you safe?"

Are you?

The cabin is so silent you could hear a pin drop. You seek comfort in the darkness behind your closed lids, biting down on the inside of your cheek so hard you know that it hurts the others. The truth is this; the situation you're in is not safe, but you also know that the boys would never intentionally hurt you. Your bond is too strong to ever allow that to happen. In some ways you are safe, in others, you are not.

You can settle for a half-truth then, just like those Ms. Eun is so good at inventing.

You open your eyes slowly, skin crawling as you stare down at the floor and say, "Yes. I'm safe right now."

".. Okay," Heejun murmurs. You can't quite tell if he believes you or not.

The boys let out a collective sigh of relief, some of the tension draining out of their bodies. You notice Jimin giving you a sign to hurry up out of the corner of your eye, your pulse kicking up speed as you realize your time with Heejun has come to an end.

"I have to go," You choke.

Heejun tries to protest, but you cut him off. The longer the conversation goes on, the higher the risk of him figuring out that something is wrong.

"I'm sorry. I'll call you again later, okay? I promise. Just.. take good care of yourself and Jaemin. I'll come find you when it's time. I miss you," Your voice wavers as your vision grows cloudy, tears blurring your sight.

You don't want to let him go, you don't want this to be the last time you ever hear his voice. You miss him and you're scared. Scared that things will never go back to what they were.

"Miss you too. Please be safe, Y/n. Protect yourself, not us, okay?" Heejun sounds defeated, as sad and broken, as you feel.

I can't promise you that.

"Bye, Heejun," You whisper instead, a half-sob. You hear your own name being murmured back at you as you touch the red button to end the call, the line going dead.

"Was it enough?" You sound feeble even to your own ears.

"I think so. We'll find out soon. As long as your friends don't show up at the station anymore, we should be fine," Jimin says. His mouth is downturned, upset, like he doesn't like seeing you cry.

You can only nod in return, not trusting your voice.

Hoseok steps closer, gently taking the phone out of your trembling hand. He hands it off to Namjoon before he settles his fingers on the top of your head, stroking your hair. He hushes you as the first tear escapes you, voice tender and proud as he says, "You did well, sunshine."

You feel sick. You want to scream and claw at the hands touching you, you want to pull your own treacherous heart from your chest and stomp on it until it stops beating for them and it's yours again. The emotions bubbling up under your skin feel like burning hellfire, scorching your insides. You hate this. You don't want this and yet–

The fire quells as more hands reach out to touch you, to comfort you.

Taehyung pulls you into his lap, rocking you gently as you begin to sob. You should be running away, but instead, you find yourself curling closer to his chest, seeking his warmth. He presses fluttering kisses to your hair, murmuring about how good you are, how perfect, how well they're going to take care of you.

And for the first time since you woke up trapped in the cabin, you actually want to believe him.

Anything to make your reality hurt a little less.

a/n: happy new year!! lovesick is finally back after a few intense months of exams and other happenings. this chapter shed some more light on jungkook's backstory and he even got the first kiss from the mc! the conversation with heejun was the final nail in the coffin so to speak for the mc, so we'll see her being more open to accepting the boys' affection from here on out. the poor girl is starting to get worn down :( the next chapter will be more taegi-focused and the mc will finally learn more about their soulbond!

please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter!! it means so much to me 💖

(and you know the drill, please excuse any mistakes until i have time to go through and edit!)

#yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #yandere hoseok #yandere taehyung #yandere seokjin #yandere yoongi #yandere namjoon

742 notes · View notes

fictionalmenmakemecry · 5 months

Text

One Michelin Star

Character: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: With 'The Bear' finally earning it's first Michelin star, Carmy can't think of any other person he would want to celebrate with, than you. Both of you riding on a high, you help Carmy reach another climax behind closed doors.

Warnings: Filth smut, gagging, cursing, blowjob

A/N Haven't seen much fics when it comes to our poor Carmy receiving pleasure so I thought I would have a whack at it. I want to kinda give this a part two where the reader gets off with Carmy .... but... I don't know yet. Let me know what you think :)

Enjoy!

After a grueling year of raising 'The Bear' from the ground, it happened. Carmy ripped open the letter front of house with Sydney by his side. Richie, Sugar and everyone else watching him with anticipation. Carmy eyes scanned over the first couple of sentences briefly before exhaling.

"We got it"

"Wait.. What?" Sydney ripped the letter out of Carmy's hand.

He was still frozen in place like it hadn't hit him yet.

"Oh my god... We did" Sydney's jaw dropped as her eyes flashed over the first couple of sentences of the letter.

She immediately wraps her arms around Carmy bringing him into a hug forcefully.

"We did it Carm!" She yelled with Carmy finally coming out shock he hugs her back.

"Holy fuckin' shit, let me see" Sydney handed the letter to Richie.

Everyone else huddled around Richie trying to see what was on the page. Tina leaning in closer not being able to see the small print on the page. Ebra looking over Richie shoulder.

"I can't believe it" Sugar gasped

Carmy looked over to see everyone with jumping around like little kids on Christmas day. Marcus put his hands on his green beanie in in disbelief. He could see Sugar's eyes whelm up with tears. Carmy's face stayed in a state of shock. He couldn't believe it actually happened. He never thought he would be able to actually get one.

In that moment, he knew who he had to call. The one person who was putting up with all his shit. The stress he had on his shoulders every night after coming from the restaurant. The distance he put between him and you afraid that he would lash on you if he didn't. He finally was able to breath.

"Baby?" He spoke out with his phone against his ear.

"Hi Carm" You greeted walking home after a long day of work.

"Can you drop by?" He asked trying to control his excitement in his voice.

"Uhh.. sure. Is everything okay?" You asked with a worried tone.

It was rare for Carmy to ever ask you to come to the restaurant as he didn't like you to see him in that environment where he was usual stressed and didn't have anytime to give you his attention.

"Yea, yeah, don't worry" He reassured, continuing to look at everyone celebrating.

"I'll be there in 15" You said turning the direction that would eventually lead to the restaurant.

"See you then" He hummed before hanging up the phone.

He felt Sugar grasp his arm and looked over to see her grinning ear to ear.

"I'm so proud of you" Sugar came over giving him a hug.

"I couldn't have done it without you" He said softly giving her a tight squeeze,

"Did you call her?" She asked, pulling away from the hug.

Carmy nodded excitedly, he was buzzing to tell you. To see the look on your face.

"Dinner is on me tonight!" Richie exclaimed pulling out his phone

"What are we in the mood for?" Richie yelled over the loudly chatter and cheering.

Carmy decided to wait outside the restaurant for you. He wanted to tell you before you saw the massive celebration that was happening inside.

He saw you walking up the street with your usual backpack that you brought to work. Your smile immediately brightening up your face when you saw him in front of you. He walked down the street to meet you halfway and brought you into a hug.

"Oh" you gasped, surprised on how good of a mood he was in compared to the last two months of misery he was in.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling him pick you up into a tighter grip with his built arms making it light work.

"You're in a good mood" You hummed, nuzzling into his neck.

"You know why?" He asked, putting you back down,

You looked into his eyes, and with a huge grin on his face, you knew instantly,

"Don't tell me you got it?" You searched his eyes not believing that it actually happened.

His head nodded subtly with his eyes sparkling with joy.

"Oh my god Carm..... Baby!" You jumped up in excitement, crushing into his chest and knocking him back a few steps with the force of you leaping into his arms.

"I knew you would get it!", you exclaimed tapping your hands onto his chest repeatedly.

He laughed, overloaded with pure happiness that he was able to tell you such good news.

You brought him into another tight hug savoring the euphoria that you were both feeling in your veins. You hugged him tight which he would always counter back with a tighter hug. it would go back and forth until you would eventually tap out due to him nearly squeezing you to death.

You leaned away and looked into his eyes wanting to make sure this was real. That it wasn't all a dream.

"We did it baby" He whispered his pure blue eyes flickering between yours.

"No... You did it. None of this would have happened without" You said softly back.

Carmy could never take a compliment which always lead him to blush. He leaned into you smelling the little bit of perfume that clung onto your neck at the end of the day. Nothing could ruin this moment he was having with you. He dreamt about it over and over imagining what it would feel like but nothing matched to the real thing. He looked at you, seeing how beautiful you were when you smiled. You saw how genuinely happy you were for him. He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to have someone who would put up with all his bullshit.

"I love you so much." You continued to look in his eyes, making sure he knew you meant every word.

"I love you..... completely" He replied leaning his head down bringing you in for a kiss.

You brought your hands up to cup his face feeling his lips gently caress yours. His tongue touched your bottom lip asking for permission into your mouth. You open yours it giving him full access. You turned your head a little, wanting the kiss to deepen, all the while his hands having a firm grip on your waist.

You could feel him pull away which you resisted for a second not wanting to end the kiss and feel your lips get lonely.

"Let's get you inside" He whispers, your noses still touching.

You see his eyes haze over a little from the deep kiss you just shared. He grabbed your hand and you walked back to the restaurant with a tight hold on your hand.

You knew what that meant.

You knew he wanted you.

As you came through the door everyone was scattered around different tables in their groups talking.

"Cousin, what you want to eat?" Richie yelled over sitting at a table on the other side of the room with Tina and Ebra.

"Whatever"

"Hey sweetheart", Richie bringing his attention to you.

You gave a little wave but something else was on your mind. You squeezed your thighs together feeling the heat between them grow.

"Are you sure?" Richie double checked with Carmy looking down at his phone for options.

"Yeah, we're easy" Carmy yelled over, continuing to walk through the front area.

He lead you to the back, and looked back at you, making sure you were both on the same page. He knew the look in your eyes that you were.

As you walked through the doorway of the office, Carmy closed it behind you and locked it. You looked down to see the small desk lamp was lighting up the small room. You felt Carmy's hands on your waist and lifted you up onto the desk with ease.

With no time to waste, he enveloped your lips again with his. He brought his hands to your face, and you felt his hunger. Your lips opened up instantly, and his tongue slid in, brushing up against yours. You were able to taste him, which only fueled the heat between your legs. One of his hands dropped, and you felt him spread your legs so he could get in between them. You opened them wide, giving him ample room. He brought his hand down to your ass and pulled you towards him to the edge of the desk.

A moan escaped your mouth as you pressed your heated core to his hardened dick. You wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting him as close as possible with your hands tangling in his hair.

You both pulled a away for a brief moment, your eyes were blown out with lust.

"I- I don't want to wait" Carmy said softly.

"Me neither" You smirked knowing where this was going to lead.

You pushed him back and brought your eyes to the chair behind him.

"Sit" You ordered.

With no hesitation Carmy sat down on the office chair, still looking at you with heavy lids. You dropped down on your knees and unbuckled his belt with the clanking of the metal buckle the only noise in the room.

"You've been working so hard lately.." Your lips pouted out.

Your hands travelled up and down this thighs teasingly

"...I haven't tasted you in so long...." The tone in your voice dripping with arousal.

He nodded obediently not caring if the world was ending around both of you. All he wanted was to feel your mouth on his pulsing dick.

You pulled away his trouser, your eyes landed on his bulging underwear, where you could see a small wet mark of his arousal. You bit your lip anticipating the taste. He raised his hips as your pulled down his underwear and it shifted with the removing of clothes.

His mouth was slightly open waiting for you to take him in. His eyes never leaving your face.

You wrapped your hand around the base and stroke him slowly, bringing your thumb over the head gently to bring some of the precum further down. You saw the adam's apple in his throat move as he tried to swallow a moan that was making it's way out.

You focused on his irregular breathing and leaned down bringing your tongue to his head. You immediately tasted the saltiness travel along your tongue, making you hungry for more.

You swirled your tongue around his tip and looked up to meet his blown out pupils.

He watched you take him in, and when your eyes met, he closed his eyes briefly, focusing on not just letting go right then and there.

You worked your tongue more as you brought him in further and further into your mouth. As it went deeper, it finally reached the back of your throat, forcing a gag from you. Carmy released a low groan, losing control of keeping it in. The sound of your gag filled the silence in the room, only making it harder for Carmy to let go.

His fingers brush your hair to the back of your head. He didn't want to miss any sight of your pretty little face getting corrupted. You continued to look into his eyes, feeling tears whelm up in yours. You started bobbing your head up and down feeling the hollowness of your cheeks as the suction worked it way in your mouth. The sound of your saliva coating him and his breathing hitching every couple of seconds.

Every now and then you would bring him to the back of your throat, making him instinctively pull towards you and earning you a throaty moan from him.

"Uhh s-shittt-" He hissed

His hips would buckle making you swallow more of his length. You could feel your saliva travel its way down from his dick and pooling around the base. The mess you were making only made it harder for him to keep it under wraps.

"Baby...I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that" He said in a low voice trying to keep as quiet as possible.

Without leaving his eyes, you brought him to the back of your throat again but deeper.

At this point, he was unravelling above you, his moans were no longer silent and he would furrow his eyebrows trying to focus on holding it together with his mouth slightly open. One of his hands on the back of your head holding your hair in loose ponytail.

Tears rolled down your cheeks leaving eyeliner smudges behind. Him seeing you in such whoreish state made him that much closer to coming down your throat.

With a pop, you released his dick from your mouth. it glistening with your spit. He pulled his eyes down to your lips, which were red and puffy. This was one of his favorite states to see you in. Your hair tussled, eyes watery and makeup smudged, he couldn't contain himself. He wanted to bend you over that desk and make you beg for him to release in you. But he knew both of you had no chance in keeping quiet. He would want to hear your pleading moans and cries of his name.

"My pretty little whore..... always so hungry" He purred, gently brushing his thumb against your bottom lip.

"Please let me taste you" You pleaded, licking his length from base to tip.

"You want m'cum down your throat?" He asked, his darkened blue eyes looking down at you.

"Please" You wrapped your mouth around him again and watched as his eyes rolled back.

You knew he wasn't going to last. You wanted to feel his warm smooth climax down your throat. You needed to see him lose complete control above you.

You began to bob your head again, slowly building up the pace. His eyes focused on you again. His hips buckling more with you this round. He wasn't able to restrain himself anymore. You felt the grip that he had on your hair get tighter, which only made you more wet.

His breathing became more uneven and labored. You knew he was about to tip over the edge.

"B-baby" He stuttered, his hips starting to tense up with every thrust getting deeper.

Him working further and further to the back of your throat until you started to gag,

"Uhh, f-fuck...I'm cummin'" He inhaled.

"Imma cummin'" He sharply jolted his hips one last time before you felt a continuous stream of cum hit the back of your mouth.

His eyes closed with him riding a wave of pleasure, his jaw clenched, you could look at him like that forever.

You eagerly started swallowing and felt him slowly letting go of your hair and slumping back into the chair.

You licked the tip of his dick clean before popping it out of your mouth and wiping your lips on the back of your hand.

"Fuck, babe... You have no idea how much I needed that" He smiled lazily leaning down to kiss your lips.

You felt his tongue entered your mouth, your pussy pulsing at this point. All you wanted was his tongue, fingers or dick inside of you so you could clamp around something.

"Can we go home?" You asked eagerly, wiggling your hips trying to get any relief.

"Only if you sit on my face when we get there" Carmy smirked, his blue eyes still glazed over with a mixture of post orgasm and arousal.

You wanted to sit on his face right then and there but held yourself back knowing you were not going to stay quiet.

"Deal."

Masterlist to other fics

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmy x reader #chicago #carmen berzatto x you #syd x carmen #carmen berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto smut

404 notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 8 months

Text

Spy x Family Anime (season 1 cour 2) Official Guidebook HD scans - part 1

Back when I first started my blog, I made HD scans of the season 1 cour 1 guidebook, and now I'm back with the same for the cour 2 guidebook! There's a lot more pages I wanted to scan this time, so there will be about six posts in total. I'll try to have a new one roughly once a day!

Click here to go to part 2.

#spy x family #spy family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #bond forger #twiyor #sxf scans #sxf anime #sxf merch

633 notes · View notes

oracle-of-dream · 4 days

Note

Now that I know you write for svt can you please do a dom Mingyu x sub male reader smut with size kink?

I'll do you one better.

Photo Finisher

Minors DNI

Summary: Another day, another dick... A photoshoot for Cosmopolitan rolled your way with a promising model. Seventeen's largest member, Mingyu, asked for you by name...

Warnings: (Not Proofread) Male Reader, Size Kink, Massive Cock Mingyu, Creampie, Cockwarming, Carry/Lifting Sex, Struggles of fat cocks, Daddy nickname, Mention of blood (not related to sex), Cursing, Painful sex

Wordcount: 2k

Images flicked by as you tossed through the pages of recent issues of Cosmopolitan magazine. You could tell the photos were taken by professionals but lacked that glow that you enjoyed in your pictures. It just wasn't the same without it. You'd been commissioned by the magazine's owner to take photos for their next cover, apparently, their model asked for you specifically but withheld their identity from you.

Irritated, you walked into the studio, looking around for who your mystery client was. They have some nerve to call for you and not even give you a name. How the hell were you supposed to start and pre-work without knowing your client or studying other photos of them?

Your manager approached you, seeing your expression. "Y/n, I know you're not in the best of moods but let's not do anything to get us fired."

"Fired?" You raised your eyebrow. "Whoever this means so much to the company, I could get fired!?"

"No–" You ignored your manager's horrible attempt at recovery as you marched over to the dressing room door. He stepped in the way, blocking you from entering. "Just promise there won't be any blood to clean!"

"I'll make sure the bleeding will be internal. If you don't move, it'll be you internally bleeding."

They sheepishly moved aside, granting you access. You threw open the door to see a man with bronze skin, broad shoulders, and a military cut. He turned to you with a big smile. "Hello! You must be my photographer. I'm Mingyu, from Seventeen."

"Hi, Mingyu." You slowly entered the room, only the sound of your shoes clicking on the floor. "Why did you hide your name from me in the beginning?"

"I thought you might say no if you knew who I was... I've heard you're very picky with clients." Mingyu's head lowered like a puppy. "I hope that's not too much to ask."

You rolled your eyes. For someone so big, he was so docile... "Don't do that again. It's impolite." He nodded diligently. You sized him up; He was much taller than you, with a bicep the size of your head, and his chest bulged in the button-up he was wearing–the button held on for life. "Let's try and start again. I'm Y/n, and I'll be your photographer."

"I'm Mingyu, from Seventeen. It's nice to meet you." Mingyu stretched out a massive hand to shake yours, which made you feel small as he enclosed it in the handshake.

"Now we're acquaintances. Do you have any questions about my process?" You crossed your arms, trying to appear larger but it was useless against the mountain before you. Mingyu shifted his weight, looking around at the other staff in the dressing room. You scoffed, "Can we have the room please?" The makeup and clothing staff rushed out, relieved to get away from you. "Your questions. Speak."

Mingyu shifted awkwardly again before opening his mouth, "I-I didn't expect you to be so forward about things. I just want to look as good as possible, and you're very talented. So, I'd like to ask for whatever treatment is necessary."

It sounded like he practiced this speech a few times before speaking it. You smirked at the thought of him nervously practicing for you. "Sure. Do you know what you want?"

"W-What I want?"

"Yes. You've got to have something, right?"

"What can I ask for?"

"Nothing too physically damaging, I still need to work. But I want what you want, so tell me what you like about me."

Mingyu's eyes scanned you, as he'd been doing since you'd walked in. He honed in on your waist. "I wanna hold you."

"Okay, that's simple." You kicked off your shoes and waited for his embrace. When Mingyu lifted you off the ground by your waist, you gripped his arms for balance.

"Is this okay?"

"Fine. Just wasn't expecting to come off the ground..." You were level with his face now, about to admire his features much closer. His attached earlobes made his whole ear look larger cutely rounding out his face. But his sharp cheekbones and facial lines made him look more like a man–as well as his impressive figure.

"You're so... small." You'd never been called small before. The way Mingyu experimentally squeezed your sides forced a moan from you. "And you're voice is so... cute." Mingyu pulled you into him, holding you to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat racing.

"You're so excited already?"

"Maybe... I've got a thing for small things." He smirked at you, looking down at you. "When do we... do more?"

"Whenever you're ready. I've already prepared myself, but you may break me anyway..."

"I'm not a kid. I try not to break my toys," Mingyu's low voice rumbled in his chest as he lifted you to his lips easily. His lips engulfed yours as he shifted his arms to your legs, making you wrap around him. Even his tongue was thick when it forced past your lips. You twitched wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Mingyu walked you to a chair, sitting down while setting you in his lap. "Come on, Mr. Photographer. Show me more." The smugness in his voice was completely different from the shy man you were talking to moments ago. You tried to lift your shirt over your head but Mingyu stopped you. "I want to fuck you in your clothes..."

"Fine. That's easier for me, but try not to mess your clothes up."

"I'll have to cum in you to not make a mess."

"Is that you trying to ask or are you telling me?"

"Depends on which one lets me cream you."

"Both do." You giggled as you slid your pants down enough for your ass to hang out.

Mingyu lifted you onto your knees, balancing you on his lap, to smack your ass a few times. One hand focused on kneading your ass while the other unbuttoned Mingyu's pants. Your hands on his massive shoulders, looking so small, Mingyu loved every second of watching you shake over him. When he managed to unleash his cock, he smiled up at you, "You wanna look first?"

You took a glance over your shoulder. It was at least ten inches. Probably–Definitely more. "That's going in me? You'll kill someone with that one day."

"No one's died yet."

"How do you want me?"

"You're gonna ride it."

You scoffed, "Are you serious? How could I lower myself onto that?"

"I'll help you. Don't worry, Daddy's got you." He winked.

"Fuck you." Your tongue poked your cheek as you reached down to line yourself with his cock. Mingyu's hands gripped your waist, their warms making your skin tingle. He held you tightly, ready to control how much cock you'd get at any time. "Just don't slam me down. I'd like to be able to walk for the rest of today."

"I thought I was supposed to get what I like."

"And I said no physical harm."

He nodded. "Of course. You're the boss."

"Sure, Daddy," You said as you slid onto his tip. It was so thick that your hole was already stretching more than you prepared yourself for. "Jesus," You whispered, trying to keep yourself stable on his shoulders.

"Leave on me as much as you need. Take your time, it's no rush."

"Don't piss me off," You grunted through gritted teeth. You were taking your time, but it just kept going. Every time you sank an inch, you used your hand to feel how much was left to go–and it always felt like you hadn't made any progress. "You fat cock, fucker."

"Are you cursing at me?" Mingyu raised an eyebrow.

"No, I was just–Holy fuck!" Mingyu pushed you down onto him, more than you were ready for. "What the fuck!?"

"Don't curse at me. I told you to take all the time you needed, and you're not listening. That's not my fault." You took deep breaths through your nose to keep yourself from crying. The pain raked through your whole body as your hole was still so tight it could barely stretch for Mingyu.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to curse."

"That's better. Now, let me help you." Mingyu lifted you, making your eyes roll as your guts moved back into place. Then he lowered you back down, making your nails dig into his shoulders. "That's it, squeeze as hard as you like. I've got you." Mingyu's words were soft-spoken and light as he moved you like a weight at the gym. At every down, he made you take more of him. He continued this pattern until you sat completely on his lap, his entire cock somehow buried inside you. Your mouth hung open but no sound could describe the full feeling you were experiencing. You'd had so many types of cocks, but one like this was different. He was a monster and he was balls deep inside you. "I don't think you can move, so I'll do it for you then." Mingyu used you, like a fleshlight, holding you tighter as he lifted his hips into you.

Your mouth overflowed with drool, dripping down onto your chest. Mingyu leaned forward and licked it up. "Such a mess slut, aren't you? You just use your job to get free cock from idols. Is the 'glow' thing even real, or do you just like getting stuffed?"

As much as you wanted to argue, your brain was full of static. You couldn't work your mouth right, only shallow gasps and soft moans spilled out.

"Let's end this now, we've still got work to do," Mingyu grunted as he stood, carrying you with him. He loosened his grip on you to let you slide until you were perpendicular to his torso. Your legs on his shoulders, his hands supporting your back and waist, and his cock pointing straight inside you. "Try not to scream. And don't bother holding your orgasm back. It's better to watch you cum all over yourself." Mingyu thrust once, forcing a loud moan out of you as your eyes rolled.

You had to focus on not letting your head dangle or you'd choke on your own tongue. But it was pretty difficult with the way you were pushed by each thrust and pulled back in with the momentum of your body. Mingyu moved at a moderate pace, but the strength behind each thrust made it feel like he was drilling you. You were being forced over the edge at 100 MPH.

"Please, cum... fast," You begged.

"For you cutie, I'll do just that. But, it'll be tough, so try not to bite your tongue off." Mingyu smiled as he cocked his hips back further and hit you with the same speed and power, but making more of his dick move. It was enough to instantly force you to cum, making a mess as ropes of cum shot all over your shirt. Your tightening hole made it harder for Mingyu to keep himself together as he went to town on you. His thrust had a moan behind it as his sweat dripped onto your body. "I'm gonna cum–come 'ere," Mingyu pulled you up as he hugged you tightly, fucking you through his high. The way his cock bulged with each wave of cum that passed through his cock was devilish. His whole body was made for fucking and it took you so long to realize it.

When you gained enough sanity to register the rest of the room around you, Mingyu was sitting back in the chair holding you as you laid on top of him–his cock still inside you.

"We've gotta work," You groaned as you tried to climb off. But Mingyu's grip on your body was so tight that you couldn't move.

"Five more minutes. Then work."

Mingyu held you hostage for almost fifteen minutes before you convinced him to let you go. You had to have an intern wheel you around in a chair to get your photos, but you still got them... All while Mingyu had that dumb smirk on his face, as he stared at you through the lens.

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #x male reader #kpop male reader #x male smut #x reader #mingyu #svt #svt x reader #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader

187 notes · View notes

aetheternity · 1 year

Text

Pov: they catch you reading explicit content (6reeze)

A/N: I decided this is an in universe fic. Don't really need a synopsis because the title tells you exactly what it's about.

CW: Description of adult content, For some of the boys it's clearly stated romantic relationship while the others are more unclear. You can read them all as romantic or none.

Aether ~ You don't even bother to look up as you know it's Aether approaching you as you traverse through your favorite book on his couch. You can tell he's reading when you start to feel his breath against your shoulder and neck.

"Nosy." You mutter, smiling at his breathy chuckle.

You turn the page and not even two minutes later hear a loud gasp. You turn your head a brief giggle falling off your lips.

"What?"

"Name, you're reading a dirty book.." He teases "I thought you were so innocent too but here you are in my teapot reading about someone being ravaged." He held a hand over his chest, keeping the act going with fast paced blinks in between. Mouth wide as he continued to stare at the pages.

"You were reading along with me so you're not exactly innocent!" You bite back though you can feel embarrassment settling beneath your skin as your hands begin to sweat, face slowly burning.

"Nope, I'm an innocent bystander who didn't know what he was getting into." He playfully scoffs. You pretend to fixate back on your book turning away from him. Though it quickly feels near impossible as his mouth inches closer and closer to your neck. His breath fluttering over the skin somehow so much hotter than it had been previously.

"Do you ever imagine it's you in that situation then?" The question made you flinch. "You being the one ravaged by someone?" He giggles quickly after. Giggles like it's the most normal question one could ask.

"Idiot." You huff though it barely has bite. Your grip on the book tightens but while your eyes are scanning over the words you aren't even close to internalizing any of them. Not with Aether's breath tickling your ear lobe soon replaced by his tongue flush against your ear canal.

You squeak and the book almost flies across the room. "Put it down already." He grumbles kissing the shell of your ear. "Don't you wanna live like the protagonists in your dirty novel?"

Heizou ~ The two of you are the only two left at the station this late at night so when he sees your eyes sifting quickly through the words of he book he's intrigued. None of the case files on his desk had ever been nearly as intriguing as you.

"What have you got there?" He asks as he approaches

You shift your gaze to him for a brief moment before you head resumes being buried in the words on the page. "Just a novel."

"Hmm." He slides in place behind your chair, skimming along with you. You try to turn the page but he stops you. "I'm not quite finis.. oh.." He chuckles

"Let me read in peace!" You huff "Boss has been busting my ass all day. I need this."

He laughs, "You're reading something like this at the office?" He slides into place beside you on your chair. "You're not even the least bit worried I'll tell?"

"Can't exactly read it at home. I have a nosy roommate." You mutter "Pft, you're loving this too much. You're not going to tell anyone because you're too interested in how long I've been reading stuff like this."

"Ah you so get me." He chuckles sliding closer to you if that were even possible, glancing at the pages as you read. "So?"

"For as long as I've been legally allowed to buy these books."

"Hmm."

"Not going to make a big deal of it? Gasp in horror because I 'look so innocent?'" You question peering over at him.

He yawned, leaning his head against your shoulder. "It's as they say." His breath brushes over your ear canal. "It's always the quiet ones." He whispers and you can feel your skin grow hot at how close his mouth was to your ear.

You almost ask him about the paperwork he'd abandoned but you can already hear his breath even out. Small snores fluttering off his lips. He was Heizou after all. He'd most likely be fine.

Kazuha ~ Yeah.. he's not surprised in the slightest or perhaps it's simply because Kazuha's a roll with the punches kind of guy.

He takes a look at the cover of your book and a small smile forms against his lips. "Oh is that, Beauty and all things?"

You snap your head up, "You know this book?"

"A couple of women and men amongst Beidou's crew have been conversing over this novel. I was hoping to see what all the fuss is about."

You slide over patting the empty space on the crate you were resting on, "You can read along a bit. Don't worry I'm not that far in."

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting?" He questions but he does take the spot next to you.

You politely shake your head, "I wouldn't have invited you to sit if you were." You reposition to allow him to keep up with you.

"Thank you." He replies

You wait for his cues to flip the page. Normally a small tap at your thigh or a brief ok but after a while they stop coming.

"Kazuha? Is it ok for me to go to the next page?" He doesn't answer. You flip your head around pleasantly surprised by the soft pink tint of his cheeks and the way his eyes were slightly blown. His hand atop his mouth. "Kazuha?" You blink

"I didn't.. didn't realize it was a more explicit read.." He calmed enough to make eye contact with the clouds above. "Though that makes a fair bit more sense."

"Sorry Kazu, I thought you knew.. Have you never read anything like this before?"

He hangs his head a bit, fingering the bandages on his hands. "It's not the book.. persay.." He clears his throat. "Actually.. it's being with you.. while reading said book.."

"Oh.." Your blood might as well have drained out through your feet with how weightless you felt. "Oh." You repeated and then immediately yanked your head away. Breath catching, you slammed the book shut trying your hardest to think of any words aside from 'oh'

"Name.."

"Yeah?" You refuse to look at him.

"Would you like to accompany me to dinner once we dock?"

"Yes.."

"Ok.. thank you.." You feel his weight lift from beside you and when you finally got the courage to look up he was nowhere in sight.

Scaramouche ~ He'd just walked in and wordlessly laid his head on your shoulder. Well.. "laid" more like slammed his head into your shoulder without warning. Luckily he wasn't wearing his gigantic hat or it would've been worse.

You're quickly under the assumption that he's fallen asleep based on the slowing of his breaths and how quiet he was. You flipped the page becoming so drawn into the changing events that you nearly leap out of your skin at Scara's-

"What the fuck?"

"How long have you been awake?!"

"What the fuck are you reading??" He sits up pulling the cover over your finger so he could read the title. "How did they go from eating dinner to her tied to the bed post?" He looks at you in sheer disbelief. Mouth hung open and eyes narrowed.

A couple different explanations start to cloud your brain but when you open your mouth the only sound that exits is a long snort. Your breaths uneven as you roll with laughter. Sliding your hand out to keep yourself from falling off the ottoman.

"You're such a freaky weirdo." He stands and you almost get a word out but just end up squeaking and holding your stomach. Your feet slapping against the floor, the book soon flopping onto the hardwood next to you. "Absolute weirdo.." Scara huffs shaking his head, leaving you and your sobbing ribs alone.

"Scara.. pfft.. I can explain.." You call after him.

Venti ~ "What are you reading?"

You feel your skin melt as you look up from your comfortable sitting position on the grass. Up to Venti's softly smiling face. He tilts his head a bit still waiting for you to respond but in all honesty the only thing you can do is silently clamp and unclamp your jaw open and close.

"Oh, a secret then? Fine don't tell me." He slowly tiptoes his way to your side trying his hardest to glimpse the pages but you're watching him through the corners of your eye. Eventually he ends up on your opposite side diving to see when you remove your hand, like some kind of bird of prey.

"Venti!" You hiss. Turning the book over to the back thankful for the wordless back cover.

"Is it that bad? Is it a paranoia ridden post apocalypse? Or a horror suspense with a horrendous real life history that the author took inspiration from?" He crosses his arms still stood behind you.

You simply sigh staring down at the crinkled pages from where your finger had creased your bookmarked spot. "Just.. don't laugh at me or anything.." You flip the book open for Venti to read over your shoulder. Pleasantly surprised by how quiet he becomes.

"Oh ho ho." Venti sneers sliding a hand under the words he was currently reading. Probably knowing you'd slam the book closed if he didn't. "So a more explicit read."

Your shock was probably incredibly visible as he plops down at your side. Holding your shoulder for proper balance. "Aww don't be embarrassed, lots of people enjoy books of this nature. This market has a huge following after all."

You feel your face start to heat as you take in just how close he is. His fingers continuing to graze the pages before him. It quickly intrigued you how fast he was sifting through the sentences until a different thought dawned on you.

"Wait.. Venti-"

"Hmm?"

"How do you know these kinds of books have a lot of fans?"

"Ehe hehe, so did you happen to get this copy from Lisa or Yae?"

Xiao ~ He sat next to you wordlessly chomping down a bowl of almond tofu while you flipped through the pages of your book. When you'd peered up at him he appeared to be lost in thought. Eyes trained off the balcony to the surrounding area, lost in the beauty of it all.

You carefully flipped the page beginning to get enthralled with the scene playing out in your head as words from the page filled your mind. Until-

"Why are you smiling like that?"

You wrenched your head up. Staring back at a very puzzled Xiao, "Ah.. this book.. it's interesting.." You explain blinking rapidly.

"What are the contents?"

A part of you wants to know exactly when Xiao had stopped paying attention to the view and started paying attention to you. Another was skimming through ways to distract Xiao from learning about the book you'd been rereading. It was Xiao after all.. surely he'd find this kind of content disgusting and deplorable. Actually was it even ok to show him something like this? He was an adeptus, was there some kind of secret law that stated showing books like these to adepti could have you murdered at the stake?

"Name?"

Inevitably you couldn't think of anything strong enough to take his mind off your book. Well.. anything strong enough that wouldn't also make him never speak to you again. You slide the book towards him with the page you'd been reading open for his perusal.

He sifts through the content for a brief second and you slowly watch as his face turns a deeper shade of red with each passing second. He sucks in a breath and before you can break the silence he asks, "You.. do you read these often?.." He coughs like he's clearing his throat.

"Yeah.. every now and then.."

"Hmm." He doesn't say much else for the rest of the night or even to you the next day when he leaves for patrol. For a brief moment you're worried he's still extremely uncomfortable over your reading choices.

You head out for the day as well doing your normal errands and while you're on your way back the thoughts about his face and how flushed he'd been started to dawn on you again. He didn't seem uneasy because of you, just the content itself.. maybe it had been a bad idea to show that kind of content to him. He'd probably never seen anything like that before either.

You let out a little sigh, you'd reached a conclusion as you climbed into the elevator. You could easily just explain everything, maybe even what your enjoyment of the book meant to you and everything should be ok.

You feel a small sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach. Every step up from the lobby heavier than the last. You took a final deep breath as you reached his door, turning the knob and nearly dropping your bags when you walked in. Xiao sat cross-legged atop his normally empty bed, the book you'd been reading yesterday plucked between his fingers. Your stomach quickly settled as you walked your way towards the bed plopping down on the edge, only getting his attention once your weight settled on the firm mattress.

"Your book.. it's.." He grumbles darting his eyes away. You can't help your breathless snicker.

"I assumed you didn't like that I was reading it." Your fingers brushed aside strands of hair from his forehead.

"I have no qualms over your desires to continue indulging in this. I simply wished to better understand."

"Mm but you hate it."

"I do not wish to continue reading it, yes."

#I was trying to make this as unsexual as possible #so Heizou's part is different from what I'd originally wanted to do #6reeze x reader #aether x reader #heizou x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #venti x reader #xiao x reader #aether headcanons #heizou headcanons #kazuha headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #venti headcanons #xiao headcanons

2K notes · View notes

permanentswaps · 3 days

Text

Rings in Rio

Marcelo’s POV:

Under the scorching sun of Rio de Janeiro, I found myself captivated by the pulsating energy of the city. My husband Valentin and I had been dreaming of this vacation for months, longing to escape Brasilia and just hang out by the beach.

As we walked along the ocean, the gentle breeze carried the scent of salt and sunscreen. I held Valentin's hand tight, savoring the warmth of his touch against my skin. I couldn't help but feel thankful to be sharing this moment with someone as amazing as him.

You see, I came out later in life – about a decade ago – when I was in my 40s. It hadn't been an easy journey. But meeting Valentin changed everything. We first crossed paths about five years ago – he was a vibrant 27-year-old then. I still remember the day we met like it was yesterday. I was attending a gallery opening, feeling out of place among the younger crowd, when our eyes met across the room.

Valentin approached me with a smile that lit up his face, his confidence and charm drawing me in immediately. We struck up a conversation that flowed effortlessly, as if we had known each other for years. He was unlike anyone I had ever met – bold, unapologetically himself, and utterly captivating. And from that moment on, we were inseparable.

I'll never forget the day he proposed to me, his eyes shining with excitement as he got down on one knee against the backdrop of a rushing river.

His confidence was magnetic, a trait I wished I possessed. We exchanged vows two years ago, surrounded by friends and family who celebrated our love with us.

But despite the happiness we shared, there were moments when envy crept in. Seeing Valentin so carefree and liberated reminded me of the youth I never had, the years spent hiding my true self from the world. But even in those moments of insecurity, Valentin's love was a constant source of comfort.

As we walked along the beach, we stumbled upon a run down ring kiosk. Intrigued by the display of colorful trinkets, Valentin tugged at my hand excitedly.

"Look at how cool these are, babe," he said, his eyes lighting up. I couldn't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"Ah, you have a nice eye," the shopkeeper remarked, his gaze lingering on the rings in Valentin's outstretched hand. "These ones are actually quite special – they're enchanted."

Valentin's eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned to me. "Did you hear that, Marcelo? Enchanted rings! How cool is that?"

I raised an eyebrow skeptically, exchanging a glance with Valentin. "Enchanted, huh? What kind of enchantment?" I asked.

The shopkeeper chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, you see, these rings have the power to grant the wearer's deepest desires," he explained, his voice low and mysterious. "They can bring love, luck, and even transformation."

Valentin's grin widened, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns etched into the surface of the rings. "That sounds incredible," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you think, Marcelo? Should we get a pair?"

And as I watched him try on one of the rings, the metal glinting in the sunlight, I couldn't help but think about how hot they looked on him.

I hesitated for a moment, but as I looked into Valentin's eyes, I felt a surge of warmth wash over me. "Why not?" I said with a smile, reaching out to take his hand. "It could be fun."

After paying for the rings, the shopkeeper handed us a small book which he said explained the rings’ power.

---

Later that night, back in the comfort of our hotel room, we eagerly opened the small book the shopkeeper had given us. Its weathered pages revealed ancient symbols and cryptic instructions, which seemed more like a page out of a fantasy novel than anything grounded in reality.

"It says here that if we trade the rings – which we've been wearing all day – it will swap us into the other's body," Valentin exclaimed, his eyes alight with excitement as he scanned the text.

I couldn't help but arch an eyebrow skeptically. The idea seemed far-fetched, to say the least. But the thought of slipping into Valentin's skin, of experiencing life from his perspective, was undeniably enticing.

"Wait, we should totally try this, babe," he urged, his enthusiasm infectious.

I hesitated, unsure of what to make of it all. "I don't know, Valentin," I replied, trying to downplay my own excitement. "It's probably just some silly myth."

But Valentin was undeterred. With a confident smirk, he reached for the rings, his fingers brushing against mine. As we exchanged them, a strange sensation washed over me, like a surge of electricity pulsing through my veins.

Before I could react, I felt myself being pulled, as if my very soul was being forced out of my body and into his. The world spun around me, colors swirling into a dizzying blur, until finally, everything came to a halt.

As I blinked away the disorientation, I found myself staring at my old body – now inhabited by Valentin's spirit. My heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, unsure of what this newfound experience would bring.

But amidst the confusion, there was something else stirring within me – a primal, raw desire that I couldn't ignore. Seeing my old body through Valentin's eyes, I couldn't help but feel a surge of attraction towards it. The familiar contours and features that I had grown accustomed to suddenly seemed incredibly alluring.

Valentin, on the other hand, wasted no time in admiring his new form. He approached the mirror with a confident stride, his movements fluid and graceful. As he stood before the mirror, I watched him subtly flex his muscles, the faint ripple of strength beneath his skin, and run his fingers along his jawline, his touch gentle yet possessive.

With a nod towards the door, he turned to me. "Well Valentin, what do you say we go hit the town?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

---

Valentin’s POV:

As Marcelo and I strolled along the sun-drenched beaches of Rio, his hand tightly clasped in mine, I was overcome with gratitude for the man by my side. Marcelo wasn't just my husband; he was my anchor, my sanctuary amidst life's tumultuous waves.

We first met five years ago, an encounter that forever changed my life for the better. Marcelo's presence was like a beacon of warmth and wisdom. Despite the age gap between us, he welcomed me into his heart with a kindness and understanding I had never felt before.

Marcelo often complained about his age, lamenting the passing years and the toll they took on his body. But to me, he was perfect. With his salt-and-pepper hair and chiseled features, he had a timeless charm that I found irresistible. Marcelo took impeccable care of his body, maintaining a level of fitness and vitality that men half his age would envy.

However, while Marcelo exuded a quiet strength and maturity that commanded respect, beneath the surface lay a well of insecurities and doubts. There were moments when his gaze lingered on younger men, a wistful longing flickering in his eyes. When that happened, all I wanted to do was infuse him with the confidence and self-assurance he truly deserved.

That's why when we stumbled upon the rings, I was so happy. The prospect of swapping bodies with Marcelo, even temporarily, could give him the chance to see himself like I saw him – strong, resilient, and sexy as hell.

Exchanging the rings, I couldn't suppress a thrill of excitement. Marcelo's body certainly didn't disappoint; his rugged features and well-defined muscles radiated an undeniable magnetism that was impossible to ignore. I couldn't help but admire the way my new face looked in the mirror, the sharp contours and strong jawline making even Marcelo in my body flustered.

---

We made the decision to remain swapped for the duration of our vacation, and I must admit, I was thoroughly enjoying the experience.

The change in people’s perception was undeniable. While I had always been accustomed to the occasional flirtatious glance and admiring looks when I inhabited my former body – I'll admit, I was quite the catch – the response now was on a whole other level.

Hotel concierges greeted me with deference and respect, always calling me sir. And waitstaff at restaurants fell over themselves to attend to my every need, no doubt aware that I was the one who would be footing the bill.

The intimacy we shared that week was also nothing short of extraordinary. Marcelo's enthusiasm and skill in the bedroom were unmatched, and he was an expert in pleasuring his former body, leaving me breathless and craving more.

He had always been a power bottom, and even in my former body, he wanted to keep it that way. Railing my former body, I was consumed by arousal, the sensation of my cock buried deep within him sending waves of pleasure radiating through every fiber of my being.

But it wasn't just the physical pleasure that fueled my desire; it was the profound sense of control and dominance that I felt, commanding Marcelo's massive body with an authority that bordered on exhilarating.

---

Two nights before our departure, with the gentle glow of moonlight casting a soft sheen over our hotel room, I found myself poring over the pages of the book once more. My fingers traced the intricate patterns etched into the pages, searching for answers, for a solution.

And then, there it was – nestled within the text like a hidden gem waiting to be discovered:

"After transformation, should one be without the rings during the climax of sexual intercourse, the transformation shall be forever sealed."

I glanced over at Marcelo, sleeping peacefully beside me, his features softened in the gentle glow of moonlight. He looked so content, so at peace in my body, unaware of the decision that weighed heavily on my mind. And yet, as I gazed upon him, a sense of clarity washed over me. I reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, before leaning over and kissing it, saying “I love you”.

As I put the book down, a surge of determination swept through me. This was it – my chance to make our swap permanent.

---

Marcelo’s POV:

Laying in bed on our last night in Rio, the cool breeze from the open windows danced across my skin, carrying with it the scent of the sea. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving this vibrant city behind. But at the same time, I couldn't deny that I had enjoyed every moment of our vacation, relishing the opportunity to experience life from Valentin's perspective.

Being in Valentin's body had been nothing short of exhilarating. I felt a newfound sense of youthfulness coursing through my veins, an energy and vitality that I hadn't experienced in years. And the sex – well, let's just say it was beyond amazing. Valentin knew exactly how to work my body, his confidence and expertise leaving me breathless and wanting more.

But amidst the excitement and the pleasure, a question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind. A few days ago, I stumbled upon a passage in the book that would seal me in this body forever. I hadn't told Valentin about it, but the temptation to make our swap permanent was undeniable. It wasn’t fair, but the thought of returning to my old body – to the limitations and insecurities that came with it – filled me with dread.

---

Fiddling with the ring between my fingers, I carefully placed it in the bedside drawer. Just then, the bathroom door swung open, and Valentin emerged, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm halo around him. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he padded towards the bed, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Hey there, handsome," he purred, his voice sending a shiver down my spine. As he slipped under the covers beside me, I couldn't help but marvel at the effortless charm and confidence that radiated from him. I smiled in response, my heart fluttering at the sight of him.

Pressing me down onto the bed and entwining his fingers with mine, Valentin’s strength and dominance overwhelmed me. With each thrust, I lost myself in the raw intensity of our connection. But amidst the haze of pleasure, a realization dawned upon me – Valentin wasn't wearing his ring either.

The revelation sent a jolt of electricity coursing through my veins. Could it be possible he wanted this too? Valentin's lips found their way to my neck, planting tender kisses along my skin. "I love this body so much," he murmured against my skin, his breath warm against my neck. "I don't think I can ever go back."

My heart swelled with a mixture of love and desire, knowing that he cherished my body as much as I cherished his. Smiling softly, I ran my bare hands down his back. "I took off the ring too, babe," I whispered. "I want your body now and forever."

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he met my gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. Without a word, he quickened the pace, driving us both to the brink of ecstasy once more.

As the intensity of our passion peaked, I surrendered myself fully to the moment, losing myself in the raw, unbridled pleasure. With a primal roar, he released his load into me, our souls locking in our new bodies.

Basking in the afterglow, I felt a profound sense of fulfillment wash over me. With Valentin's strong hand tracing lazy patterns across my bare chest, I couldn't help but smile, knowing that this, right here, was all I could have ever asked for.

148 notes · View notes

stormberry-12 · 2 months

Text

faceless // P4: are you ugly? ~ charles leclerc x reader

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!driver!reader

includes/authors notes: language, lack of equal rights/ gender equality, readers an unknown figure in the races, fem!reader's gender assumed as male, use of "y/n".

Bold Italics are the past.

Normal Italics are thoughts.

summary: "There is a new mysterious driver on the grid. Nobody knows who he is, the only thing we know is that he races for Red Bull with the number 66. Other drivers call him the faceless driver for none have ever seen his face or heard him speak. The faceless driver is a legend in the making and even giving Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen a run for their money…”

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat alone in a medical room, sure you had wanted to reveal your identity eventually but this was too much to handle all in one day. You could sense the awkwardness of the doctors who had come to perform tests on you, they were polite but curt. A nice nurse offered you some tissues but no one uttered more than 5 words to you, probably still processing it themselves.

You pulled out your phone, there was no doubt Charles knew, he was out of his car even before you were, probably watching televised on hundreds of screens around him.

He hadn't tried to contact you.

You didn't blame him.

However, you did have hundreds of notifications from other people and F1 Instagram pages tagging your private account and spreading the news worldwide.

A knock on the door frame made you jump, "You're free to go miss, as long as you have no more neck pain."

"Thank you," you replied, not looking the doctor in the eyes, and climbing out of the bed.

"Take the pain meds twice a day, for your wrist and neck, don't over-exert yourself. Have a good day."

'Have a good day.'

You walked out of the medical center with your belongings, walking to the parking lot, not planning on going back to the Red Bull garage. You couldn't care less what Christian thought about this whole thing and would probably receive a very heavily worded email from him later tonight.

The sky was dark, you must have been in there for a while. The lights from the posts shone down on the many expensive cars that the drivers had driven to the race.

Charles's car was gone.

"Fuck me," you cursed, the tears had returned along with shooting pain up the side of your neck. You called an Uber, waiting in the crisp air and wiping the tears off your face. The world seemed wobbly as you scanned your surroundings, letting reality hit harder and harder every time you thought about the day you just had.

You looked across the parking lot to see Yuki getting into his car. He shot you a small smile and wave. "Fuck is a fun word. And you have a cool helmet by the way,"

"YUKIII!" Pierre screamed, running over to the car drawing both of your attention. "I'm driving,"

"No!"

"Yes."

They argued for about 20 seconds before Yuki hopped in the passenger seat. Pierre then noticed you, giving you a thumbs up and a knowing smile before hopping in the car.

God, word spread fast.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

You and Charles settled onto the couch, cozy blankets draped over your laps, snuggled up next to each other. Tonight's choice? The Office. It was a show you both adored, somehow whenever you watched it it always managed to lift your spirit. With a bowl of popcorn between your legs, you hit play, and the familiar theme song filled the room. You nestled into Charles's side, feeling the comforting warmth of his presence.

"Guess what, I have flaws. What are they? Oh, I don't know. I sing in the shower. Sometimes I spend too much time volunteering. Occasionally I'll hit somebody with my car. So sue me." Michael Scott's voice rang from the speakers.

"Oh my god," Charles chuckled. "I can't with this show,"

As the credits rolled, you turned to Charles, a contented smile playing on his lips. "I love nights like this," you whispered.

"Me too," Charles replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Especially when I'm with you."

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

The door to your apartment creaked as you opened it slowly, the hum of the airconditioning filled your ears and and hit you with a cold blast that sent shivers down your spine. You tossed your backpack on the floor and braced yourself for all of the outcomes that could happen next.

'What if he breaks up with me?' Flashed in the back of your mind as one of the possibilities that made your stomach ache. He was sitting on the couch, gaze not leaving the TV, but you could see his shoulders tense as your footsteps entered the room.

"Charles, we need to talk," you said softly, your voice barely audible over the blasting TV and loud voices outside the thin wall.

He ignored you coldly, grabbing his plate off the side table and walking towards the kitchen.

"Oh come on, Charles! Jesus, listen to me, I can explain!" you cried, following him around the apartment until he finally turned to face you, his eyes were broken.

"Explain..."

"Yes-"

"Explain? You've been racing alongside me all this time, pretending to be just another driver, while I've been completely in the dark about who you are! You lied to me!" he spoke, voice cracking and eyes watering.

"Charles I-"

"Like holy shit!" Charles's voice trembled as he continued to word vomit his feelings like he always did. "You were the faceless driver. The one everyone speculated about, and-"

"Charles, I didn't want to lie to you. I just... I never wanted my identity to overshadow my abilities on the track. I wanted to be known for my skill, not my gender or boyfriend's name." You sighed heavily, hands trembling slightly, head pounding.

"You didn't think I deserved to know? We're in a relationship, Y/n. We're supposed to trust each other!" Charles's voice grew louder, his words cutting through the air, making you feel small.

"It was in my contract Charles, I couldn't tell anyone-"

"Why would you sign your life away like that? Red Bull was taking advantage of you but you were too stupid and blinded by all the secrets you had to keep-" he hissed.

"Oh my god! Why are you being such a dick? I came up with half my contract rules, I didn't want to tell anybody!" you held your neck as it ached.

"You told Lando,"

"No, I didn't. I never meant for him to find out!" you yelled, well tried to, as you found it harder and harder to catch your breath. "And do not bring Lando into this, he's your teammate and friend-"

"But he knew before I did! He kept secrets from me too," he complained. "And you had your little waves out on track and everything, don't bring Lando into this my ass. I hate how you realized you could trust him but couldn't think of anyone else in your life that you might be able to trust. Someone who might deserve to know. Was there no one else Y/n? No one else that you spent hours of the day with, that had trusted you with all of his problems? No one that loved you so much and would support you no matter what-"

"Charles-" you choked out, guilt overtaking you.

"This is so wild, I can't believe this day is real," he mumbled and you weren't sure if he was referencing the fact that you were a driver or the fact that you had left him in the dark and damaged the strong relationship you had. Probably both.

You sighed and rubbed a hand over your face, you felt like you were going to puke. You pushed past Charles and shuffled to the bathroom slamming the door behind you. You heard Charles call after you but his words were drowned out by the pounding and ringing in your ears.

As you leaned over the toilet vomiting you felt your hair being pulled away from your face and a hand placed firmly on your back. You knelt there for a while, his fingertips traced up and down your spine until you pulled away to splash your face with water.

You slid back down to the floor leaning against the sink. You hugged your knees to your chest, not wanting to feel the cold tiles on the back of your legs any longer, as your boyfriend sat across from you quietly. Charles hesitated, his eyes locked with yours. The weight of the words you yelled at each other hung heavy in the air. His foot grazed yours softly and you both looked down at your matching socks that you un-intentionally wore on the same day.

"Are you okay?" he whispered.

"Yeah. They told me I didn't have a concussion..."

"That's bullshit. And the wrist?"

You looked down at your bandaged hand, "Sprained."

He hummed in acknowledgment, "They did a shit job at that too, can a re-wrap it for you?"

You nodded and he skooted closer, taking your arm gently in his hands. He unwrapped the tenser bandage around your wrist and you winced, Charles whispered an apology, examining your bruises and swelling.

"Jesus, love," he wrapped the bandage around you once more, neat and tidy, securing it tightly. He looked up meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression, fingers still grazing your bandaged wrist. "Lando had more than one secret he was keeping from me,"

"What?" you croaked.

Charles closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, "He's leaving. His contract was only for a year to try out a new team..."

You stared at Charles in shock before he continued. "He misses Mclaren, and of course Zack misses him. So yeah," Charles laughed but no humor filled his face, "I'll be saying goodbye to yet another awesome teammate that I've considered a brother."

"I'm so sorry Charlie," you whispered, linking your hand with his. You knew how hard it was for him when Carlos left, they didn't speak as much anymore, and you could always see the pain in Charles' eyes whenever Carlos brushed him off with a rushed wave in the paddock.

"God, I've got to stop being so sensitive and annoying," He sighed.

"No, your empathy, understanding, and awareness are some of my favorite things about you," you smiled softly at his blush.

"But I wasn't very understanding to you," he whispered and you felt your heart pinch.

You were about to respond, countering his statement with the truth that you were so terribly sorry and pissed at yourself for everything, when your phone rang pulling you from the moment. Looking down at the screen you stared at Christian Horner's name as it buzzed.

~<>~<>~<>~<>~

#storms library #formula 1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #faceless driver trend #fanfiction

272 notes · View notes

turnersverse · 16 days

Text

with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room.

a/n: this is my first fic and i have no idea what i'm doing so please bear with! please feel free to leave any feedback bc the last time i wrote was over a year ago sooooo ...

you discover alex's true feelings for you after finding his notebook he is always writing in but never shows anyone

friends to lovers, alex and reader have been friends for about 10 years !

you'd been in the studio all day with the band, even though you weren't apart of it you would often help with some of the guitar parts, seeing as you played it yourself. the monkeys already had about 4 songs for their new record, and you had a feeling this album could boost them to worldwide fame.

you were sat next to jamie, who was plucking at random strings on his guitar, his face scrunched up in concentration as he worked out in his brain the arrangement of notes. matt and nick were stood behind alex, who was hunched over his notebook that he wrote anything to do with the monkey's music in.

"al, mate, we need the lyrics. i don't know what i'm doing over here." jamie said, still looking at his guitar.

"just write a riff or something, i dunno." alex mumbled, before adding. "and can you two stop breathing down my neck? all i'm going to be able to write is how nick o'malley's annoyingly hot breath was gliding over the back of my head."

matt and nick just laughed as alex glared at them, nick starting to purposefully blow air at alex.

"right, stop it now." alex frowned, standing up from his seat. "i'm going for a smoke." and with that he left the room.

"he's got loads of songs in that stupid little book, he just doesn't want us to see them. i have a theory that he's just gonna start a solo project." matt said, sitting down on the sofa next to you. nick still hovered by alex's previous seat, looking between the notebook and the other three.

"no, nick, you can't." you said, knowing what nick was planning on doing.

matt caught on quickly, "i mean, it wouldn't hurt. al's not gonna know..."

"yeah but if he doesn't want us to see them, he'll have a good reason for it." you argued. jamie sighed and stood up, walking to the door.

"i'll go speak to him." the guitarist said before leaving the room.

you sat back, more comfortably, on the sofa. "why don't one of you write something? 'r u mine' is fairly based on the drums."

matt just scoffed, "yeah, i'll write summat, and then alex will come up with some lyrics that won't fit it at all." this had happened just the other day with jamie, who had written 'the best riff of his life' (as he'd called it) before alex showed the rest of the band the lyrics to a song he'd called 'mad sounds', which was much slower than what jamie had come up with.

"lets just have a peak.." nick said, inching closer to the notebook.

"nick, no." you said firmly.

"nick, yes!" matt said, a stupid grin on his face. the drummer looked at his mate, and a look was exchanged between the two. before you could even register their plan, matt had pinned your arms behind your back as nick grabbed the notebook.

you gasped in shock, looking between the two lads. matt was laughing whilst nick flicked through the book, until he stopped. you watched as his eyes scanned the page, before he spoke up. "hey, this is really good."

"let us see then." matt said, and nick handed the notebook to matt. you glanced over, although you knew your best mate would be fuming if he found out, the anticipation had got to you. scribbled at the top of the page were the words 'stop the world i wanna get off with you'. you read through the lyrics, finding that the song was obviously some sort of love song.

"that is really good." you said quietly, a few lyrics sticking out to you. a few phrases you'd heard before. matt hummed, and started tapping the floor with his foot. he flicked to the next page, where alex had written the guitar part.

"oh yeah." matt nodded, "this is similar to the tune we did the other day. 'why'd you only call me when you're high?'"

nick nodded, "yeah i noticed that. dunno who the lyrics are about but its pretty good." as he mentioned the lyrics, matt glanced at him, a certain look in his eyes.

you caught that, confusion written on your face. alex was your best mate, if something was going on, he'd tell you. but you felt like you were missing something here.

just as nick was about to say something, alex and jamie walked back into the room. you, matt and nick all looked between each other and alex, your eyes saying 'uh oh'. alex glanced at matts lap and saw the book.

"what the fuck?" he stormed over to matt and snatched his precious notebook up.

"alex, its good!" matt said, raising his arms up in defence.

"i dont want to do that one." he said angrily.

"why not?" you added in, looking at alex.

alex sighed, looking at you before sitting in the seat he had been in before. "lets just do something else."

"no, lets do this." nick said, his hands now on his hips.

"i wanna see." jamie said, walking to alex and picking up the notebook. alex didnt stop him, he just sat watching jamie's reaction.

after a few moments, jamie looked up with a smile, "this is really good."

"thanks." alex mumbled.

"we could do it. we could do a bit of.." matt stood up and went to his drums, picking up his drumsticks and drumming a bit of a beat. "we could do a bit of that."

alex nodded in approval, "yeah. i wrote the guitar as well. its on the next page."

matt smiled, now knowing that alex had given in as jamie flicked to the next page and looked at the guitar part. "yeahhhhh." he said, nodding his head. he put the notebook down and picked up his guitar, strumming the parts he remembered. everyone in the room collectively nodded, as nick picked up his bass and started playing stuff that would go along with the main guitar.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

the band finished up in the studio 3 hours later, with a demo recorded for the album. alex had offered for you to go round his for tea, and you had gladly accepted. this was something the two of you did often; you would get together and order some sort of takeaway and spend most of the night talking. this had been a sort of tradition ever since alex bought his first house, and you and him spent the first night in there talking until the sun rose.

alex put out his cigarette before unlocking his car as you finished locking up the building. you got into the passenger side, flicking the radio on when alex started the car.

'starman' by david bowie was playing, a song you had always been fond of. you hummed along the the melodies as alex sat in a comfortable silence.

"i was thinking of covering summat for the album." alex spoke up, his accent prominent in his words.

"yeah?" you glance over at him, knowing he probably had an idea of what he wanted to cover by the tone of his voice.

"i was thinking that poem, the one you really like."

"what, 'i wanna be yours'?"

alex nodded. "yeah. thought it would be nice."

you nodded, a small smile on your face. "if you could pull it off. whats all this about though, with the new song and that? a new lover maybe?" you said, wiggling your eyebrows at alex.

"what? no!" he said, looking at you and then back at the road. "stop wiggling your eyebrows at me, you knob."

you just laugh in response, shaking your head as you turned your attention to the road. after a few moments, alex spoke up again.

"did you like the song though? i thought the lyrics were a bit.. i dunno.. cheesy."

"i think it's really good, al. it's similar to the stuff you wrote for 'suck it and see', in a way." you commented, holding back the other thoughts you had.

"yeah, i havent been feeling very.. romantic, lets say, since me and alexa broke up." alex said quietly, knowing that for the past 10 years, there probably hadn't been a single day he hadn't felt that way.

the two settled into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the journey back to alex's house. when they arrived, alex unlocked the door and you went straight to his living room, grabbing 'your' blanket from the back of the settee before settling in the corner of his l-shaped sofa, where you always sat. alex came back into the room with two cans: a can of carling and a pre-mix malibu and pineapple. he passed the latter to you, a quiet 'thank you' leaving your lips.

"chinese or pizza?" alex said, holding up the menus he had also collected from the kitchen.

you hummed, thinking for a moment. "pizza. usual order?"

alex nodded, reaching for his phone to order the food. you got comfy in your seat, pulling the blanket over your legs. you took the tv remote off the coffee table and flicked through the channels, not really reading what was on as something else plagued your mind.

"alright, cheers mate." alex said as he ended the call. "pizza will be here in 45 minutes."

you nodded, your eyes still focused on the tv screen. alex came and sat down next to you, pulling some of the blanket on to his lap and watching you try to find something to watch.

"that sounds good." he said to a true crime series you had stopped your scrolling to read the description of. you clicked on it and placed the remote back down on the coffee table, now concentrating on the series.

alex watched you for a few moments before watching the tv as well. he felt as if something was off with you. usually you would rest your head on his shoulder. he also felt like you'd been a lot quieter today, which you never are.

"are you okay?" he spoke up, watching you turn to look at him.

"uh, yeah." you said quickly, turning your attention back to the screen.

sighing, alex reached for the remote and paused the series. "no you're not. whats up?"

you pull your legs up to your chest, avoiding eye contact. "nothing, its just.." you trail off.

"just..?" alex said, waiting for you to continue.

you sigh, just deciding to spit it out. "the new song.. the lyrics."

alex felt his heart drop, knowing that you knew. "yeah?"

"'with the exception of you i dislike everyone in the room'. you said that to me. at the 'suck it and see' release party." you say, quietly.

"y/n.." alex said, praying silently for you to look at him. "i'm sorry."

you look up at him, confusion written all over your face. "why are you sorry?"

"i dunno, i'm sorry for letting my silly old heart feel like this. i understand if you don't feel the same. but every word in that song is true. the meaning of it all.. and i've always felt this way. thats not the only one as well. so many songs have been inspired by you, and how i feel for you. i'm so, so sorry if you don't reciprocate these feelings, but i can't hide them anymore." alex said, and you could see it all in his eyes. the desperation for you to feel the same, the fear of rejection, the look of love.

you didn't know what to do. you knew you felt the same, and it scared you. it scared you that you'd always loved alex, but could never bring yourself to do anything about it. you never dreamed he would feel the same until today.

"please say something." alex said quietly, watching you.

"i feel the same way." was all you could say at first. you watched as the look in alex's eyes completely changed, how it softened.

"it scares me alex, because i dont want to lose you. i can't lose you. you're my best friend, but i've always felt more. i've always longed to be the one you write songs about. the one you kiss goodnight and wake up beside every morning. but i'm so, so scared. i'm scared i'll ruin it all and i'll lose you. i'm scared of love." you say quietly. the next thing you knew, alexs arms were around your waist, pulling you to his chest.

you clutched onto him, relishing in the feeling of being in his arms. "don't feel like that. don't be scared. you'll never lose me." alex said softly.

you look up at him, watching as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath stolen away as he closed the gap between you and met your lips with his. and in that moment, you knew that had been where you were wrong. as your lips fit alex's perfectly like a puzzle. you knew you were made for each other, soulmates both platonically and romantically.

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

another little a/n: i didn't really know where i was going with this, and i'm sorry if the endings shit😪

p.s if you noticed the miles reference ily

#alex turner x reader #alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner fic #am era

124 notes · View notes

loveharlow · 2 months

Text

SEVEN - 004

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[2.9k] based on 1x04.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mild violence, detainment

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ The shortest and most boooooring chapter to date but it's for a reason :(. And to make up for it (and the late post). I'll post chapter 5 much earlier than intended (AND THAT'S THE MIDSUMMERS CHAPTER WOOO).

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

AND WITHIN MINUTES ALL THAT HOPE DIED. There was no gold. Just a shipwreck. The drone passed over the entire thing three times and nothing. The metal detector didn’t make a single sound.

“Just pull the damn thing up.” John B said, frustrated. “Somebody beat us to it.”

“Or it was never there.” JJ muttered, steering the boat back in the direction you’d come.

WAKING UP TO MARLEY LICKING YOUR FACE WASN’T AN UNCOMMON OCCURRENCE, you assumed it’d just felt so unfamiliar because of the fact that you hadn’t slept in your own bed the last few days since this whole gold rush started. You groaned, lightly pushing the dog away from you with your palm.

“I’m awake, Marls…” You groaned out sleepily, rolling off of your bed with a grunt as you hit the floor, your side still sore from the events of yesterday. The pain was mostly gone, all that remained being a tenderness and slight redness surrounding the area.

Rolling onto your back and sitting up, you pet the chipper animal as she snuggled up under you. “Jesus, your morning breath is worse than mine.” You said, face twisting. Reaching for your phone as you scratched the top of her head, you saw that it was close to noon, you sighed, getting up and walking downstairs to get your day started.

You were surprised to find your mother shifting through documents on the kitchen island when you got there, slowing in your steps. “Hey, mom…” You said, eyeing the woman as you opened the fridge to pull out the milk. She merely glanced up at you, before averting her eyes back down to the documents in front of her.

“Morning.” She muttered. You faced away from her, hearing the pen she was writing with hit the counter as you walked to the side and grabbed the cereal from the pantry. “Did you hear about Topper’s boat?”

You bit your lip, completely forgetting about that. Realizing you hadn't responded and stood frozen in place, you cleared your throat and continued making your breakfast. “No, what happened?” You asked, faking obliviousness and pouring the cereal into a bowl, now facing her again. She had the papers in her hands, reading glasses sitting low atop her nose as her eyes scanned the pages as she spoke.

“He and Mrs.Thornton found it sunken this morning. What a waste of money. I hear it was brand-new.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Topper.” You remembered, pouring the milk over the colorful pellets of food. “Him and his friends aren’t exactly known for being careful.” You muttered with disdain.

“Speaking of caution,” The woman began, clasping her hands in front of her. “I had an interesting meeting with Sheriff Peterkin and Shoupe. They said John B was being chased through town by some dangerous men earlier in the week and he apparently ran from his social worker when she went to pick him up this morning. Do you know what’s going on with him?”

“I don’t know, Mom, maybe the fact that his dad went missing and DCS has been trying to drop him into the system ever since?”

All she could do was sigh. “John B’s father is gone. It’s been almost a year. He needs to accept that and move on.”

“...He needs to just accept the fact that his dad is gone? Do you hear yourself, right now?”

“Listen, I don’t have the energy to argue with you, right now. If you see him or know where he is, it’d be very much appreciated if you could tell Shoupe or Peterkin so they can alert his social worker-”

You scoffed, looking your mother in her eyes. “I'm not doing that. You're crazy if you think I'm going to help you and your cop friends put one of my best friends into foster care-”

“Excuse me?” Your mother was baffled at your tone. But it seemed like everytime you came home recently, on the rare occasion that you did, she always had questions. Scratch questions, accusations. And in your mind, either she knew something or she just wanted reasons to be on your ass. “I don't know what's gotten into you recently. If your father could see you now-”

“No, mom,” You cut her off shortly. “If only he could see you.” You spat, making your way back up the stairs, bowl of cereal in hand, slamming the door behind you.

“AREN’T YOU GLAD I MADE YOU COME?” Kie asked cheerfully, carrying a cooler full of snacks and drinks while you laid out a blanket on top of the grass, JJ and Pope unfolding lawn chairs to sit in. Kie had rounded you all up to see a movie in the park with her. You’d already informed them of the reason for John B’s absence, seeing as this isn’t his first marathon from DCS. If he got away successfully, per usual, you all would be seeing him by tomorrow.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I’ll be honest.” JJ replied. While Kiara was preoccupied, Pope whispered to JJ, but you could still hear them.

“We are in enemy territory. Way out of the green zone, man.” He was visibly anxious, eyes fleeting all across the crowd of people that littered the lawn.

“Dude, tranquilo, okay?” JJ tried to calm him.

“We are in the middle of Kooklandia.” He hissed. “This is the last place I wanted to be.” He ranted, the two boys not even noticing when Kiara got up to go get drinks.

“Shut up. Both of you.” You reprimanded, sternly. “God, you have the worst poker faces I’ve ever seen.”

“They could be lurking in the bushes right now, we don’t know.” Pope tried to make you understand.

“Dude, just chill out.” JJ said. Just then, Kie had come back, four cans of soda in her arms that she distributed evenly amongst the group of you.

“Just saw Rafe,” The name alone sends a small wave of chills down your spine. “He said to ‘tell your girl that we know what she and your boy did’. What does that mean?” Her eyes fleeted towards you for the most part.

“Where is he?” You questioned without hesitation.

“Right there,” She motioned behind her, prompting you to whip your head around to where Topper, Rafe, and Kelce stood menacingly by a tree, sipping on beers. Even from that distance, you could tell he was staring dead at you. It brought back so many unwanted feelings and memories, so badly it made your head hurt.

“Great, the whole death squad.” Pope’s voice cracked.

“Hey,” Kiara’s voice called from beside you, just loud enough for only you to hear. You turned back to face her. “What’s going on? Is he still bothering you? Is it about what happened-”

“No, it’s not.” You were quick to cut her off in case the guys were listening. “It’s not about that.” You said sternly, tuning back into JJ and Pope’s conversation.

“If they corner me, I’m comin’ out swingin. I’m on edge right now.” JJ spoke seriously. “If that doesn’t work, I got this right here.” He assured, holding up his backpack that looked mostly empty but oddly heavy.

“JJ, please tell me you did not bring a gun here. JJ, there are kids!” Kie started, being oddly loud for not wanting people to know that JJ may or may not have brought a gun.

“I didn’t bring the gun, Kiara. Everything’s fine.” He tried to calm her.

“That’s really convincing.” She said, voice full of sarcasm. “...What happened? What did you guys do?” She asked, eyes going back and forth between the three of you that remained quiet. “Founding principle, no secrets among pogues. What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie,” Pope started, voice low. “It might go down tonight.”

YOU ALL WERE A GOOD WAY INTO THE MOVIE AT THIS POINT, the sun had gone down and the air had cooled. The only sounds filling your ears were the movie playing and crickets in the trees. You were sitting in between JJ’s legs, using the base of his lawn chair as a backrest to ease the pain on your side from trying to keep yourself up. You’d heard him and Pope whispering but paid no mind until the blonde was tapping your shoulder, signaling that he was getting up.

“Where are you guys going?” You questioned, looking up at him and adjusting the chair from where it had slipped behind you once he got up.

“We gotta wring it out.”

“Together?” Kie asked.

“It’s bro code. Bro’s who piss together…” He struggled to find a rhyme with the made-up honor code. “...stick together. We’ll be right back.” You watched as the pair of boys crouched, creeping through the crowd and over to a tree next to the projector screen. You questioned why they didn’t head to the actual bathrooms but quickly got your answer with a quick glance back, seeing Rafe and his goons blocking it.

“Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on?” Kie whispered.

You sighed, curling in on yourself slightly. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know.” The girl scoffed and shook her head.

“Do the guys know? About what happened?”

“No. Why would they?”

“Do you ever plan on telling them?” You rolled your eyes, starting to get frustrated.

“No, Kie, I don’t. I’d like to forget it ever happened, if that’s okay with you.” You snapped, silence falling over the two of you as the movie continued to play.

You assumed maybe a handful of minutes had gone by before you noticed the guys hadn’t come back yet and one weary glance behind you told you all you needed to know — Rafe, Kelce, and Topper were gone, too.

You immediately shook Kie’s arm, startling the poor girl.

“What? What is it?”

“We need to go. Now.” Was all you said before you got up, taking JJ’s bag with you as you and Kie swiftly walked in the direction the guys had gone earlier so as to not alarm any movie viewers. Coming around the back of the projector screen, you were met with a brutal scene in front of you — Kelce held JJ by his arms as Rafe delivered blow after blow to his face while Topper beat up Pope.

“Let go of him! Fascist asshole!” Kie yelled as she whacked Topper in the back over and over. You made a b-line for Rafe, throwing JJ’s bag down and jumping onto the boy’s back, wounding your arms around his neck, allowing JJ an open opportunity to push Kelce off of him.

“Leave him alone, Rafe!” You screeched.

“You don’t wanna do this, sunshine!” He yelled back, throwing you off of his back and onto the grass. Just like yesterday, you were on your back as he stared down at you, breathing heavily. “I’m being nice. Only ‘cause you’re my favorite.” He smirked, huffing with blood in the corner of his lip before turning back to JJ.

You rolled on your side in the grass to see Topper choking out Pope only after having seen him throw Kiara to the ground. JJ had Rafe handled. You reached for JJ’s bag that had been abandoned, flipping it open to reveal the gun and a lighter. Your eyes went back and forth between the gun and Topper, who had Pope in a deadly chokehold at this point.

You wanted to do it, so bad.

But a gun to a Kook's head was what caused all of this in the first place, so you dismissed the thought, kicking the lighter over to Kie, the object hitting the sole of her shoe.

The girl looked down at the lighter and then at you, you motioned towards the projector screen and she caught on quickly. It wasn’t long before the projector screen was going up in flames, scaring the movie guests and breaking up the fight, spooking the guys. Topper released Pope as JJ pushed Kelce back once more, Rafe stood off in the middle of the four guys, staring directly at you as you got up.

When he snapped out of whatever trance he was in, he gathered up Topper and Kelce and fled the scene. Kie helped Pope up as you turned your attention to JJ. He was fixing his clothes but you didn’t miss the scars on his cheek and bottom lip.

“Are you okay?” You asked frantically, eyes roaming his entire face for any more cuts.

“Fine, I’m fine.” He calmed you as you laid a hand on his shoulder before trailing it up to the back of his neck, but he looked like he wanted to say something. Like he was thinking extremely hard.

“C’mon, let’s go.” You urged the rest of your group, leaving before the fire department and cops inevitably made their appearance.

“I JUST ACTED OFF INSTINCT, MAN. I WAS A CORNERED ANIMAL.” Pope told JJ as he restocked some items on the shelves inside of Heyward’s. It was the next morning but you were all still on edge about the fight last night. It was clear now that Topper knew Pope and yourself were the ones who sank his boat and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Don’t feel bad, dude. It was three of them and two of us.” JJ tried to remedy it. “That’s some typical Kook shit right there.”

“Hell yeah.” Kie agreed.

“Hey Pope,” Heyward’s voice rang out in the small crab-shack, towel slung over the older man’s shoulder. “There’s someone here to see you.” He motioned behind him, Deputy Shoupe making his appearance.

Pope’s posture immediately straightened, his eyes going wide as the shop went silent with Shoupe’s arrival. “Evening, officer.” He barely got out. Shoupe’s eyes went between you and Pope before replying.

“You’re both here. Great.” He said, reaching into his holster. “I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property. For both of you.”

“Woah, woah, woah…” Heyward was stunned as he stood back and watched the scene play out in front of him.

“Keep your hands on the counter where I can see ‘em.” Shoupe handcuffed Pope first, the boy putting up no fight in his daze. He looked like he’d faint any moment.

“Shoupe, what’d they do?!” Heyward tried again.

“Look at the warrant.” Was all the deputy offered in response, remaining stoic. Once Pope was secure, he moved onto you, looking you in the eyes somewhat pitifully before beckoning for you to turn around and put your hands behind your back. Heyward, Kiara, and JJ were causing commotion, talking over one another as he secured you in handcuffs.

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney…” He continued but you could barely hear him as he single-handedly guided both you and Pope out of Heyward’s Seafood. Pope’s father, JJ, and Kie follow close behind.

“Shoupe, it was just me.” You tried, craning your neck to look at the officer. “Pope didn’t do anything.”

“Nice try, kiddo. But there were two people on that boat, caught it on camera. And your face is as clear as day.” He dismissed you.

“It was me!” JJ yelled, causing Shoupe to stop in his tracks. The three of you turned around to look at the blonde. “...Pope tried to talk us out of it. But Y/N and I were just too mad because they’d just been beaten up. I was so sick of those Figure Eight assholes." He spoke convincingly, eyes landing on Pope's ashamed figure. "I can’t let you take the blame for something I did.” JJ was now right in front of Pope, looking the boy dead in his eyes. “You’ve got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what’re you doing?” Pope said hushed but still aggressive.

“I’m telling the truth, for once in my damn life.” He said without much hesitation at all. “I took his old man’s boat, too.”

“What the hell…” Heyward looked crazily at the blonde boy.

“He’s a good kid.” JJ told Shoupe. “...You know where I’m from.” Shoupe nodded lightly, agreeing with the statement before his attention was on you and Pope.

“That the whole truth, Pope?” Shoupe inquired, cocking an unbelievable eyebrow.

He seemed to ponder on it before gulping heavily and nodding his head shakily, looking at JJ one last time. “Yeah…that," He huffed. "That covers it.”

YOU’D NEVER SEEN THE INSIDE OF A JAIL CELL, not that you ever planned on it. It was suffocating. The walls, the color of the walls, the dingy bars, the stale air. You felt like a caged animal, an unwelcome chill making the experience that much more unbearable.

You and JJ sat across from one another — on the floor, legs bent underneath with your heads thrown back.

“Why’d you do it?” You questioned, your voice echoing out within the cell. "Take the fall, I mean..."

“I couldn’t let Pope go down for it.” His raspy voice replied. “I would’ve taken the fall for you both. But I heard Shoupe, they had footage of two people and your face was ‘as clear as day’.” He mocked the older man’s southern twang.

The action made you chuckle, craning your head down to look at him, not aware that he was already looking at you.

You sighed, shaking your head and running fingers through the base of your hair. “I should’ve never suggested it in the first place. I knew it was a stupid idea, I just wasn’t in the right headspace…”

“Because of Rafe?” The question made your heart stop, eyes jumping up to his before fleeting to the ground. “It’s not hard to notice. He clearly knows you, knows you. But I just…can’t put the pieces together. What happened between you two?”

You looked down at your hands that were now wound around your knees, your fingers fiddling with each other. “A lot of things happened, when I first moved to Figure Eight and fell in with Kiara and I’s old friend group. Let’s just... leave it at that.”

The blonde was looking at you like he wanted to press for more information and you knew one day he would, and with the way recent events have played out? That day might come sooner than you were comfortable with. But for right now, you just couldn’t wait until you got out of this cell. Somehow.

feedback is appreciated! thanks for reading.

SVN Taglist; (let me know if you'd like to be added!) @esquivelbianca @fallingwallsh @calmoistorm @i-love-ptv @liability28 @rivaiken @sophiahristov @rafxcameronss (striked means i'm unable to tag you!)

©loveharlow.

#Spotify #jj maybank x reader #SVN #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #obx jj #jj maybank fluff #obx jj x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x you #jj maybank imagine

153 notes · View notes