Tumgik
#Listen I based my entire personality on her
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funnily enough, season 3 changed how i view and write the royal family. and i mean every single member lmao
erik was not as perfect or as kind as a lot of us hoped for as and wille believed. he could be cruel and was likely just as unhappy as wille was as crown prince. he was just more willing and skilled at hiding it. this kind of creates an interesting view into how their sibling dynamic was so different from their actual selves. or at least it was for erik. in my mind, erik grew up knowing he was going to take over the throne and therefore felt like he kind of had to split himself off into different personas-showing a different part of who he really was to certain people so that everyone could stay in his corner (like a good king would i guess). so much so that no one, not even his parents or wille or august, can ever get a true grasp on who erik was.
wille didn’t grow up like that. he grew up very similarly, but he didn’t have the expectation of ruling an entire country. he was more of a “what if” and “just to be safe” option. he was an afterthought, and rather than split his personality into different pieces of himself, he instead became more of a recluse who yearns for love but never receives it in the way he needs. so he is only ever fully himself when he’s around people who can reciprocate his yearning for kindness and care. the people who he feels safe with. erik was that for him even though erik, unbeknownst to him, wasn’t who he really thought. and simon eventually became that safety net as well. but by that time he had become crown prince. and to be the crown prince, he was gonna have to adapt like erik had. and wille was never good at pretending for the sake of others, so the crown prince persona ended up intruding onto the real wille until simon could no longer recognize him.
kristina is neglectful and ludvig is a silent passenger in it all. these are things i already knew but i feel like season 3 gave me so much more to work with in terms of their family dynamic. wille loves them both and was going crazy with guilt at the thought of kristina’s mental health deteriorating because of him. wille blames himself a lot, which makes me believe that the two of them had no problem doing that before. blaming wille for scandals or tiny mistakes he made. so much so that wille ended up convincing himself that everything that goes wrong is somehow his fault. just bad bad parents. do i think they love wille? yea im sure they do, but the crown clearly comes first for them and wille honestly deserves so much better. he deserves to be loved in a way that is reciprocal and not based on condition. kristina loved erik so much because erik wasn’t just her firstborn but was also the perfect crown prince. he listened and followed order and played puppet. wille was obviously much more difficult, and since she couldn’t show her love for him by praising his behavior, she just didn’t show him it
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tibtew · 8 months
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*clutching head* rodya and meursault would have such a good dynamic actually
I wonder if rodya would initially see meursault's indifference as like. a simpler version of her own feigned carefreeness and as a deliberate attempt to place himself as an outsider... only to realise that No, he really Is just Like That. and then she gets annoyed because it turns out that people who don't care about anything don't seem to be any fun.
(ofc he does actually care about a lot of things, just not necessarily his grander place in the world lol)
idk. nihilism vs absurdism. fun duo 👍 rodya would find meursault's genuine comfort with being a speck of dust in the universe baffling, while he would probably find her desire to assert her own importance pointless, but they could probably bond over little things like their shared desire to live in the present and appreciation of/indulgence in earthly joys. and meursault would probably listen if rodya wants to rant about anything without asking any uncomfortable questions. I think they could appreciate each other's presence.
#slamming my conspiracy board#listen it's not my fault meursault vibes with literally the entire female cast#rodya enjoyers help me out here please I haven't read crime and punishment am I talking out of my ass#I just think it'd be kind of interesting if like. rodya kills someone for a very specific reason (to assert herself as special)#while meursault kills someone for seemingly no good reason#but because of time place circumstance etc#meursault is the one made out to be the outsider to society#while rodya goes unacknowledged and all her motives backfire#like I'm not saying that meursault has Exactly what rodya wants or anything#but I think he Does possess a level of guiltlessness that she was trying to achieve through her self-confidence#also I find it interesting how pride is like. a big thing for both of them#like they both have excessive belief in themselves and their own abilities. in rodya it manifests as self-confidence or I guess. an ego#while in meursault it's more about. a belief in his own interpretation of the world rather than himself as a person? I hope that makes sens#also they both reject collectivist ideas which is. fun#neither of them perform to what a society would expect from them but for rodya it's an active effort to assert her individuality#while meursault just Doesn't Get societal conventions from the get-go unless they're explained to him#I think they also both tend to project a lot 💀 meursault expects his own indifference from others while rodya projects her own#experiences onto others' and makes assumptions based on that before knowing the full details#txt#limbus company#I feel too embarrassed to add more specific tags ngl 💀 💀 💀#lcb meursault#lcb rodion#lcb rodya#nvm. feelings of cringe are for Losers I am Strong
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meavitamin-notes · 9 months
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ot3 take
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bookwyrminspiration · 7 months
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first thing. the tumblr updates are so bad WHO said "we won't be able to go to prev tags AND we won't let them open posts in new tabs. just for funsies" SECOND thing: oh the things my brain is capable of when it finally realizes the book is a good and entertaining book even. when did i finish the first one because i am (checks notes) over halfway through this one!! maybe about three quarters in. current events are: janel just told kihrin that the wizard they're waiting on is NOT thurvishar (sad) but actually relos var (and kihrin stays anyway jdfbds that is. that's just our guy innit), and qown has alerted the duke about janel's disappearance--SO many thoughts about gender and queerness and also the various romantic relationships at play namely rip teraeth. give janel a polycule 2k23--but going to go through your answers and respond to those first!!
Tumblr sucks extra bad right now, it's truly ridiculous. Good thing we have wild book series to distract us! And you certainly have sent me a lot of asks in response to my answers, I might need some time to get through them
I did the exact same thing though, plowed through the series. And I loved it so much I genuinely considered going out at like 8pm to a barnes and noble (I hardly ever go to barnes and noble, and I don't got anywhere after 5) to pick up book 5 when I finished book 4. This series consumed me, it's so hard to put down (at least for me)
But yeah that's our guy. The one person he wants to see least and really should be avoiding Janel has specifically invited and he. Does not leave. Even though he has almost no connection to these people, as far as he knows he met them all today.
AND YEAH!! The implicit queerness in so much of the world and story....Janel I would do anything for you. She's not the only queer one she's just specifically a genderqueer main character so I adore her for that. I think I actually made several posts losing my mind over Janel and Jorat in general as I was reading.
RIP Teraeth though, especially at the end of the book. Joining you in your give janel a polycule 2k23 movement, she deserves it <3. she deserves everything, actually. I'm normal about her.
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seekingthestars · 1 year
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happy wednesday, going bss is the best thing and also i've been so tired this week i don't wanna do anything also i have a ton of projects at work and i'm just sorta. existing. vaguely.
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ziracona · 1 year
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Psychiatrists and therapists will be like “I just really wanted to help people who really need it, you know? I want to make sure you all get the best care you can. : ) Its so important you know? Anyway, I only accept CEO Platinum Plus Healthcare and I charge 600 dollars an hour for talk therapy. You need a disposable income of $5,000 a month to consider actually seeing me enough to offer you any real help. I just love humanity so so much and I love improving people’s mental health and healing; I’m a good person.”
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ev-arrested · 11 months
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You can tell the exact mental state of Dick Grayson based on the music he plays in the car
His entire family monitors his listening habits, and if it's anything but things from the list of genres and artists that Dick normally likes while provably mentally stable, they get concerned.
Tim, texting the group chat without Dick in it: Hey, guys, just needed to let y'all know that Dick picked me up today, and he put on an NF song in the car.
Barbara: Fuck, he's depressed.
Steph: Isn't he always?
Barbara: No, like--more than usual.
-
A week later.
Jason: Y'all, I'm with him rn and he's blasting S&M in the training room. One of you bitches--and I will find out who--triggered some body image issues, and now he's sexualizing himself to cope.
Tim: Did one of you guys call him ugly or smth???
Steph: I would never. I'm not a mean person, unlike you guys.
Damian: Why did you immediately assume it was one of us?
Jason: Because y'all are terrible people.
Tim: I'm not taking this from a literal gang leader.
Jason: But I admit, that is a bit of a jump on my part. It could've been any of Dick's trash friends that he, for some reason, keeps around, so that's on me.
Cass: Monitor him so he doesn't do anything drastic.
Barbara: Let me know if he starts compulsively thinking about becoming a stripper.
Jason: If that happens, there's no saving him.
-
After Dick returns from Spyral.
Duke: Now this just might be me, but I don't think I ever pegged Dick as a metalhead before he went off to work for Spyral.
Tim: Dear god.
Tim: Don't tell me he's listening to SOAD.
Duke: What even is that.
Jason: System of a Down
Duke: Oh, yeah, it's that.
Tim: NOOOOOOO
Duke: What does that mean???
Barbara: He's self-destructive.
Steph: Isn't he normally?
Barbara: No, like--I mean yes, but more explosively.
Jason: His main goal is to blow up...
Barbara: Don't.
Steph: aND THEN ACT LIKE HE DON'T KNOW NOBODY
Jason: HAH HAH HAH HAH
Barbara: This is serious.
-
Steph: He's listening to vocaloid. That's....so odd??? @Damian did you have anything to do with this?
Tim: oh my god
Damian: The answer to this question is of high importance: what song is it?
Steph: Do you think I can speak Japanese??
Damian: Ask.
Steph: omg fine.
Steph: He says it's "Assassin Princess" by Mitchie M.
Tim: Hold on lemme listen to this shit
Damian: It's a good song.
Jason: Okay, but what does that tell us?
Damian: It's not a song I ever played for him.
Jason: So you're telling me he's listening to vocaloid independent of you?
Damian: It would appear so.
Jason: Oh, that's bad.
Tim: The song's about a spy and her partner murdering her ex-boyfriend who betrayed her.
Steph: He's feeling vengeful.
Jason: Oh, that's really bad.
-
Cass: He's playing One Direction.
Barbara: Honestly?? Chances are, he's fine.
Duke: Agreed. He's playing "What Makes You Beautiful", so I doubt it's anything.
Duke: Now if he starts playing shit from their solo careers, we have a problem.
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captainfern · 7 months
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omg omg cap please i’m begging you to write this (if you have time)
HAVE YOU SEEN that specific scene of “Six” with Barry Sloane where him and his wife are trying fertility treatments and he basically has to j off and fill a cup and then his wife comes and calls him “my big bear” and man’s already busting with just that??? WELL-
can we get smth like this with Price? Like it doesn’t have to be that specific scenario just smth where his s/o is jerking him off and calls him a name, and he immediately comes, but that’s exactly not the end of it? YOU GET IT
i’ve been thinking about it an unhealthy amount these past days… I’m literally foaming at the mouth.
Anonymous asked: Been seeing a lot of Bear appreciation on here, so what about... C. Price and reader trying to (naturally, of course) conceive? Maybe he's on injury leave or something! He gets hurt and now is the perfect time to tell him she wants him to retire and put a baby in her >:) I just see that scene from SIX and go feral every time. Breeding kink go wild 🙏
Anonymous asked: Dbf!price x reader mating press? Or or or price taking her somewhere nice for dinner and they go back to his place and he leads her through it while doin the nasty….
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In Utero
Captain John Price x fem!reader
[“In Utero” Album by Nirvana]
[18+]
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• summary - you and price are trying for a baby lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 3.9k • warnings - fem!reader, civilian!reader, some possessive!price, handjobs, unprotected piv (obviously), praise, breeding kink, creampies, mating press, talks of pregnancy n babies blah blah blah, body worship, breeding kink (again cause i'm being so fr), price calls you mama at one point (*whispering* is this a mommy kink? i don't know. i don't think so? but idk take this how you will), strong language
the amount of breeding kink related requests i get for this man is crazy 😭 some of you should be studied cause oh my god (i am not complaining)
killing three birds with one stone with this one. changed it a little but hope you all enjoy :)
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It had been a long few days on base, and Price had been looking forward to coming home to you.
He loved nothing more than returning home to you after work. You'd greet him, looking absolutely fucking stunning, and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and cradle him to you. He'd breath you in, absorb your presence, his mind running a million miles an hour as he hugged you back.
You were his. And he was so happy.
Price never considered himself a very possessive person. But when it came to you, his wife, he felt an overwhelming urge to ensure everyone knew you were his.
He was so, so proud of you. He's always show you off, worship the ground you walked on. He'd hold your hand, or guide you with a hand to the base of your spine in public. He wasn't afraid to pin your body next to his in a crowd, either.
It was much the same in the bedroom.
Price would worship your entire body. He'd kiss up and down the length of it, from head to toe. He'd take extra care in massaging different parts of you that he loved– your tits, your waist, your hips, your arse, your thighs. He'd smooth his fingers over your skin, trailing kisses in their wake, whispering sweet praise and affirmations as he did so.
When he'd finally reach your face, he'd kiss you with as much passion and force as the sea. Cradling your head, holding your face, moving his lips warmly against yours, probing your mouth with his tongue, deepening the kiss so he could be closer to you.
He loved you.
You were his, and he was yours.
•º•
You had gone for a night out with your friends, leaving Price alone at home.
To keep him occupied in the silence of the house, he cleaned and cooked, listening to his music. He cooked up a meal that he stored in the fridge for later, then he proceeded to clean what he could of the house. He wanted to ensure you got home from having fun and didn't have to lift a finger.
And so Price could have you all to himself for the night.
You returned home hours later, the sun sinking past the horizon. You entered your home, your social battery ticking downwards, and Price was in front of you as soon as the front door was closed and locked.
He wrapped you in his arms, your face to his chest, and you returned the hug as he placed his chin on the top of your head.
"You had fun, sweetheart?" Price asked, taking a deep breath after pressing his nose to the crown of your head.
You hummed into his chest. "Yeah, it was nice."
You pulled out of the hug, and Price held your hand as you walked him into the living room. The both of your flopped down onto the couch. You couldn't help but admire the way he spread his legs when he sat, and the expansion of his thighs beneath his sweatpants as they made contact with the couch cushions.
You squeezed your thighs together, heat blooming in your core. A giddy, almost nervous feeling swelled in your chest as you locked eyes with your husband. You chewed on your bottom lip, fighting a flustered smile.
He looked so good.
Annnndddd you were ovulating.
Yep.
Evident by the fact that at just one look from your husband, one smile, your underwear was completely fucking soaked.
Price released a breathy laugh. "What?"
You whined, still biting your lip and smiling. "You look so handsomeeeee." You said, dragging out the final word.
He laughed again, eyes twinkling. Your eyes scanned his face, then you were crawling across the couch. He shifted, leaning back so you could crawl onto his lap, arse across his thick thighs. You ran your hands up and down his torso, feeling the smooth ridges of his muscle beneath his shirt. He hummed in the back of his throat, eyes closing, as you dragged your nails down the soft bumps of his abs.
"John, can I touch you?" You asked, hands coming to rest on the waistband of his sweatpants, toying with the ridges of the elastic.
"You are touching me." Price joked, opening his eyes. He settled his hands on your hips and squeezed gently.
You rolled your eyes. "I want your cock."
Price couldn't help but laugh through his moan as you shimmied his sweatpants and boxers down, pulling out his hardening cock. He groaned deeply as you pumped him a couple of times to full stiffness, before swiping your thumb across the head.
His hips bucked, twitching against the couch. You continued to fist him tightly while leaning over and letting a string of saliva fall from your mouth. It dripped across the tip of his cock, and Price let out a throaty moan, the grip on your hips tightening.
You used your saliva to make your hand glide, pumping him quickly. Usually, your stokes would be languid, seductive, as you prepped to either take him in your mouth or in your cunt. But this time, your movements were purposely fast, and the grunts in Price's quick breathing was an indicator that he liked it.
The wet clicks were consecutive as you stroked his cock from base to tip– squeezing tighter near the base, twisting near the tip. Price grumbled contentedly as you did so, beads of pre-cum leaking from his slit. He watched you with hooded eyes, a fucked out smile on his face as you jerked him off.
"Haven't even been home five minutes and you were so desperate for my cock, huh, sweetheart?" Price mused, hips jerking and cock twitching as you sped up the movement of your hand. He groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. He forced them open, watching your hand for a second, before finding your face. He smiled, leaning forward to try and kiss you. "Mmm this is your cock, isn't it, baby? You can have it whenever you want..."
He kissed you, and you let him. You let his tongue lick along the seam of your lips, and you allowed him to coax your mouth open, a moan passing from his to yours. You continued fisting his cock, heating up against your palm, the tip flushed and glistening.
You pulled out of the kiss and with his eyes closed, Price rested his forehead against yours, mouth agape. He opened his eyes eventually, looking down at where you rapidly stroked his throbbing cock. He let out a quiet groan, flecks of pre-cum splattering onto his shirt at the pace at which you jerked him off.
He was close, his release building higher with each stroke of your hand. He held your hips tighter, grinding you onto his lap, and you moaned quietly, sweetly. He groaned in response, lifting his mouth to try and kiss you. You backed up a bit, enough so his lips were just brushing yours.
"John?" You whispered, and he released a quiet groan at that.
"Mmm?" He didn't have the cognitive ability to reply with words at his point, solely focussed on the way you were stroking his cock, and his looming orgasm.
You pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then pulled back. He watched you, eyelids drooping, eyes glassy, and you couldn't help but smile. You leaned back in, and whispered, "I want you to put a baby in me."
Price let out a loud, guttural groan. "Holy fuck."
He came abruptly, thick ropes painting your hand and his shirt. He moaned your name, cock twitching as strings of white dribbled down your fingers and across his now semi-hard length. Price pressed forward, kissing you, and you pumped him a couple more times before you were retracting your hand. You moved your head away, and licked his cum off your fingers. His eyes rolled, and he slumped back against the couch with a groan.
"You liked that, huh?" You teased, creeping your fingers beneath his shirt and slowly pushing it up, revealing the dark happy trail that led from his navel to his pelvis.
He hummed his agreement as you pulled his shirt further, and he sat up, lifting his arms so you could pull it off all the way. You tossed it aside before running the flat of your hands up and down his body. He hummed again, this time in content as you massaged the flesh of his pectorals, running your thumbs over his nipples and making him jerk against the couch.
"D'you mean what you said?" Price suddenly asked as you dragged your nails down the grooves in his abs. Goosebumps raised along his skin.
"What, about putting a baby in me?" You smiled, and he groaned, head flopping backwards again. You ran your fingers through the hair of his happy trail, following it down to his cock, still sticky with his release. You took hold of it again, and you felt it slowly hardening. Your smile grew. "Oh, I'm serious, John."
You pumped him slowly, gently, until he was fully hard in your hand once more. Price's breathing was laboured as he kept his head tossed back, eyes screwed shut. His chest rose and fell.
You stripped yourself of your own shirt and bra while he was occupied, managing to do so while still gently stroking his cock. Then, you raised yourself, and wiggled your skirt off– you had to use both hands to do this.
With your hand gone from his cock, Price pulled his head forward to see what you were doing. He released a breathy moan, immediately bringing his hands to your waist. You laughed as he dragged you forward and buried his face between your tits. You threaded your hands into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he kissed the soft skin of your chest.
His hands rubbed your waist, your lower back. Then, one hand still on your lower back, the other came to rest on your tummy, and he rubbed it gently.
"Wanna get you pregnant," he whispered into your sternum. "Mhm... mhm... wanna put a baby in you."
You felt your core throb red-hot at his words, your entire body thrumming with sexual energy that really, really needed to be released. You still had your underwear on, and you could feel your arousal dripping into the soft cotton fabric.
Face still in between the mounds of your breasts, Price dragged his hands away from your stomach and back and hooked his fingers beneath the waistline of your underwear. He slowly pulled them down until they were mid-thigh and couldn't go any further with the way you were sprawled across his lap.
Price shifted his head to the side, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he took two fingers and ran them up and down your wet slit. You keened, looking down at him with a whimper of his name. He looked up at you, mouth suctioned around your tit, as he dragged two fingers through your folds.
He retracted, moving to repeat his actions on your other nipple as he gently pushed his two fingers inside of you. You released a moan from low in your throat, holding yourself steady on your husbands shoulders as he fingered you open. He continued to watch you, tongue and teeth against your sensitive flesh, revelling in the way your tight walls clutched at his fingers.
Drops of arousal pooled past his knuckles and through the lines in his palm. He angled his hand so the drops dripped onto his lap, and the heel of his palm ground against your puffy clit. You gasped, hand shooting upwards to tug on Price's hair, his teeth scraping the bud of your nipple at the same time.
"John, I need you." You whined, trying desperately to grind yourself onto the heel of his palm. He let you, the pressure on your swollen clit making your eyes drop closed and your mouth drop open.
"What do you want from me?" He asked in a whisper, curling his fingers inside you and making your body alight with pleasure. The base of your tummy drew tight as the pads of his fingers worked that spot inside you.
"Need your cock," you whined impatiently, your climax just inches away from you. "Please, please, need you to fill me up."
You clenched around his fingers as he continued to hit that spot inside you. He applied more pressure to your clit, throbbing in tandem with the heartbeat in your chest. Price changed the angle of your sitting arrangement, so he could now comfortably kiss up the column of your neck.
"Need my cock, eh? Just need me to fill you up?" He murmured into your ear as he fucked his fingers into you. "I'll fill you up, sweetheart, I will. Fill you up niceeee and full. Fill this pretty tummy with my kids, eh, baby?"
His words made you come around his fingers without much warning. You pushed yourself against him, orgasm knocking you off balance as it wracked through you. Price fingered you through it, his other hand on your lower back and keeping your body close to his. He kissed you and although you struggled to kiss him back, you were still moaning his name into his mouth.
Price kissed you again, and then peppered kisses across your face as he took his fingers out of you. He grabbed your hips in both hands and helped you off his lap, standing you on your feet as he followed. Your underwear dropped the rest of the way down your thighs, and you quickly kicked them across the room as you grabbed Price by the shoulders and pulled him back into you.
Price's sweatpants and boxers fell and he kicked them away too as he kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. Still kissing, he led you out of the living room and eventually, the two of you made it to your bedroom, breathless.
He pushed you down onto your bed, and you giggled as he immediately followed after you, pinning your body beneath his. The weight of him made your cunt throb, arousal sticky against your inner thighs. The warm, solid form of his cock against your inner thigh made you moan, scratching your nails down his back.
"Can't wait for you to have my kids... our kids..." Price drawled between lazy kisses as he notched the head of his cock at your dripping cunt, smearing your arousal around your hole. "You're gonna look so pretty as a mum, aren't you, baby? Gonna be such a good mama."
Price pushed into you in one solid thrust, knocking the air from your lungs. You arched your back, meshing closer to him, as the tip of his cock knocked up against your cervix. You mewled, grasping at his back, as he dragged his cock out. The sensation was slow and heavy and sparked something deep in your stomach. When he was all the way out, he playfully tapped the head of his cock to your clit a couple of times. You choked on your moan, before he was filling you up again.
"John–" You moaned outwardly, sickly sweet and making him grunt above you. He doubled his efforts, slamming into you, the rhythm rocking the bed against the wall.
His fat cock split you open, stretching your wet hole around him and pushing up into your womb. You could feel him in your stomach. You felt so full.
Price pressed a hand to your lower stomach, admiring the subtle outline of his cock beneath the soft mound of your belly. He moaned loudly, pressing harder, and the feeling made you moan as well.
"John, fuck, oh my god." You whimpered as he thrust into you, heavy and rough, dragging along the tight, wet walls of your cunt. You clenched around him, your hands desperately trying to bring him closer to you. His chest hair against your tits, his hands on your stomach and hip– you wanted, no, needed him close.
He removed his hand from your stomach, instead gripping your hips as he fucked you into the mattress. He was grunting and groaning above you, eyes never leaving the way your body and face were reacting.
"That's a good girl, taking it so well... Always take it so well, sweetheart, don't you?" Price murmured, eyes on your face. "Such a good girl taking my cock. S'like this pretty cunt was made for it, eh, baby?"
For emphasis, he increased his pace. The tip of his cock slammed into your sweet spot, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. His thrusts were drawing wet sounds from you, and you could feel your arousal being spread across your lower arse and inner thighs as he moved.
Your second orgasm approached quickly. Price fucked you hard, his noises of pleasure above you making you flutter around him. Your clit throbbed with a heartbeat, a thin layer of sweat settling over your naked body.
"John, John–" You tried to warn him, but failed when your orgasm slammed through you mid-sentence, rendering you speechless. You gushed around him, and he moaned, hips stuttering as your cunt squeezed around his cock, your orgasm dribbling out of you with each timed thrust.
He moaned your name. "Mmm there you go, there you go. My perfect girl, that's it. Feels good, sweetheart?"
You nodded, dizzy. "Yeah, y-yeah, fuck, so good, John, so good."
Price hummed, pleased. As you babbled, he shifted off of you for a second so he could hook his hands beneath your knees. Cock still stuffed inside you, he bent your legs and pressed them up against your chest, making you release a series of airy whimpers. He pressed his body heavily against you, holding the backs of your knees and literally folding you in half.
He began his thrusts again, and your eyes rolled at the new angle– his cock hit further, deeper inside you. The remnants of your orgasm were loud and wet as he rutted into you desperately, deep grunts falling from his mouth.
"Gotta fuck you deep, baby," he whispered, voice low. "Gotta stuff you full of my cock so it takes. Want it to take... want it to fucking take..." He punctuated each sentence with an extra heavy thrust, cock dragging against your slick walls. He groaned. "Gonna get you pregnant, sweetheart. Gonna get you fat with my kids. That's what you want, yeah? Want me to breed this pretty cunt?"
You hummed a yes. His words were making you even dizzier than you already were. You moaned and moaned, pleasure poisoning your veins as he fucked you towards a third orgasm. Your body was hot, damp with sweat. Price was warm too, strands of wet hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at you.
"Fuck, fuck," Price whispered. "You're my good girl, baby, you're my good girl. Want you to come one more time for me, okay? One more time n' then I'm gonna–" He cut himself off with a moan, but you understood.
Your body shook beneath him, your legs tightening in his grasp. Then, with a shattering moan of his name, you came around his cock. Your third orgasm fizzed through you, and it took a while to fizzle out as he rutted into you nonstop. The feeling of static pleasure lingered as he chased his high, and you whimpered quietly in his ear as he fucked your sopping cunt.
Your husband was cursing under his breath, moaning your name too. His balls slapped against the curve of your arse, sticky with your arousal, and the hands on the backs of your knees gripped tighter as his orgasm loomed. He imagined the future– you, round with his baby and looking so fucking pretty. He moaned at the thought, cock throbbing inside you.
"Oh, fuck– fuck, m'gonna come, mama," it slipped out through a moan. "M'gonna breed this pretty cunt nice and full. M'gonna give you my kids–"
Buried to the hilt inside you, Price came. A lot.
He filled you, just like he promised, and you felt the thick, hot ropes flood past your cervix. You moaned his name, and he slammed his mouth onto yours, shushing you with his tongue. He continued thrusting gently, stuffing his seed further inside you, plugging it up against your womb with the head of his cock. He groaned when you squeezed around him, gently dropping your legs from him.
Price pulled out of the kiss, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Fuck, I love you."
"I love you too." You replied breathlessly, and the both of you lay in silence for a moment, panting like dogs in heat.
Fitting, really. The thought made you smile.
Price groaned into your neck, sucking a kiss to the skin. You pet his head gently.
"What's the matter?" You asked him, soothing the crown of his head as he bit and sucked at the curve of your shoulder.
"I just imagined you pregnant again," he uttered against you. "And now I'm hard again."
You laughed. "John, oh my god."
•º•
Several months of... trying... later, you sat in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hands. Happy tears rolled down your cheeks as you looked at the two lines.
Outside, Price knocked on the door. "You alright, sweetheart?"
You sniffled. "Yeah, m'fine."
"You sure?" Price asked as soon as he heard the slight waver in your voice. "If you're not feeling well, we can tell the boys we can reschedule dinner–"
You opened the door of the bathroom with the test behind your back. Price noticed the tears, cupping your face.
"What's wrong?"
You had always planned on revealing your future pregnancy to your husband in an elaborate way. You'd dreamed of it, actually. But, overwhelmed with excitement and relief, you simply took his hands off your face, and placed the pregnancy test in his palm. He took it, confused for a moment, eyeing it skeptically.
Then, his eyes widened, tears immediately springing to his waterline as he looked down at you.
"You're pregnant?" He was crying.
"Yeah." You were crying too.
He wrapped you in his arms, pressing you gently to him and burying his face in your hair, sobbing with happiness. Your heart clenched, the excitement rolling off of him. After a long moment, he pulled back, placing a sweet kiss to your lips.
"Told you I'd get you pregnant." He smiled, winking.
You rolled your eyes.
He laughed, then looked at the test again. He beamed, eyes twinkling. Then, he looked down at you again, eyes shining with mischief. You narrowed your eyes jokingly at him.
"What?" You fought a smile.
"Are we sure this is accurate?" He smiled. "We might, you know, have to try a couple more times, just to be sure."
"John!" You laughed.
And the two of you did have to reschedule dinner with the boys. You both got distracted.
•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•
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leaderwonim · 2 months
Text
smart, sexy, lacy, i’m losing it lately.
pairing. student!yang jungwon x student!fem!reader
summary. jungwon has always hated you, right from the start. you were too nice, too smart for your own good, and lately—you’ve been starting to get too pretty for yang jungwon to handle.
author’s note: HAPPY BDAY YANG JUNGWON WOOOOO here’s a post dedicated to my bias, the loml. this fic is entirely based off of olivia’s song “lacy”, one of my favorites off her guts album!
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Yang Jungwon thought you were the most insufferable person he met. Not only were you overly nice, but you were so smart that you got the highest scores unlike bitter Jungwon who always managed to score second place.
“I’m losing it,” Jungwon whispers underneath his breath as he lifts his paper up into the air. A big red 99 was scribbled on top of his paper.
“I don’t know why you’re so upset.” Sunghoon, a friend of Jungwon’s, took a seat next to the mess of a boy who was currently ruffling his hair in stress. “A 99 is good Wonie!”
“No it’s not,” he mumbles, placing his head against the table. “No it’s not. Song Y/N managed to get a 100 again.”
Almost as if the universe knew Jungwon was talking about you, you passed by the two boys, waving a quick hello to Sunghoon.
“Don’t wave back.” Jungwon mumbles, lifting his head up slightly to glare at Sunghoon.
“What? Why?” Sunghoon whines, eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t know why you hate her, she’s a sweetheart.”
“Look at her,” Jungwon mutters in disgust as he finally straightens his posture to look at you. “God’s favorite child—Song Y/N. Those stupid ribbons in her hair make me want to barf.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say it, but he’s ultimately very concerned for Yang Jungwon. He’s known the boy for years and it confuses him on why he hates you so much. You have been nothing but nice to the both of them since freshman year of high school.
“Why do you care so much Won?”
“I don’t.”
It’s a lie, one that Sunghoon detects from a mile away.
Yang Jungwon cares. He cares a lot. He lets his hatred of you take over his life, and it leaves him feeling miserable.
When Yang Jungwon walks into creative writing, his favorite class of the day, he is hit by the overwhelming smell of your perfume.
He’s practically memorized it by now because everytime it’d come into his presence, his nose would flare up and his body would tense. Vanilla and macadamia, of course you’d wear something like that.
You probably don’t notice—or at least Jungwon hopes you don’t notice—but he’s always staring at you, quickly looking away when you make eye contact. Sometimes, he’d huff under his breath about how ridiculous you look with your ponytail, even though Yang Jungwon knows it looks adorable on you.
Being around you was like sweet torture in the young brunette’s eyes.
“Jungwon!” You say as you make your way to him on one afternoon. “Congratulations on making it as class secretary! I knew you could do it!”
Jungwon bites the inside of his cheek, not expecting your input.
You’re too nice. You’re way way too nice to him. He thinks.
“Thanks.” He clears his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Although you were complimenting him, it felt like bullets piercing through his skin.
“I dyed my hair, do you like it?” You give him a smile, oblivious to the current crisis that Yang Jungwon was going through.
You did dye your hair. It was a bright blonde now, kind of reminding him of Regina George, you know—minus the bitch part.
“It’s… okay.” He mutters. “Listen Y/N, I have a lot of work, do you mind?”
You shake your head quickly, muttering out a small apology before taking off to find your friends.
Yang Jungwon wouldn’t ever say it out loud, but you looked dazzling in your newly dyed hair. You looked like Bardot reincarnated, and Yang Jungwon was so fucked because he knew that he couldn’t escape you wherever he’d go.
It was almost as if you were made out of Angel dust.
“Are you out to get me?” Yang Jungwon slams his hand on your table, jolting you from your work.
“What are you talking about?” You say, still putting on a smile despite being confused.
“Are you out to get me?” Jungwon feels out of breath now that he’s all up close and personal to you. “You poison everything I do!”
“What do you mean?” You frown, the feeling of sadness suddenly seeping over you. “Jungwon?”
“You know that I just loathe you lately? Do you Song Y/N?” Jungwon looks away in distress, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “My mind, it’s like I can’t get you out of it, and I don’t know what to do. I hate you—I swear I do—but I don’t know anymore! My mind practically worships you Song Y/N!”
Jungwon’s eyes widen when he realizes he’s said too much, especially when he comes in contact with your face that’s bright red in shock.
“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”
“Jungwon, it’s okay.” You take his hands into yours, rubbing it comfortingly. “I kind of knew for a while, Sunghoon told me. I know all these feelings must be confusing but you know I’m here for you regardless.” You smile at him. “I like you Yang Jungwon.”
Jungwon’s mouth goes dry, and for the first time, he can’t think of anything to insult you with. “I.. I like you too Song Y/N.”
“Finally.” Sunghoon emerges suddenly from behind you two, making Jungwon gasp in shock.
“Yah! Don’t do that hyung!” Jungwon complains, hands still holding on tightly to yours.
“Sorry, had to get my two favorite kids together.”
Yang Jungwon wasn’t sure of many things, but he was sure of 2. One: he liked you a lot, and two: he was definitely going to kill Park Sunghoon for telling you everything.
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pinkie-pop · 5 months
Text
"Do Paimons Dream of Floating Sheep?"
Mondstadt: Part I Part II Part III Part IV
Based on this
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Paimon!Reader, Genshin Impact various x Reader, Yandere Genshin Impact
Word count: 3k
Synopsis: Being dragged into the world of your favorite video game is hardly your idea of a relaxing Saturday, and being dragged into the world of your favorite game, taking over the role of mascot even less so. Unfortunately, it seems fate has no interest in what you consider to be a normal day, and it will do anything to replace your idea of normal entirely.
Includes: Fear of heights, death, vomiting, Reader straight up not having a good time
Stormterror has arrived in Mondstadt city.
You, the Traveler, and Amber run past the city gates as Stormterror lunges towards the giant statue. Three large, whistling tornados whirl to life at his command. You can clearly see the tainted blood pulsing upon his back. It seems your plan of stopping Stormterror without hassle has completely fallen apart. Of course. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. You suppose not even the Anemo Archon himself is strong enough to go against the script. 
You narrowly avoid a gust of wind that comes your way, but the Traveler isn’t so lucky. He’s swept up by the current immediately, reaching out a hand to you as if you held the power to stop it.
You don’t. 
You can’t do anything.
“Kaeya!” Amber calls, running up to the blue-haired man. The two of them begin chatting, catching each other up to speed on the situation at hand. “Kaeya, this is [Name] and Aether, and…wait, where’s Aether?” 
“He got swept uo by the storm. Look,” you say, pointing up towards him.
“He’s fighting Stormterror?” Says Amber. “But that’s so dangerous!”
“Amber, why does he have one of your windgliders?” Asks Kaeya. 
“Huh? Oh, uh…eheh…No…reason…” Amber scratches the back of her head and Kaeya raises an eyebrow. You’re pretty sure he only asked that to get a rise out of her. You pay it no mind, however, instead focusing on the battle above you. You want to help, but there’s nothing you can do. You’re not the protagonist of this story. No, you’re nothing but a mascot. You can do nothing but grit your teeth and watch.
Meanwhile…
A gust of wind picks Aether right up off of the ground, hurtling upwards towards the sky. He uses his windglider, hoping to glide down somewhere safely and reconvene with you as soon as possible. He can’t protect you from up here. 
That was his plan, but…
“I’m preventing your fall with the power of a thousand winds.” An unfamiliar voice calls out to him from beyond the clouds. He whirls around, hoping to find the source of the sound, but to no avail. 
“You can’t see me,” the voice—a male, he thinks—says. “That’s okay, just listen to my voice. They’re safe down there. I need you to trust me.” Aether nods, though he isn’t sure if the man can see him. 
“Good. Now, concentrate. See yourself grasping on the wind and harness its power.” Aether does as he’s told and gathers a huge sphere of anemo and hurls it at Stormterror. He weaves through clouds, collecting their power and directing it back towards the dragon. The wind hits a glowing, purple spot on the dragon's back and it cries out in agony.
A weak point. Good.
Aether readies more anemo, preparing to hit the same spot again when Stormterror flies upwards and out of sight, retreating. Aether doesn’t bother chasing after it. There’s no need to. Instead, he glides back down towards the city, where you, Amber, and a person he doesn’t recognize all stand around.
Amber waves Aether down as he lands, introducing him to Kaeya. “You really gave us a fright,” she says. “I can’t believe you went up against a dragon!”
“Are you okay?” You ask. “What happened up there?” 
“I heard a voice,” he said. “It told me that it prevented my fall using the ‘power of a thousand winds’.”
“Do you think it could have been Barbatos? What did the voice sound like?” You, of course, already know the answer to these questions, but you ask anyways, hoping to guide the conversation to a realization.
“It sounded like the voice of a young boy,” says Aether. “I don’t know who it was, though.”
“The power of a thousand winds, hmm?” Kaeya puts a hand up to his chin, seeming to be in deep thought. “I don’t know if the voice you heard really was Barbatos or not, but either way, I think we ought to report this to our Acting Grand Master.” 
The four of you head to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, where Jean and Lisa are there waiting for you.
“Mondstadt welcomes you, windborne travelers. I am Jean, the Acting Grand Master, and this is Lisa, our resident librarian.”
“Oh, are you two sweeties here to help us out? You’re both so adorable! Especially you, cutie,” Lisa winks at you. “Sadly, the timing is regrettable… Stormterror, or Dvalin, his true name, has been ravaging our cities as of late. The Ley Lines and elemental energy are completely out of control.” 
”Right,” Jean says. “If it weren’t for that, we would have had better ways to help you than just putting up wanted posters. We simply ask that you rest in Mondstadt while we help look for your sister.”
“Sounds good. Where’s the Inn?” You sputter as his lax response. Wasn’t the protagonist supposed to be eager to help?
“H-hey! Shouldn’t we at least offer to help out?” Aether looks at you as if to ask, ‘Why would we do that?’ “I mean, isn’t that the right thing to do? Besides, if that really was the voice of Barbatos you heard, wouldn’t he be more likely to help us if we help him first?” You say. Aether seems to ponder over this for a minute, then nods. 
“Alright. If you want to help, then let’s help.”
“Good. In that case, we’ll need a plan.” Kaeya says.
"Since Stormterror is now attacking the city directly, we may have an
opportunity to cut this problem off at the source. Lisa has revealed the sources of Stormterror's power with her magic."
"Right," Lisa says. "They're located in the abandoned Four Winds' Temples. Stormterror's ability is likely the result of it drawing its power from the temples. Our objective is to deal with three of the four temples.
"I trust everyone understands why we are only dealing with three." Jean looks around for confirmation, and everyone, save for Aether, nods their head.
"I don't," says the Traveler.
"Dvalin is the last of the four winds," you explain.
"Knights of Favonius," Everyone seems to stand at even greater attention as Jean addresses them. "Time is against us. We need to take the initiative and act before the situation gets even worse. There is no point in maintaining a defensive position."
•~•~•~•~•~•
You and the Traveler arrive at the Temple of The Falcon where Amber is waiting for you. 
"[Name]! Traveler! It's good to see you," she says as you approach. The three of you exchange greetings, and Amber fills you in on the mission. 
"These temples have been abandoned for years now, so there might be a monster nest inside. [Name], you can't fight, right? Don't worry, just leave it to me! I'll protect you!" 
"Me too," says Aether. You smile at them.
"Alright, I'm counting on you. Let's head in." Aether and Amber nod, and the three of you enter the temple.
The temple is more or less how you remember it (though, to be perfectly honest, you hardly remember it at all), a decrepit building with an open ceiling showcasing the "sky" above. There's a pyro mechanism shooting fire to your left and a few boxes to your right. Amber shoots the mechanism to put it out of commission, then you and your party head left. 
A Door of Resurrection activates as you walk past it, and you find yourself wondering what would happen if someone were to die here. The door indicates that they would come back, just like in a video game, but there's no way to know for sure.
Unless…
No. You can live with not knowing. You hope you never have to find out.
Amber and Aether make quick work of the rooms while you stand back and try to stay out of the way. It isn’t long at all before you end up in the third or fourth room. That on its own is hardly anything notable, but this room is different from the others. 
In the previous rooms, you could see the “sky” above you, but you had no way of knowing whether it was real or not. Did the domain create its own sky? Was it a pocket dimension? You had no way to know for certain. 
Until now, that is. 
You stare out into the sea of clouds before you, your feet planted firmly on a floating pedestal in the sky, and at once, you know. This is the truth behind the domains. They are not just old ruins, they are gateways. Portals to another world. 
Perhaps you can find your own world through these as well…
You are brought out of your musings by an arrow shooting its way past you and popping the anemo slime in front of you. Then, two more, and again, more slimes fall, each creating a wind current upwards. Amber and the Traveler both outstretch their hands to you, windgliders already at the ready.
“Let’s glide together!” They say in unison, then turn around to glare at the other. Though you feel a little awkward about taking sides, you eventually take Amber’s hand and allow her to carry you. She is the champion glider of Mondstadt, after all. You trust her experience. You don’t look at Aether when you take her hand, you know you wouldn’t be able to bear his hurt face if you did.
The three of you set off into the air, and you try not to look down. Unfortunately, the view upwards is hardly any less nervewracking. You see a large anemo slime off in the distance, heading straight towards you. Amber can’t shoot it while she’s carrying you, and Aether is too far away to hit it with his sword. It is all you can do to brace for impact as the slime shoots wind your way, knocking you from Amber’s hold.
You fall, but only for a moment. Something catches you.
No, that’s not quite right. Nothing catches you. You catch yourself. You’re flying. It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating. Amber and Aether are both gaping at you as you twirl around in the air. Perhaps this new body isn’t so bad after all. 
You fly up to the top platform, then start to get dizzy, so you lower yourself to the floor. 
“I thought you were afraid of heights,” Amber teased, gliding up to you.
“This is different,” you huff. “At least when I’m flying, I can control where I’m going. You can’t do that with a windglider at all!” 
“I suppose that’s true,” Amber laughs. “Still, though, that really surprised me. I had no idea you could fly.” 
“You’re not the only one,” Aether chimes in. 
“I actually didn’t know I could do that either.” You say. 
Finally, you arrive in the room where Stormterror’s crystal is. It doesn’t take long for Aether to destroy it with the power of anemo while Amber gives support and you watch. 
•~•~•~•~•~•
You and the Traveler arrive at the Temple of The Wolf, where Kaeya is waiting for you. 
“Ah, [Name], it’s good to see you. You too, Traveler.” You think Kaeya is trying to wink, but there’s really no way to be sure. Either way, his flirtatious tone has Aether glaring. You have a feeling this raid is going to be exhausting, and not just physically. “Come closer. Can you smell that?” Kaeya says, gesturing to the two of you.
“Uh…smell what?” You ask. 
“Something has happened in the temple. I imagine there’ll be slimes, hilichurls, and whatever is giving Stormterror that power. Ah, don’t worry about the fighting, [Name], your friend and I will take care of that.” Perhaps it’s just his voice, but there’s something oddly gleeful in his tone that sets you off.
“I’m not some damsel, you know?!”
You smile and nod, but you don’t say anything. The three of you head off into the domain, where another series of challenges await you. 
Another Door of Resurrection bursts to life in front of you, and it occurs to you that no one commented on the last one. Perhaps it’s something only you can see..? You open your mouth to ask, but Kaeya speaks up first.
“Hm, if I’m not mistaken, the end of the temple should be up there.” You look up. Above you is a large platform in the sky where, like Kaeya guessed, lies the end of the temple. You’re trying to figure out how to get a wind current to take you up there when an idea strikes you.
Right. How could you have forgotten?
“Leave it to me!” You say, glad to finally have something to do. You crack your knuckles, bracing yourself for flight. How did this go again? Right, first you need to lift off, then…
You did it! You’re flying! You look down, excited to see the look on Kaeya’s face when…
You look down. Oh. Oh wow. The ground sure is far. Were you always this high up? You start to feel nauseous. You hear Aether’s voice, but it sounds so far away. The room is spinning; you’re seeing double. Is the ground getting bigger or are you getting closer? 
Dizziness overtakes you, and you fall head-first into the stone flooring. You feel pain shoot up from your neck down to the base of your spine, but only for a moment. 
“Hm, if I’m not mistaken, the end of the temple should be up there.”
Huh..?
You blink, looking around dumbly as confusion washes over you. Green light pulses from behind you.
Could it be? You whip around, staring at the Door of Resurrection as if it would grow a mouth and tell you the answers. But it doesn’t. It doesn’t even need to. You already know.
You just died. But the Door saved you. 
“[Name]? We really ought to get a move on. What are you spacing out for?” Kaeya’s voice tears you away from your thoughts.
“I…I’m afraid of heights. I’m sorry, but I can’t go up there. I’ll wait for you down here.” Aether looks at you, clearly worried but unsure of what to say. 
“At least when I’m flying, I can control where I’m going. You can’t do that with a windglider at all!”
You try to smile at Aether, urging him to go on despite his worries.
At least when I’m flying…
Aether, after much hesitation, leaves with Kaeya. They’ll make quick work of the temple, you’re sure. Perhaps even quicker than they would have with you around. 
I can control where I’m going.
You let out a sigh as you sink to the floor.
Nothing else happens.
•~•~•~•~•~•
You and the Traveler arrive at the Temple of The Lion, where Lisa is waiting for you.
“Hey there, cuties. Good to see you—especially you, [Name].” Lisa winks at you, leaving you a bit puzzled. Her words seem to have put Aether in a bad mood. Well, you wouldn’t be happy if someone called you their second favorite, either. Still exhausted from the last temple, you merely wave to Lisa, hoping to get this temple over with as soon as possible. “Is everyone ready?” She asks. You nod. 
“I hope this trip is uneventful,” you murmur. The doors open, and the three of you step inside. You allow your mind to wander as you follow behind the others. Normally, it’d be a bad idea to be so absent-minded in a domain, but…
Well, what’s the worst that could happen? 
You shuffle along through the hallways as Aether and Lisa take care of any nearby threats. As suspected, they really didn’t need you here. Well, that’s okay. You’re fine with being useless so long as it means you can rest. 
Aether slashes another hilichurl with his sword, and for a moment, you imagine yourself in its place. You wonder what it would feel like to die from an injury like that. Surely, it can’t be pleasant. Would it be worse than the stomach-dropping sensation of falling from a great height? Would it be worse than a broken neck? You aren’t sure. More hilichurls fall to the ground. It isn’t like the game. They don’t just disintegrate when they die. They bleed when they’re hit, their corpses don’t disappear. There’s no XP or rewards to be found here. Only bloodshed. Only death.
This whole temple reeks of iron. You cover your nose and mouth, but the stench doesn’t go away.
You don’t think you can take any more of this. You turn and run down the nearest hall, heaving and retching when you arrive in the next room over. You can hardly hear it over your own vomiting, but the sound of stone rolling across stone comes from behind you. You glance back down the hall, only to see it replaced with a solid stone wall.
Fuck.
You bang your hands on the wall and yell for help, but you succeed in nothing except for making your voice tired and your hands bruised. You might be here for a while, so you look around.
The room is square, and completely empty aside from a pedestal in the center (one that you really should have noticed earlier), upon which rests a glowing book of some sort. The cover is lined with gold, and it looks as though it holds the galaxy between its twinkling pages. 
You walk closer to it, hoping to get a better look. The book opens itself before you, and at once, you recognize it.
It’s the Archive.
Taglist: @shadowkitty-me @probablynoposts @kissyhalik @persephone-kore-law @neverending-animelove @crxscnt @teravolting @resident-cryptid @esthelily @shellofthewall @dilucragnidvr @altheq0 @wegottastayfocus @jellothefool @c0l1fl0r @francisnyx @imma-just-chill @fantasyhopperhea @iamapotatoe @utahimechan
1K notes · View notes
cowboyellies · 7 months
Text
- You’re Not Good Enough | e.w.
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you keep on coming back,
i keep letting you in
pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader
warnings/themes: angst, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight smut, heavy making out (in public), fingering r! receiving, mentions of oral sex r! receiving
word count: 3.8k
synopsis: ellie ends things with you and quickly finds that the hold you have on her is much stronger than she thought. when she sees you a month later at a house party she tries to change things.
a/n: hello!!! i'm pretty proud of this so I hope you guys enjoy :) also this is based off of one of my favorite songs so I recommend listening to it while you read
PART TWO
“I think we should call it” she said as your eyes were glued to your phone, aimlessly scrolling while laying on her beat up couch. you switched off your phone directing your attention to her, confused by her question. you noticed then she was sitting with her head in her hands, gripping the roots of her short auburn hair.
“what?” you asked meekly, sitting up now. you already knew what she meant but you needed to make sure anyway.
“I just think we should probably stop whatever this is, it’s too much for right now,” she mumbled to the floor, still not making eye contact with you. you felt your heart drop suddenly and the familiar prickle hitting your eyes. you had felt so secure just moments ago, so comfortable, now you just felt an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. you were embarrassed over the fact that this was all a shock to you.
earlier in the night as you laid naked in her bed you realized you were probably falling in love with her. you thought in that moment as you breathed heavily next to each other that she was feeling the same way. now come to find out that she was probably already planning on ending it then. the sex that you thought was the start of something deeper was just her final goodbye to you, that’s why it felt so fucking good.
looking at her now with her body slumped over in tiredness you thought back to the way she phrased it. “we should call it” as if it was a group effort. as if she wasn’t the one dumping you. you had been dumped once before and they had used the same phrasing that she did. that first time you begged and pleaded with them to reconsider. you cried at their feet begging for one more chance, willing them to change their mind and stay. as you stared at ellie’s slouched over frame you remembered the painful embarrassment you felt begging for someone who didn’t want you back.
that bitter memory is what stopped the tears from falling out of your eyes. you let out a hardened sigh and stood up from the couch. “okay, if that’s what you want,”
ellie looked up suddenly, shocked by the casualty of your tone. she was bracing herself for the screaming, the last thing she ever expected from you was compliance. she had completed this cycle with girls before and the fallout was always a mix of yelling and lots of tears, a few had even thrown things. she could have sworn she heard your voice wavering just moments ago but now you seemed fine.
“what?” she questioned. genuinely not prepared for this level of calm.
“I said okay? if that’s what you want I can’t change that,” she was looking at you closely now. your face was hard but not necessarily mad. you looked like an entirely different person than the girl that was laughing on her bed just an hour before. the you standing in front of her now looked miles away.
once you realized she wasn’t saying anything else you began collecting your things you had left around her apartment. in your last breakup amongst the crying and dramatics you had left your favorite hoodie there and you didn’t want that to happen again. ellie followed you to the doorway of her bedroom where you were now grabbing your belongings, her eyes following you still in shock. you felt satisfaction from the way you were rattling her but most of you was just moving on autopilot, shutting your feelings off until you were away from her apartment and could finally burst.
once you had shoved everything of yours into a bag you made your way to the door. as your hand was on the knob you felt ellie’s on your shoulder, the feeling of her touch grounding you back into what was happening, causing your body to stiffen.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. you were feeling it all now, the weight of it was starting to crush you and you feared if you turned to face her you would start crying for real that time. so instead of replying you opened the door and left, letting out heavy sobs as you walked to your car.
ellie stood at the doorway for a while after you left, mulling over everything that had just happened. she knew this was her ideal scenario. she could never have dreamed of a smoother break. especially when she knew you were both starting to develop intense feelings for each other, which was the reason she ended things in the first place. she knew she should feel relief now but the look on your face was haunting her. she realized then that she had taken away your softness. instead of feeling the freedom she desired she now felt an insurmountable wave of guilt.
over a month after you and ellie’s breakup, if you could even call it that, you now find yourself sitting on a couch at a crowded house party flirting with a random girl. you had wallowed in the pain of ellie ending things for a solid two weeks and had recently decided you finally needed to get back to being a functioning member of society. after your last break up you didn’t go out for six months afterwards and you were determined to break that cycle.
so now here you were in your little black dress and denim jacket listening to this girl talk about a concert she had just gone too while you made prolonged and flirty eye contact with her. this was new territory since in all of your past relationships you tended to be the girl blabbering away about something instead of being the one pretending to listen. this time around you were going to make sure you wouldn’t be the one getting naively attached.
ellie stood sourly outside of the party dreading whatever would meet her behind those doors. dina had practically forced her to come out tonight and she had absolutely no desire to be there. she expected herself to resume her usual role in casual hookup culture but something had been stopping her.
she had decided to end things with you when one day she realized you were the first thing she thought of when she woke up in the morning. it was a random tuesday and when she checked the clock she remembered you said you had class at that time. that immediate correlation to you was such a foreign feeling that it terrified her. she wasn’t used to caring for anyone but herself and hadn’t been in a long time. she found herself missing the comfortableness of fucking someone and never calling them again. she assumed that's what she’d be doing after you left her apartment that night but found she couldn’t.
in the month that you’d been apart she had done the unthinkable for her. she found herself drafting texts to you and not sending them. she hovered over your number multiple times toying with the thought of calling you but never doing it. she even made it a habit of stalking your instagram. she saw one night you went to a club with your friends and she felt strangely nauseous. she hated it. she hated being the stalker when she was so used to being the one being stalked. it made her loathe you and miss you all the same.
she finally made her way into the house immediately heading towards the liquor table. she knew she needed to alter her brain chemistry quickly if she was ever gonna make it through the night. after downing a drink she turned her head to look for dina and suddenly heard a sound she was all too familiar with.
you were still sitting on the couch but now you were just centimeters away from the random girl. you let out a loud giggle over something she said but you weren’t sure if you actually thought it was funny or if you just wanted to get in her pants. the answer to that question didn’t really matter because you suddenly felt her hand resting on your leg and knew you had succeeded. she slowly leans towards the side of your face adjusting your hair to whisper in your ear “I’m gonna get us some more drinks”
you smile softly at her and nod your head as she rises towards the kitchen. your eyes trail her hungrily when suddenly she brushes past a figure that quickly catches your attention. ellie's standing there tightly gripping her red solo cup staring at you. her jaw is lightly clenched in the way it does when she's mad but trying not to show it. you feel your posture stiffen from it’s previously relaxed position and all the carefree charisma you had been trying to channel all night is instantly sucked out of you.
after a minute of intense eye contact she begins making her way to the couch. your fight or flight kicks in and suddenly you began pulling yourself off of it. you instantly don't care at all about the cute girl in the kitchen pouring you a drink, you want to get out of there now. ellie picks up on your movement and begins following you outside. after making your way through the house you realize you won't be able to get away from her without causing a scene so you eventually decide to just stop in a more reserved part of the backyard, landing the two of you under an oak tree.
“what do you want?” you immediately ask her as soon as she reaches you. the tone of your voice isn't mad, just tired, and it kills her. she would rather you be angry, she wants you to be angry. she just stands for a while trying to think of what to say
“I just… I just wanted to talk,” she finally settles on. she knows it sounds lame but it's the truth. you sigh in resignation, leaning your back against the trunk of the tree while she figures out what to say to you. she isn't used to chasing people and doesn't know how to do it without sounding like a desperate loser. before she ended things you seemed to always be at her beck and call, now you want nothing to do with her. she leans her hand on the wood next to your shoulder, staring down at you before she speaks again, your eyes shifting downward in response, trying to avoid any level of intimacy with her you can. “I guess I just miss you and I want to see how you’re doing,”
you let out a dry laugh which catches her off guard. you finally look up at her and see her eyebrows furrowed in confusion which starts to bring some of your anger to the surface. “I’m doing great ellie. actually I was doing amazing till you decided to interrupt my night with this stupid conversation,” your tone now annoyed as opposed to your indifference from earlier.
“yeah it sure looked like you were having fun in there,” she replies harshly as her jaw tightens like it did earlier when she was watching you.
“what the fuck are you you talking about?” you snap, now staring directly in her eyes. you see in your peripheral vision a couple from a few feet away begin to stare but you're getting too heated to care.
“I heard your fake little laugh from the kitchen. were you gonna fuck her and then fake an orgasm too?” she's inching closer to you now, her grip tightening on the tree.
“are you seriously jealous right now? you realize you’re the one who dumped me, right?” you feel like your head is gonna explode in frustration. you had spent weeks trying to get over her and now she has the audacity to be angry about it.
“which clearly didn’t matter to you at all. does that girl in there know how emotionally closed off you are?” she pushes, remembering how distant you looked standing in front of her in her living room that day.
“are you fucking kidding me? do you realize how insane it is to be upset at someone for not crying when you dump them? have you lost your fucking mind?” you're fully yelling now, not caring about the people around the yard sneaking glances at the two of you. “and if anyone is emotionally unavailable it’s you. I should never have started something with you in the first place,”
ellie knows she's in the wrong. she knows everything you're saying is valid and she has no right to be talking to you right now. she should be leaving you alone to get over her but instead she wants to get under your skin some more and eventually beneath your clothes. she’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to calm down. she’s still staring down at you now watching the way your chest rises and falls as with your breaths you try to calm yourself down.
“look I know I'm a piece of shit, alright?” you roll your eyes at her, adjusting yourself into a cross armed position.
“I’m glad we’re in agreement ellie. are we done here?” you begin to straighten yourself to walk away when she pushes her other hand on the tree, closing you in. you'd normally freak out and push past her but something about her movements are weirdly gentle and the tequila shots you had taken earlier are starting to lower your guard.
“I treated you like shit and I regret it. just let me make it up to you okay?” you're staring up at her through your eyelashes now in a slight pout. your face looks so gentle that she moves to brush a lock of hair out of your face. you hate yourself for it but you lean into her touch. you know her words mean nothing and could never mend everything that happened between you two. but it's late, you're lonely, and you highly doubt that girl would still be inside if you push ellie away.
before you can stop yourself you're grabbing ellie by the back of her neck and kissing her. it takes her no time to kiss back, quickly grabbing your waist and pushing the two of you up against the oak. as her hands explored your sides you feel all the self respect and awareness leave your body. you're no longer acknowledging how gravely stupid you're acting and instead are focusing on how good it feels when she kisses your neck.
as she inches her hands past your dress and up your thighs suddenly the reality sets it, you're very much still in public. you look over her shoulder and quickly realize the people who had seen you screaming at each other moments ago can most definitely still see you now. you quickly push her off of you, readjusting your clothes as she stares at you in confusion. when you're done fixing yourself you point to the rest of the back yard in explanation.
she groans a little and you almost want to laugh at how frustrated she looks, her expression the same as a petulant child when you take away their favorite toy. you gently pull at her shirt and whisper “let’s just go back to your place,”
ellie has never been more happy to be sober as she drives you two back to her apartment in your car, a possessive hand resting on your upper thigh as she steers. the reality of what you're doing was starting to set in during the 15 minute drive. you think about telling her just to drive you home multiple times but when you go to stare at her the sight of her makes the words hang vacant in your mouth. why does she have to be so attractive?
she finds herself also sneaking glances at you during the ride. she didn't realized till then how much she missed the simplicity of your presence in the passenger seat. when you two were together previously you didn’t exactly go out on dates or anything. a typical night for you two was driving to a fast food place, fighting over the aux, making out in her car, going back to her place, smoking a little, and then ending off the night fucking. as much as she hated to admit it in the month you were apart she found herself longing for that routine again.
when you reach her apartment building as she moves to exit the car you feel yourself lingering in your seat for longer, contemplating stopping this for the last time. you stare up at the gray brick of her complex and remember how alone you felt exiting her building that day, your tears dampening the clothes you had taken back from her. although this memory should be be a reminder of how she hurt you, instead it makes you get up from your seat. you don't want that to be the last memory you had of here.
you make your way through the empty common place and soon reach her elevator. as soon as the metal doors shut her lips are on yours. you feel the cool metal of the elevator’s handrails pressing into your back as she pushes her body towards you. her hands are in your hair lightly tugging at the back of your head as you grasp onto her neck, wrapping your legs around hers. you hear the ding of the doors and she quickly grabs your hand to lead you to her place.
as soon as you're in her apartment doors she's pushing you towards the couch, articles of clothing coming off of the both of you as you make your way to the plush cushions. you're staring up at her the top half of you naked as she’s removing her shirt when the irony sets in. she's about to fuck you on the couch she had just dumped you on
you move to inch the rest of your dress which is gathered at your hips down when you feel her tug it off of you in one fast movement. she watches as your chest rises and falls once again but this time in anticipation. she quickly grips the back of the couch above you as she begins spreading your legs apart with one hand. you gasp as she reaches your panties, rubbing slow circles into them as she plants heavy kisses onto your neck.
after a few seconds your gasps intensify and she begins pulling the fabric down your legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her. your eyes grip shut in pleasure and shyness as she brings her hand back up against you. you feel her stop suddenly as she uses the hand previously resting on the couch to bring your face towards her.
“look up at me,” she firmly whispers as she resumes rubbing into you, her calloused fingers brushing up against your clit as you writhe in pleasure, now staring into her green heavy eyes. you feel her fingers slide into you slowly, quickening pace as you moan beneath her. your eyes follow her as she lowers herself towards you, using her other hand to grip your hips which were now moving with her fingers. you feel your orgasm beginning to build as she starts using her thumb to rub circles against your clit.
as you reach your peak you finally allow yourself to close your eyes, riding the high against her long fingers you had been fantasizing about since you saw her gripping her cup earlier in the night. once you finish she slowly pulls out of you, admiring you as you pant against her couch cushions. once your euphoria wears off theres an awkward pause. I should probably go.
“I-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by one of her hands raking through your hair, which was now slightly damp with sweat.
“let’s go to my bed i wanna taste you,” she whispers and then pushes herself off the couch towards her bedroom. fuck it
you follow
you awake the next morning and the only word that comes to your mind is fuck. you're laying completely bare and under ellie’s sheets, her back turned against you in a peaceful slumber.
why the fuck did i do that? what is wrong with me?
as you contemplate just how little self respect you seem to have you feel her shift beside you, facing you with a light smile. you hate how good she always looks in the mornings.
“morning,” she mumbles against your shoulder sleepily. you need to get out of there now. after a few moments you begin to sit up, gripping the sheets around your chest as you try to recall where you had flung all your clothes the night before. she's more awake now and staring at you.
“what’s up? do you wanna get bagels from that place across the street?” she asks, still examining your facial expressions trying to read what they mean. you used to go the bagel place all the time when you would stay at her place.
“ellie no,” you reply, rising from her bed and making your way towards the living room in search of your clothes. she quickly follows, throwing on a large shirt she had laying on the floor of her bedroom as she watches you in amusement while you're picking up your garments one by one across her apartment.
“why not?” she muses, the casualty of her voice driving you insane.
“because. this isn’t a thing,” you say, quickly throwing on your clothes and gesturing between the two of you. “this won’t happen again,”
“why not? you seemed to enjoy it last night?”
“that’s besides the point okay,” you snap back in exasperation, now frustrated and trying to find one of your shoes. “you’re not good for me. no actually you’re not good enough for me,” “and why is that?” she asks, not offended in the slightest bit which makes you even more angry.
“you fucking know why. you never have been. this has never been more than sex to you and i'm tired of it,” you spit out as you finally grab the missing shoe. that last part makes ellie pause. deep down she knows it's not just sex for her, and in fucked up way she's glad that you haven't picked up on that yet.
“oh don’t act like you’re above that, were you ever gonna talk to that girl you were all over on the couch last night or does the line only draw at casual sex when it comes to me?” she snaps back at you, no longer amused by the back and forth between you.
she's right, you weren’t planning on ever seeing that girl again. but what she didn’t realize was the fact that you were acting that way because of her. how could you be expected to commit to something when your last fling disposed of you like you were nothing?
“I’m leaving now. please don’t text me,”
she rolls her eyes at you as you make your way towards her door. “yeah sure. I’ll see you soon,”
you slam the door in her face, knowing it's probably true.
PART TWO
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taexual · 7 months
Text
sleepwalking ● 1 | jjk
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summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers / fluff / angst / smut (in later chapters)
warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN
words: 7.5k
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chapter 1 ► when i open my eyes to the future, i can hear you say my name
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There was virtually not a single person left on the entire fourth floor of the company building, despite it being a Monday afternoon. Normally, two other managers worked in offices adjacent to yours, so the noise in the hallways never settled below a pleasant hum: producers, promoters, and publicists – the three cursed Ps – shuffled in and out, heels clicking urgently against the marble floor.
This funeral silence was unusual, but you knew it was only a calm before the storm.
Rated Riot were going on their first-ever European tour in two days to promote their sophomore album – named aptly, “ready, set, RIOT” – and today was the final day of meetings. Evidently, the executives at Jett Records assumed that the band deserved to have a whole floor to themselves, so everyone else got a half-day, leaving you and the Floor Administrator, Rue, all by yourselves until the band got here.
This unsettling silence was exactly why you heard them arrive as soon as the door of the building opened four floors below. Rated Riot lived up to their name by making themselves heard before they were seen.
As soon as the sharp ding! of the elevator reached you in your office—your door was always open on meeting days, because the four members of one of the most promising rock bands in the world at the moment lacked any sense of direction—you could immediately feel the atmosphere lighten, the previous silence long gone.
“Rue! The apple of my eye!” Hoseok, the drummer and the de facto mood setter of Rated Riot, exclaimed as you listened to the familiar sounds of the band as they exited the elevator and, based on the repeated clicking of shoes in the lobby, momentarily got disoriented.
“Always looking good, Rue!” Jungkook, the vocalist, as well as the new Golden Boy of Jett Records followed after.
“Good to see you again,” Taehyung, the always well-mannered bassist, said. Silence followed and you assumed he shook Rue’s hand.
“Hello,” Yoongi, who was, technically, the guitarist of the band, but, really, played any instrument he could get his hands on, was the last to speak. He’d always been very well-spoken in songwriting, but quieter and more careful in most everyday conversations.
“Welcome, guys,” Rue greeted them. You couldn’t see any of them from where your office was located, but you’ve been in a similar situation countless times before and you could imagine what was happening without needing to witness it first-hand.
Rue would stand up from her seat and point her right hand down the hallway, reminding them—yet again—that they needed to walk down the hall and take a right turn. The members of Rated Riot, in turn, would walk down the hall. At least one of the four of them would turn left instead, causing a pause as the group gathered back together, exchanging confused glances. Then, they would turn back to Rue—who would still be standing there, her right hand extended like a helpful Statue of Liberty. They’d laugh at themselves, nod at Rue, and take the correct turn.
If things were going well, they’d find your office on first try—they’d just need to find the open door and peer inside; your desk was right in front. More often than not, however, they stumbled around, knocking and chuckling to themselves as they continuously interrupted the offices of everyone else, but you.
They were special. Not just because they looked like loose ducklings, separated from the Mother Duck, whenever they entered the company building, but also because, in spite of their own lack of coordination, they still managed to get things done.
And they brightened the day of everyone they came across. Which was almost ironic—as you realised by watching the four of them enter your office—considering the effortless rockstar aura that surrounded them.
Jungkook walked in first. That was typical because he usually did: sometimes because he was the only one who remembered where your office was, but usually because the other members offered him as a sacrificial lamb when they went knocking around every office on the floor in search of yours.
He was dressed in all-black—always—adorned with silver chains and necklaces that often gave you a start when you looked up, because he had a very specific way of entering the room: he seemed to make sure to position himself in just a way that the light, coming in from the window behind you, always reflected off his jewellery and momentarily blinded you.
Sure enough, you blinked, cringing into yourself as the brightness hit your eyes, and when you opened them again, he was already grinning.
“Hi,” he said and the rest of the members followed in after him—a brighter palette of colours.
Even Yoongi, who was the only one who could have given Jungkook a run for his money if you had to count which one had more black items of clothing in their closet, was wearing a beige, loosely buttoned shirt.
Despite that, however, you could tell they were rock artists as soon as you looked at them—all tattoos, piercings, intense eye make-up behind sunglasses, and old band tees—and you stood up, excited to let them know that, finally, every last loose thread had been found and tightened. They’d get to introduce their artistry on a different continent, and you’d make sure it’d go smoothly.
“We’re leaving for Prague tomorrow morning,” you told them once the five of you settled down at the round table in the back of your office. “So, if you were planning a going away party, I strongly advise against it.”
“We weren’t,” Yoongi said, lifting his glass of lemon water—there was a jug on the table—and giving you a reassuring look. “This is the strongest drink I’m having tonight.”
“Thanks,” you said paradoxically enough, but being grateful when the members of the band you managed didn’t get drunk before an important day was part of the job. “I’d also appreciate it if—”
“Hold on a second, though,” Jungkook interrupted—you’d been anticipating it. “I’m going to a gig tonight, Reconnaissance are in town again. And there’s obviously an after-party—”
Despite Reconnaissance being, arguably, one of the most popular rock bands in the world right now, you were definite when you cut him off, “No.”
“—so, I—wait. No?” he paused. “I never miss their shows, you know that. And I don’t get drunk easily. You know that, too.”
“That’s why you drink so much,” you rebutted. The rest of the band members got their phones out, knowing well enough at this point that this would take a while. “And then I have to come get you out of trouble.”
“You absolutely do not have to do that,” Jungkook insisted. “We’ve been through this.”
“Have we?” you argued. “Because I keep telling you it’s my job to keep you from passing out in a dirty bar bathroom, but you don’t care enough to hear me.”
“Well, you’re not very convincing. What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll wake up again.”
You were used to having this conversation with him—you’ve argued about this way before he became a singer and you ended up as his manager. And yet, the lax way he said this made you clench your fists.
Despite being mostly introverted, Jungkook did enjoy getting drinks with friends: even if said friends enjoyed his celebrity status more than they enjoyed the drinks.
“And if you don’t?” you threatened. “Rated Riot’s vocalist gets his stomach pumped. A catchy headline.”
“Yeah, man,” Hoseok interjected, putting his phone screen down on the table and crossing his arms. “Doesn’t go well with the vibe we’re going for. Don’t get your stomach pumped.”
“Fine, I—”
“What he meant was, don’t drink so much that you’d need your stomach pumped,” you clarified because Jungkook moonlighted as a Loophole Finder.
“I never have!” he insisted. “Seriously, you treat me like I’m still nineteen. Have some faith.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other members of the group look up from their phones. The band had only formed a few years ago, so you were the only person in this room who knew what Jungkook was like when he was nineteen. You never spoke about it – that was likely why everyone was so curious.
In any case, Jungkook was wrong. You did have faith—that’s why you spent so many of your off-duty nights driving down deserted streets to pick him up after his asshole friends convinced him it was a good idea to try the biker bar on the outskirts of town, and he’d gotten in an altercation with a burly redneck that was twice his size.
There was no time for that now, not when he was supposed to be on stage in Prague in three days.
“Well,” Taehyung spoke up. “I was thinking of going to the show as well. Not so much the after-party, I have better plans. But, uh, I could come, after all.”
You appreciated the offer, but you knew that these better plans involved him spending time with his girlfriend, Luna, who was going to join him for a few weeks of the European tour, but after that, the two of them were going to be apart for several months.
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, not trying very much to hide the hopeful undertones in your voice. Jungkook’s friends felt intimidated by all the members of Rated Riot; they’d be on their best behaviour if Taehyung was there.
“No, I think it might be fun,” Taehyung said. You exhaled quietly and he could sense your gratitude without words. He turned to his younger bandmate. “Should we go together?”
Jungkook groaned and mumbled under his breath, “not if I have to third-wheel again.”
“When have you ever third-wheeled anyone?” you asked rhetorically, but he was already opening his mouth to reply. Quickly, you added, “be careful, is what I’m saying, okay? I am complaining about having to pick you up from all kinds of holes, but if you need me to bring NDAs, I will bring them. So, ask.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but chose to stay quiet. He knew better now – the one time he did not make anyone sign a non-disclosure agreement after an impromptu, drunken busking session in New York, pictures of him, half-dressed and giving a lap dance to a random, equally as drunk, groupie, were on every rock page on Instagram. Accompanied with detailed retellings of how it came to happen, of course; all of them more ridiculous than the next. Your personal favourite story was that he was recruiting members for a sex cult.
“We’ll call you,” Taehyung gave you a nod, “if we have to.”
“Perfect,” you said, glancing at Jungkook again, even though expecting him to confirm that he, too, would call you if he had to, was wishful thinking.
Every time you reminded him how he needed to start going out with a less destructive crowd, he’d treat his phone like a poisonous snake – and he’d been doing that even before you became his manager. His friends seemed to get their pleasure fix from watching you arrive and rip him a new one, so they were the ones who called you most of the time, always laughing into their phones like true accomplices.
It was funny how Jungkook was the only one who passed out or got so wasted, he ended up on a ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. His friends always walked away unscathed and, usually, only called you by the time they were back in their bedrooms – “when we left, he was ordering mint and honey daiquiris, you should probably go over there and check up on him.”
It was like they loved pushing him into danger and purposefully bringing the two of you together again, and Jungkook either didn’t realise or didn’t care anymore. It’s been a while, after all.
You and Jungkook had been broken up for two years when you got the unbelievable offer to manage an up-and-coming rock band. This was two years ago now and you were only twenty-four back then. Up until that point, you had worked as an assistant manager for various indie artists, so that offer was massive.
You figured the downside that your ex-boyfriend happened to be in this particular band was worth it, considering the huge leap in your career you’d make by accepting this job.
And, for the most part (excluding the first two months that were pure chaos of repressed feelings), you and Jungkook both made this work, drawing a strict line between your relationship before Rated Riot (back when he still had your phone number saved as “❌”) and after he met you again as Rated Riot’s new manager (ironically, now your name on his phone was “❌❌❌”).
You’ve managed Rated Riot for almost exactly two years now, and if you’d asked the band – which you wouldn’t, partially out of humbleness, but also because you were scared – you’d know that they loved working with you as much as you loved working with them. So, in the end, it all really had been worth it.
“Check your emails for the descriptive itineraries,” you continued smoothly enough. The guys at the table put their phones down and returned their attention to you. “Now, who else is coming with us?”
Technically, the band wasn’t supposed to bring anyone – the label was explicitly clear about that. They wanted the first European tour to go “without a hitch” (meaning, without distractions), but you held a more liberal view here.
You didn’t think loved ones coming on the road were a distraction; if anything, they were a firm support mechanism that made touring easier for the artists.
“I know Luna’s staying until the Barcelona show, yeah?” you asked, double-checking the notes on your laptop.
Taehyung nodded, a small smile on his lips at the mention of the girl. “She flies out the next day, yeah.”
“Okay. Who else?”
“Well, Sid and Jude are coming,” Jungkook spoke up and, after seeing your eyes roll back, added, quieter, “and Minjun isn’t sure.”
The three musketeer-wannabes – Sid, Jude, and Minjun – were on speed dial on your work and personal phones, because if Rated Riot had a performance and the vocalist wasn’t there, it was likely those three who were to blame. They were the only ones who knew Jungkook longer than you did, and they seemed to take pride in the fact that they had successfully been causing you headaches for seven years now.
“Sid and Jude,” you repeated, “aren’t worried they’ll lose their jobs if they travel to Europe abruptly?”
“No, they’re cool,” Jungkook shrugged, not catching the mockery in your voice. “I’ll text Minjun right now. Maybe he’ll come when we’re in Poland…”
“I needed confirmation by last week,” you reminded him. “At the latest.”
He glanced at you from his phone and then went back to texting. “So, why’d you ask now?”
“To double-check,” you said. “They’re going to have to book the hotels themselves. Or sleep on the street. Honestly, I don’t really—”
“So, uh,” Yoongi interrupted before another argument could begin, “how many hotels this time?”
“Prague, Amsterdam, and Paris. And, depending on flight time, maybe two nights in London,” you said with an apologetic smile. “Bring your favourite blankets. We’re living on buses for the next three months.”
None of them minded – if anything, you could see a little glitter in their eyes as they listened to you. Being on the road and having to sleep on the tour bus every night was an experience they’d missed. They hadn’t gone on an actual tour in almost a year – as someone who thrived on live performances, they had obviously missed this.
Really, you’ve missed it, too. Rated Riot may have been a riot to look after as their manager – pun fully intended – especially on tour, but they were your riot to deal with.
You liked your job and the challenges that came with it, because, in the end, you overcame most of them: starting with your previous relationship with Jungkook (no one in the band had a problem with it, and the label miraculously seemed not to know about it) and ending with your relatively young age (Jungkook was the only one who had a problem with you being his age, but he had a problem with almost everything).
Hopefully, one day you’d manage to overcome the challenge that was getting Jungkook to open his eyes and realise that the people he surrounded himself with were more groupies than his friends. But all in due time.
“If you have questions,” you said as the meeting approached its’ conclusion, “go right ahead.”
“Wake-up calls,” Yoongi said. “Any possibility of arranging those?”
You smiled – this had been traditional practice ever since you started to work with them.
“I’ll call,” you said and then remembered a particularly frustrating way in which this had backfired. You added, “and keep you on the phone until you’re out of bed.”
Back when you were an assistant manager to a different band, this had been your main task. And, you supposed, if Rated Riot had assistant managers, they’d be the ones making wake-up calls, too – however, the band had only started to live up to their potential now. Before you booked the European tour for them, Jett Records thought they barely needed one manager to begin with.
You’ve made it this far. If the tour went well, maybe you’d get to expand your team as the band gained popularity.
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Jungkook felt giddy the whole night. The Reconnaissance show with Taehyung and Luna was a lot of fun, as expected—he’d seen the band five times before tonight, and they never failed to let him down.
When he arrived at the after-party, he was nearly vibrating with excitement—on top of everything, he was going on tour tomorrow and he knew he might lose his mind over it—and this was usually the time when he tended to get reckless.
He did drink a little too much to retain a completely sober mind, but he stayed true to his word and did not wander anywhere or caused any—serious—trouble. You would have said that’s because Sid and Jude weren’t with him, but Jungkook was convinced it was because he simply had great self-control when he put his mind to it.
The only place he went to after the party was his family’s house, so he could say goodbye to his grandma. She probably wouldn’t even hear him—and if she would, then she probably wouldn’t recognise him—but he couldn’t leave to Europe without saying goodbye to her.
He thought he’d take his Katana to the house, but then remembered immediately the last time he got on his motorcycle drunk – his grandma had, literally, smacked him on the back with a rolling pin, yelling about how careless he was. She didn’t say that she hit him out of concern for his safety—that was obvious—and, instead, she focused on how hard he’d worked on restoring the bike after he’d bought it; his first purchase with the money that he made off Rated Riot’s music.
“Don’t you want it to last?” she had said then. She’d been the only person who believed he could bring the bike to life, despite it not having a single properly functioning part, least of all the engine. “You worked so hard on it. Do you want to wreck it in one night?”
Tonight, however, everyone in the house was asleep when he arrived. It was quiet, so he tried to be silent as he went up the stairs to her room—and then knocked over a picture frame after his feet fumbled on the carpet in the hallway. But no one went out to check who was making the noise—which was dangerous, he realised for a brief, semi-sober second; but the house had security, so he figured they were safe from outsiders—and he gently lowered the handle on his grandma’s door, peering inside.
The room was painted in blue hues from the night light next to the bed where his grandma was sleeping. He approached—really trying to be quiet this time—and carefully pulled her comforter up, so she wouldn’t get cold, even though the room felt warm.
It was always warm here and Jungkook had to bite his lip when he realised how much he missed sitting here as a child while dozens of his cousins ran around the house and wreaked loud, childish havoc. How much he missed his grandma reading him books—never children’s stories, he always insisted she read him the thickest, most boring books he could find on her shelves, just so he could stay in her room longer, listening to her soothing voice and feeling her comforting warmth.
Sniffling quietly, he leaned closer to her and brushed a strand of white hair from her face, listening to her soft breathing as she slept, unaware of his presence.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promised in a whisper as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She didn’t wake. “We will talk again then.”
He knew he’d keep this promise even if she didn’t hear it, even if she didn’t remember. But leaving her room felt painful and he was far less excited now. The alcohol had begun to wear off and heaviness settled in his chest instead. This happened sometimes when he was left alone with his thoughts, especially after he visited his grandma.
He'd come back, he knew he would. But as he glanced at his grandma’s sleeping frame one more time—remembering how she hadn’t called him by his name in months; not one glint of recognition in her eyes when she’d see him—he wondered if he’d have anyone to come back to.
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Surprising exactly no one, Jungkook was the only one who did not answer your wake-up call the next morning. Having foreseen this, you’d already called Hoseok, Yoongi and Taehyung – in that order, because the first two took the longest to wake up, and by that time, Taehyung was already awake on his own – and only then attempted to reach the one remaining member.
Fifteen minutes later, you were already dressed and ready to drive over to his house and personally wake him up with an icy bath in bed. And just then, your phone rang – his name as the caller’s ID.
“Look who—”
“Okay, okay,” Jungkook’s groggy voice cut you off before you could greet him with the appropriate sarcastic remark. “I’m awake. Halfway in the shower.”
“I don’t hear running water.”
He responded with a groan first, then shuffling. You waited patiently, balancing the phone on your shoulder as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Finally, you could hear the water start running on the other end of the call.
“Happy?” Jungkook asked, always the brightest of all rays of sunshine in the morning.
“Ecstatic,” you replied, equally as enthusiastically. “Sending a car to pick you up in half an hour. Don’t be late.”
“I can drive myself—”
“No driving when you’re hungover,” you said, not for the first time. “In fact, don’t even go near your Katana.”
He considered several ways to respond to you; first and foremost, defending his beloved, navy-coloured Suzuki Katana with a matte coating, custom-made leather seat covers, golden rims, purring engine, and—anyway. He ended up choosing to respond with a question, “how do you know I’m hungover?”
“I’ve known you for almost ten years,” you replied. “If you go out drinking the night before, you’ll wake up hungover.”
“Well, how do you know I drank that much last ni—?”
“Listen,” you cut him off, hoisting your suitcases over the threshold of your front door. You fixed your phone against your cheek and continued, “how about you take that shower, and we’ll resume this nice little Q&A at the airport?”
“No,” he replied and, in a purposefully exaggerated breathy voice said, “I simply can’t stop talking to you.”
“Hanging up now.”
Jungkook laughed as he listened to the beep, indicating the end of the call. Putting his phone on the side of the sink, he took his shirt off and was about to continue undressing when his phone vibrated and nearly fell off the sink.
Scrambling to catch it, he smacked it against the cupboard and exhaled in relief when he saw that the screen hadn’t cracked. He was expecting a text from you – a threat, in case he’d go back to bed – but it was actually Sid, asking for the time of his flight.
His friends were taking a separate flight out to Prague – they weren’t happy about it and neither was he, but at least they’d get to hang out in Europe eventually – and, obviously, they wanted to know what time they’d meet up and where.
He double-checked the itinerary you’d emailed him, got confused about the time zone difference and texted Sid back.
“Gonna be there the day before the show,” his text said, “jetlag. Sleep. Maybe beer? Catch u there.”
Sid was, of course, delighted to hear the mention of beer and Jungkook snickered to himself before he resumed undressing for his shower—knowing from experience that you wouldn’t be above shipping him to Prague in the cargo section on the plane if he was late to the airport.
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As it turned out, for the first time in his life, Jungkook was so terribly jet-lagged, that he did not feel like doing anything – not even drinking with friends – but sleeping.
He slept through the whole layover in Paris – and, consequently, through Taehyung and Luna’s stories about the 5 minutes they got to spend in front of the Eiffel Tower before rushing back to the airport (never mind that it was about 2 AM) – as well as the flight to Prague.
He only woke up on the bus ride to the hotel when he felt something nudging his lips and opened his eyes to find an open bottle of Coca-Cola in your hands as you held it by his face.
“Did you just—” he started to say, but his voice sounded brittle, more a croak than a voice, really. He cleared his throat and tried again, “did you just wake me up by making me sniff soda?”
“It worked,” you replied, nudging the bottle at him again. “Drink. You need sugar. You didn’t eat anything on the plane here.”
“I had that bagel on the flight to Paris,” he mumbled, but sat up properly and took the bottle from you.
“That was a croissant,” you clarified. It was almost cute to see him barely awake. “And I warned you about flying with a hangover. You did this to yourself.”
“I’m fine,” he replied after taking a big gulp of coke. “Not sure which day it is, but other than that, I’m perfect. Do you have anything for headaches?”
Snickering, you nodded. “Yeah, give me a second.”
You went to fetch your carry-on bag and returned with ibuprofen, which allowed him to go back to sleep until you arrived at the hotel. The other members were also in and out of slumber, but that was their own fault. You and the other girls on this tour, which, really, only meant Luna— Taehyung’s girlfriend—and Maggie—the tour photographer—had planned ahead and taken sleeping pills as soon as the plane took off. Meanwhile, every man on this trip thought too much of himself.
By the time you arrived to the hotel and checked in, it was already lunchtime. If this had been your first time travelling with Rated Riot, you would have been beyond surprised to see what effect food had on them: they looked like they'd just returned from the most refreshing vacation in the Caribbean. Lively conversation and cheerful laughter echoed around the table – no one would have guessed that they’d just spent over 13 hours on airplanes. Their recovery was nearly always miraculous.
And, naturally, since they were feeling better, they wanted to do something as soon as the first rehearsal was over. You had far too many things to do before the show tomorrow, so you couldn’t babysit them – again, an assistant manager would have been life-saving – but you knew you’d still have to keep an eye on them.
Taehyung and Luna went sightseeing, but they were the sort who kept you updated on their adventures through pictures, which you were endlessly grateful for. There was never a reason to worry here; if you were a teacher who had to pretend not to have a favourite student, Taehyung would be the student you were pretending about.
Yoongi and Hoseok, initially, went to a record store together, but then split up – one of them returned to the hotel for a nap, and the other one went café-hopping. Those two were also fine – they usually took some members of the crew with them anyway, so you knew that in the worst-case scenario, you’d still have several people you could call to reach them.
Now Jungkook was going to meet up with Sid and Jude, both of whom had, most unfortunately, successfully landed in Prague. The Diabolical Duo would take him out drinking, you had no doubt about it – and this was where you’d have to step in with another warning. You weren’t the angry mother, dragging her children by their ears, but you felt it necessary to remind Jungkook of what was at stake if he allowed his friends to be their usual, obnoxious selves tonight.
However, you didn’t want to ask, so you had to figure out where to find them yourself. You didn’t even have to use the seven years that you’ve known them to deduce two logical, universal-for-all-assholes things: one, Jungkook’s friends wouldn’t be nearly tired enough not to want to drink. Two, they’d be too jet-lagged to look for their usual hole-in-the-wall spot that sold drinks. Therefore, they’d have to settle for the bar of the hotel.
And when you exited the elevator on the ground floor later that night, your assumption was confirmed – you could hear their laughter from where you were standing in the lobby.
You’d texted Jungkook as you arrived, hoping he’d leave his friends and come see you at the back of the bar for a minute, but unfortunately, Sid and Jude noticed you and waved you over with loud cheers.
Embarrassed as the people in booths around you began to turn to look, you swallowed and walked towards the front where Jungkook and his friends were sitting by the bar.
“Wow, it’s been so long!” Jude exclaimed as you approached. In your opinion, it wasn’t nearly long enough, but you only lifted the corners of your lips and did not comment.
“Jungkook, a moment?” you said instead.
“Let’s get you a drink!” Sid suggested as though you hadn’t spoken and extended a hand, clicking his fingers to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey! Can we get some Margaritas here?”
You cringed watching this, but, again, restrained yourself. They could behave like pricks all they wanted; it wasn’t their reputation that you had to protect. Someone else would, hopefully, teach them a lesson.
“Sure,” Jungkook said to you, sliding off the stool. He seemed sober enough to walk without any sort of waddling or stand without swaying, but you could tell by the relaxation behind his eyes, that he was already tipsy.
His friends patted him on the back and whistled as he followed you to a quieter spot in the back of the bar. He shook his head at them—but had a grin on his face, and for that alone you wanted to punch him.
“Can I count on you to take it easy?” you asked, once the two of you were out of earshot. “Not because you’ll make my job much harder if you don’t, but because you have a rehearsal tomorrow at eight, and that’s hard with the jet lag alone, but add a hangover into the mix, and—”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, but you’ve heard this song many times before. It was one of his top hits. “I’m actually tired, so I might have a few and then go straight to bed.”
“Okay,” you said, choosing to believe him, because that was easier than making him sign a contract, swearing not to wake up in a dumpster. “Can you text me when you’re back in your room? So I know you’re not lost somewhere in Prague with Dumb and Dumber.”
His lip twitched in an almost-smile at the nickname, but he resisted – a loyal friend, even if they didn’t deserve it – and gave you a nod.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll text you. And I won’t get lost.”
“Okay—” you started to say and then squinted your eyes at him, realizing. “I meant don’t go wandering the city streets while drunk.”
He snorted and placed a hand on your left shoulder. Gazing into your eyes, he enunciated very dramatically, “I will not get into trouble. Promise.”
You pursed your lips. “You’d better not.”
“I realise what that would mean, believe it or not,” he said, straightening. “Tomorrow is an important day. I’d never do anything to ruin it.”
“I know,” you said. “I trust you to make smart choices. I don’t trust them.”
You pointed at the twosome by the bar – both of them watching you like you were the entertainment of the night – and Jungkook turned to look. Sid and Jude both immediately waved at him. Jungkook waved back and, when he looked at you again, he was smiling softly.
Clearly, he genuinely enjoyed hanging out with those two. You’d never believe that there was anything about them that was bearable—let alone enjoyable—so Jungkook’s weird attachment to them had to come from some sort of weird destructive force inside of him.
“I’ll keep them in check,” he said and then, possibly prompted by the skeptical frown on your face, he felt the need to explain, “they help me relax. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably be shaking from anxiety all the time. Kind of like you are.”
He winked as he said that last part, grinning at his own wit, but you rolled your eyes in response.
“Goodnight,” you said then. “Don’t forget to text me.”
“Are you going to stay up late waiting for my text?” his tone was humorous and it stopped you from leaving.
“Hopefully not,” you said, ignoring the flirty comment that was obviously meant to rattle your composure. “But it’d do you well to remember that I can make life very difficult for you if you disobey me.”
He lifted his eyebrows at this, but did not lose the grin. “Oh? Will I get punished if I—”
“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you said again—louder—and turned away.
You glanced over your shoulder when you reached the archway leading to the lobby and caught him watching you leave—he was still beaming, but he composed himself and nodded when he caught your eye. You nodded back.
Maybe he really would be fine tonight.
And, truly, Jungkook had meant what he’d said – he couldn’t wait for tomorrow and there was nothing he’d do to ruin that. Not even if the smirking faces of his friends prompted him to laugh as soon as he returned to his seat by the bar.
“What do you want, assholes?” he asked, punching Jude on the shoulder as he walked past his friends. As soon as he sat down, leaving Sid in the middle, he took a big gulp of the beer he’d left waiting; only his third one tonight.
“We don’t want anything,” Jude said, still smirking. “What did she want? Another moral how you’re not being a good boy?”
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “No—”
“I was always curious,” Sid interrupted. “Was she like that when you dated, too? You know, always in charge?”
Even before you and Jungkook had settled into a steady enough rhythm of working with each other, neither of you spoke to others about your relationship. Not while you were dating, and not after you broke up. So, all your friends—real friends and whoever the hell Sid and Jude were—essentially knew nothing of your relationship.
And there was nothing he’d tell them now.
It’s been four years since you broke up—plenty of time to move on. Not to mention, you were both (trying to be) professionals. There was no point to bring back the past; there never had been.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jungkook teased, managing to keep the banter going without revealing how the question irked something inside him.
“I would. That’s why I asked,” Sid replied, laughing haughtily. A few heads turned his way. Sid sounded very much like an entitled heir—or an elephant high on helium—when he laughed, especially when there was nothing funny going on. “I mean, you never talked about her to us. Was it getting rid of her that made you who you are today?”
Jude snorted, slapping Sid on the back in a half-supportive, half-warning manner. Jungkook knew that the level of your patience for his friends ranged from Sid (no patience) to Jude (case-by-case), to Minjun (bearable)—and he could see why.
“I didn’t get rid of her,” he said, an edge to his voice. “We broke up and moved on. Did you hear from Minjun?”
Sid laughed again—even louder than before; the glasses behind the bar seemed to clatter.
“Look at him, trying to change the topic!” he wheezed, looking at Jude over his shoulder.
“Leave him be, man,” Jude said and nodded at Jungkook. “So many girls around us and this dumbass is still hung up on your ex, huh?”
Jungkook finished his beer and held the liquid behind his cheeks for a second before swallowing. He caught the bartender’s eye and lifted his empty glass, indicating a refill.
“I don’t think I’m the one who’s hung up,” Sid said with a very knowing look in his eye.
Jungkook looked at him and raised his eyebrows—surprised and momentarily distracted from his drink. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you come to her as soon as she calls, like a puppy,” Sid replied. “So, you tell me.”
“I have to come when she calls,” Jungkook defended. “She’s my manager.”
“Yeah, dumbass,” Jude said, slapping Sid on the back of the head this time. “She’s his manager.”
Jungkook suddenly found himself smiling when he realised that you’d probably consider this the reason why Sid acted the way he did sometimes – permanent brain damage from Jude’s incessant slaps.
“Well, then someone,” Sid said, angrily accentuating the word—the anger was clearly directed at Jude, but the pronoun at Jungkook, “has a fucking crush on their manager.”
“I don’t have a crush—”
Sid spoke over him, “I bet you could never get her to go out with you again.”
Jungkook saw the bartender approach to pour him a drink and he heard Jude scoffing, but he could only blink, taken aback by what sounded like an accusation.  “Why—why would I even—why—”
“Oh, see, see?!” Sid screeched, turning to Jude with a triumphant expression. Jude gave him a pitiful look—and looked about ready to give him a black eye, too. “He knows I’m right, it’s why he’s stuttering!”
“Dude,” Jude said slowly. “You are yelling.”
Jungkook cleared his throat, nodding at the bartender as a thank-you and then bringing his refilled glass to his lips. “And I’m not stuttering.”
“You so are, my man,” Sid taunted, patting Jungkook on the shoulder with so much force, the beer nearly spilled from the glass and from his mouth. “Your ass is so whipped, you’re going to be singing at her wedding to some random producer.”
Suddenly hyper-aware that there were several producers on tour with them right now, Jungkook put his drink down and straightened in his seat.
“I’m not fucking singing at weddings,” he said.
“Not yet,” Sid pointed out, grinning. He knew he'd gotten under his skin.
“Okay, come on now,” Jude interjected, leaning back in his seat to be able to see Jungkook. “You promised you’d sing at my wedding.”
“As if anyone would ever marry you,” came Sid’s snide.
“You shut the fuck up,” Jude snarled, but there was no malice behind his bark. “I have more chances of marrying someone than he has of marrying his manager.”
“He—oh, fuck!” Sid was about to argue, but then burst into laughter—so loud and thunderous again, that the bartender was forced to glance over at the security guards by the entrance to the bar. “That’s good! You’re so right!”
“Both of you are fucking idiots,” Jungkook spoke. The edges of his vision were red. “I could get her to go out with me again if I wanted to.”
“Oh, sure, sure,” Sid nodded, wiping invisible tears from his eyes. “Big talk.”
“Jungkook, no offense, my dude,” Jude said, leaning forwards this time. “Let him have this one. Sid may be dumber than box of rocks, but he’s got a point here. Forget about her.”
Another insinuation that had Jungkook throwing his head back in frustration.
“There’s nothing to forget!” he groaned. “What the fuck are you even talking about? I just fucking told you I moved on.”
“So why are you getting all riled up, then?” Sid smirked, more and more satisfied with each curse that he provoked out of him.
Jungkook felt even angrier, because he was getting riled up, but he had a good reason for it. He enjoyed banter as much as the next person, but he did not enjoy mockery at his own expense—especially not the kind that involved you.
He snapped back, “because you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
His friends snickered at this – convinced that his irritation only proved the point they were both making – and Jungkook clenched his jaw, annoyed.
“If anything,” he added sharply as he picked his beer up—as if that could somehow distance him from this conversation, “it’s her who’s still hung up on me.”
That was a cheap, childish defence, and everyone by the bar knew it.
“Yeah, right!” Sid cried out, but resisted from laughing again. “We’ve heard her yell at you more times than we can count. You fucking wish she was still hung up on you.”
“Okay, to be fair, Sid can probably only count to five,” Jude added—Sid finally punched him on the shoulder—as he toyed with the paper umbrella on his fourth cocktail; the Margaritas they’d ordered were long gone. “But he’s right, you know? You’d never get her to go out with you again.”
There was pity in Jude’s voice—as if he felt sorry that Jungkook lived in denial, chasing after you and convincing himself that it was only a matter of time before you’d come back to him.
This made Jungkook’s temper vile, his face red, hot, and angry. He slammed his beer back on the table, forcing some of it to spill. “Yes, I fucking would!”
Sid was hiccupping as he laughed.
“Okay, okay, listen—let’s make a proper bet,” he managed. He picked up a napkin from the bar top, then looked around for something to write on it with—not finding anything, he stood up from his seat and leaned over the bar, grabbing a pen before the bartender could notice. “$1000 says you can’t get her to go on a date with you again.”
He glanced at Jude for approval—Jude shrugged.
“I’d suggest $500,” he said. “We don’t want to rob him blind.”
Jungkook’s face remained stoic, prideful.
“Fine with me. But you have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,” he bit.
“Oh, that’s right, he’s been awfully cocky about the whole thing, hasn’t he?” Sid spoke, addressing his rhetorical question at the bar. He wrote something on the napkin and then lifted it to show the number “4000” to Jungkook. “How about this: Jude and I each pay you $2000 if you win. But if you lose, you give us your Katana.”
Jungkook lifted his eyebrows, the sudden mention of his bike catching him off-guard. Sid came from old money, he could afford fifteen brand-new motorcycles with the change he found in his suitcase, probably.
“How is that fair?” he asked. “Do you even know how much a Suzuki costs these days? It’s not $4000, I can tell you that much.”
“Why should you care?” Sid asked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You were so confident about winning the bet just a second ago. Scared you’ll lose after all?”
In his defence, Jungkook did hesitate for half a moment. But there was a shit-eating grin on Sid’s mouth that he wanted to wipe off more than anything else, and he downed the rest of his beer in one big gulp—a showcase of his determination.
“Not at all,” he said then. He wasn’t sure if he was lying as he said this, but he had no time to figure that out. He extended his hand at Sid. “Get your money ready.”
Here, he was putting up a front – this wasn’t about the money at all. It was more a thing of pride; they were teasing him, purposefully making fun of him—and he wanted to prove them wrong, regardless if they were actually wrong.
Smirking, Sid shook his hand—cementing the bet between all three of them, as Jude was busy finishing off his cocktail—and was about to say something when Jungkook jumped off his stool.
“Have to go now,” he said, always a show-off with his overly creative comebacks when he was tipsy. “My horoscope predicts a date and a big fortune in my near future. Got to prepare.”
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chapter title credits: sleep token, “rain”
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special shout-out & thank you to @eleni-cherie who delivered the much-appreciated kicks in the ass, so that i would keep writing. the odds were really against me, so if it weren't for you & our in-depth fanfic discussions, i definitely wouldn't even be writing this note right now, let alone finally starting this story 💜
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sunnyaelia · 18 days
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Can you do a fic about reporter x Alexia where they are already together but the public does not know and Alexa is very obvious with her heart eyes? Or one where Alexia is crushing on a reporter and they start getting shipped after this interview
Heart Eyes
Based on this video and also this, specifically the intro clip of her being so incredibly pookie 💓
I promised myself to focus more on requests finally so expect more of them to be done from now on hopefully :)💓
Fluff, bit suggestive but quite tame compared to my other stuff lol 
-
You tried your hardest not to blush already as Alexia made her way over to you, the bright smile on her face a stark contrast to the usually way more guarded one she was wearing whenever she did an interview. You two had been together for a few weeks now, Alexia asking you out after one match where you’d done the commentary, being struck by your laughter as she watched you talk to others on the sidelines. This was the first time since then that you were doing an interview with your girlfriend. You knew you had to be professional about this, not willing to reveal the relationship yet - though you knew it would be fruitless as soon as Alexia came to a halt next to you, her eyes wandering over your body as she appreciated the outfit you had on currently. 
You could feel the heat wander up your face at her blatant staring, your girlfriend completely unashamed while checking you out and then sending you an innocent smile as she grabbed the second microphone. You did the introduction on autopilot, thankful for the long experience of doing interviews which was definitely saving you right now because you weren’t even listening to yourself, more interested in the way Alexia’s blonde hair was glowing in the light and her hazel eyes that kept meeting yours. 
Meanwhile your girlfriend was trying her hardest to listen, her focus entirely on your lips that looked so kissable right now and the way you seemed so happy to see her, your eyes straying over to hers again and again. You did your best to go through the questions and look serious and professional but you honestly couldn’t stop staring at Alexia who was all done up in a suit and had her makeup on - the makeup that you had done for her earlier in the day under constant distraction of her wandering hands. The girl was nothing short of clingy, her hands always slipping underneath your shirts and resting there, no matter if you were watching TV, cooking or doing your own makeup. 
It had been difficult to even get ready at all, Alexia’s desire for affection clear as she kept pulling you onto her lap or jokingly refused to pull the zipper of your dress up, insisting that it looked better with a bit more skin showing - though you knew exactly she would not be happy if you actually went out in more revealing stuff. 
While you were doing your best to maintain your image and not reveal to the whole world that you two were together, Alexia was either horribly at hiding it or simply didn’t care because she was openly staring at you, a slight smile on her face as you asked her about stuff about her or football that you already knew, with that moderator voice of yours that you only pulled out for the TV. It was interesting to see the transformation of you going from kind of shy to incredibly confident as soon as the camera was on and she was fascinated again and again how you could make the best out of dry answers. You had to do that now again, Alexia was a private person anyway - but a distracted Alexia who was currently busy making heart eyes at you was even more private, her answers not unfriendly but short as she was currently occupied thinking back to the activities you two had been up to last night, knowing that there was a hickey on your chest that was barely hidden by your dress.
You were glad you had put on extra makeup today, having already known that you’d blush no matter what, because the way your girlfriend once more lowered her gaze to look at your body and then smirked slightly at whatever less than appropriate thought had just crossed her mind caused your cheeks to heat up quite a bit. 
You thought it would get better once the second reporter joined, hoping that it would refocus Alexia. It most certainly didn’t, the blondes eyes stayed on your face almost the whole time, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes as she saw the way you were still blushing. If there was one thing Alexia loved, it was making you blush and then in turn watching you get embarrassed at how easy it was for her to make you blush. 
So, knowing that this would definitely cause the desired effect, she made short eye contact with you - not wanting to make it too obvious - before she licked over her lips, the same ones you had kissed swollen this morning as you two had tried to finally get out of bed. She was right in her prediction as she saw the red on your cheeks quickly become visible through your makeup, not able to resist throwing you a teasing smile for a moment with a small chuckle before she did her best to concentrate on the reporters questions again. 
It seemed to take forever, even if it was just around 5 minutes until she was finally done. You two went your separate ways, Alexia throwing one last longing look towards you as you joined your team to review the footage and go over the next interviews you were going to do before she went to her respective team to freshen up and get ready for the event. 
It was evening when you two saw each other again, having agreed on meeting at her house afterwards just like you basically always did. You greeted a very excited Nala at the front door before you were tugged into Alexia’s arms, the blonde already having changed and taken her makeup off. She looked almost more stunning like that, her in tracksuits with her bare face one of your favourite sights. 
You two sat down on the sofa, you wanting to gather yourself first before you removed all of the makeup and took a long shower, your legs, feet and back hurting from being in heels the entire day. 
After a short exchange on how the rest of your days went, Alexia went to get you some water, very satisfied as she came back to the living room with it in her hand, putting it in front of you as she spoke. 
“I think we hid our relationship quite well mi amor.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle, having already seen the amount of stuff both you and your girlfriend had been tagged in. Safe to say you two were terrible at hiding it. 
“Hmm not too sure about that.”
You unlocked your phone, clicking on the first thing you saw that proved your statement and then turned the screen towards her, a bright grin on your face as she watched the video - it was from earlier, showing a few parts of the interview you had done with her. It was obvious that Alexia was more focused on you rather than anything else, even when the second interviewer joined her eyes didn’t leave yours and often roamed down from your face to your body. You also quickly scrolled through the comments, some were simply geeking about Alexia speaking in English - the majority was talking about her either making heart eyes at you or basically undressing you with her eyes, making jokes about you two being together or at least getting together now. 
Alexia merely rolled her eyes though a light blush was visible on her cheeks as she took your phone and set it aside before she pushed you back on the couch so you were laying flat, quick to come closer and hover above you as she settled on your hips. 
“It’s not my fault you look so good in that dress.” 
She reached out with one hand to grab a piece of your hair strand, twirling it as she shamelessly let her eyes wander down your body once more. 
“You know…” releasing the hair strand and moved her hand towards your chest, trailing her fingers down lower over the material of your dress as she continued. 
“That dress looks a bit uncomfortable, why don’t I help you take it off?” 
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chaethewriter · 1 year
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You're dead to me [2]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread
Word count: 2,3k
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What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.
"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?
"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.
You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"
After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.
What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:
Were you enough?
Was there something wrong with you?
Why didn't he come back to you?
You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.
'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'
'Did I make him unhappy?'
'Was I too much for him?'
'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'
You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."
But only if you knew.
.
.
"They have arrived, they will help us."
"They're sky demons! All the same!"
"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."
A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3
also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly
Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):
@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626
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gatitties · 7 months
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War & crack II
—Task Force 141 x young!reader
—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic
—Warnings: none
Part One / Halloween special
yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣
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─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.
─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.
─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.
─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.
─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.
─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).
─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.
─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.
─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.
─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.
─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.
─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.
─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.
─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...
─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.
─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.
— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.
─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.
─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.
─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.
─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.
─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.
─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.
─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.
─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.
─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).
— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.
— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.
— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.
— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.
— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.
— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.
— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.
— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.
— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.
— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.
— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.
— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?
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loveliestfelix · 4 months
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Too Young; Yeonjun
Genre: angst, fluff, ex-friends to potential lovers, based on Alec Benjamin’s Water Fountain (pls listen to it while reading x)
Word count: 3.4K
Warnings: divorce, cheating (not Yeonjun or Yn)
Hi, loves. This is definitely not my best work but after having been in a writing slump for months, I’m super happy to have finally finished something :’) Hope you enjoy<3
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"He cheated on her?" Yeonjun exclaimed, shock dripping off both his features and his raised voice.
Soobin nodded, his face gloomy.
"But they have-" Yeonjun frustratedly ran a hand through his hair, “she is the mother of his child!"
Yeonjun couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Your husband had cheated on you. The man who had somehow gotten all the stars aligned for him—who had gotten the blessing to marry you five years ago and be the father of your child, had cheated on you.
Nausea hit Yeonjun like a wave of a stormy sea.
Soobin softly scoffed. "You know what's the worst part? Minhee told me that when Yn found out, she didn't even want to file the divorce at first. She was worried about little Mina's life, how she would grow up with divorced parents."
Yeonjun swallowed. He wanted to scream. Cry, even.
This was absolutely sickening.
Soobin noticed the color draining from his friend's face and placed a reassuring hand on his knee.
Soobin was the only person who knew how much Yeonjun had loved you when he was younger. How indescribably in love the man was with you when you were in college together.
Soobin believed in true love because he had seen the way Yeonjun had loved you.
How unconditionally he had loved you.
But Yeonjun was young. You all were.
Too immature, too young, and too dumb to realize he had to speak up about how he felt for you. He was so determined to keep you in his life that he even accepted having to see you get into a relationship with a man that wasn't him. With Jay of all people, a fool that would never love you the way he did.
Soobin knew that even now, five years later, Yeonjun had not forgotten about you. Yeonjun could never forgive himself for not letting you know how much he loved you, for not saving you from Jay and his toxicity.
Yeonjun had just been too young.
"You okay, bro?" Soobin's kind tone brought his best friend back to earth and slowly calmed his rage.
"I just can't believe it," Yeonjun shrugged with a disappointed shake of his head. "When we were in college and even a while after college I always hoped Jay and Yn would break up. I always believed he wouldn't be good for her, but... once I saw Yn walk down the altar five years ago, looking at him like that..." Yeonjun remembered the dazzling smile you had on your gorgeous face, the sparkles in your eyes—sparkles that weren’t for him— and felt a sharp pain in his heart, "...I truly, genuinely, wished the best for the two of them."
Yeonjun fiddled with his fingers, his entire body aching. "I somehow never thought he would actually be unfaithful to her. Especially now that they have a kid, I-" He ran another hand through his hair, fighting the lump in his throat and the burning ache in his eyes. "I wish I could be there for Yn now."
Soobin nodded understandingly. "Why can't you be?"
Yeonjun looked at his friend. "The last time I saw her was last winter. It feels strange to suddenly pop back in her life after her husband, well, ex-husband, and her have just gotten divorced," he sighed.
Soobin nodded, understanding his friend's point.
Silence fell over the two.
"Quite ironic, isn't it?" Yeonjun then muttered quietly, earning a questioning raise of Soobin’s eyebrows.
"I didn't tell her how I felt back then when she was with Jay because I didn't want to lose her. And still I..." Yeonjun chuckled sadly, shaking his head as he took a sip from his drink. "I haven’t seen her in a year, Soob."
Soobin looked down, remembering the memories the squad made when you were still in college. Him, Minhee, Jihya, Taehyun, Beomgyu, Kai, Yeonjun and you. You guys were convinced you'd say friends til you grew old and gray. Sadly, with time, life interfered with those plans.
Kai moved to Europe a little after your wedding; Jihya and Taehyun became busy with their high-status jobs; Beomgyu left to travel the world last year; and you... well, you had become busy with being a mother. Minhee was still your good friend, so you saw her relatively often. Soobin had been Minhee's boyfriend since college so from time to time you still talked to him, too, but somehow the contact between Yeonjun and you lost ground.
And it was the most painful thing Yeonjun had to experience. It was even worse than losing you to Jay.
Having to watch you date Jay didn't compare to the agony Yeonjun had to endure when talking to you started happening less and less frequently until it stopped completely.
"I think you should hit her up. Tell her you're sorry for what happened and that you're keeping her in your thoughts," Soobin voiced, making Yeonjun tense up.
Talking to you again? There was nothing Yeonjun wanted more. But now? After everything that happened? He didn't think it would be a good idea. Plus, he had to move on one day. He had been going on multiple dates lately and he was starting to get the hang of dating again. Thinking he wouldn't ruin all of that by speaking to you again would be naive. No, he knew that even seeing you would bring him back to square one.
And that was because of the simple fact that Yeonjun believed you were the love of his life, and had been since the day you met.
And until he found a different, new, love of his life, if that was even possible, he would never be able to completely fill the hole in his heart where your love belonged.
"I'll see," Yeonjun replied.
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Yeonjun blew some warm air into his hands before rubbing them together as he walked over the snowy pavement. He had not expected it to be this cold today.
It was only two weeks ago that Yeonjun and Soobin had met up for drinks, only wearing thin jackets. But now even the beanie Yeonjun had on did not prevent the blood in his body from trying to warm his reddened ears and nose.
It was only after finally stepping inside the warm cafe, that Yeonjun felt like he could breathe again. He slid the headphones off his head and made his way to the counter.
"That'll be eight fifty, please," the voice of the cashier sounded, directed to the person in front of Yeonjun in line.
"Yes, sure- Oh... Oh no, I think I forgot my wallet." The voice of the person, the woman, in front of Yeonjun slowly made him look up from his phone, his heart registering whom the voice belonged to quicker than his brain did.
"Wait, I think I've got some cash in my purse, one second, please."
With wide eyes and shock running through his entire body, Yeonjun watched you as you crouched down next to the little girl beside you and asked her to hand her the purse she was holding.
Before you could even start searching for the money, Yeonjun already handed over his credit card to the cashier, his body acting out of instinct while his mind was still a blurry mess. "I'll pay," he stated, his voice way too steady in comparison to his racing heart and sweaty hands.
The cashier nodded before turning around to start preparing your order.
Your ears perked up at the male voice and you stood up, turning around with a confused expression on your face.
When your eyes met the dark ones belonging to your old friend, though, time decided to stand still for a second or two.
For what felt like hours to Yeonjun, the two of you just stared at each other.
"Yeonjun?"
Your confused voice and dumbfounded facial expression caused a genuine smile to break through Yeonjun's face, the outer ends of his eyebrows slightly drooping.
"Yn, hey." His voice was hoarse.
"Mommy, who's that?" Mina tugged at your hand and the two of you turned your attention to the little girl. Your daughter.
"Uh, this is-" you stammered.
Yeonjun crouched down to your daughter's level and smiled, holding out his hand to her. "I'm Yeonjun. Your mommy and I used to go to college together."
Yeonjun couldn’t believe how quickly Mina had grown. The last time he saw her she could barely walk.
Mina glanced at your disbelieving smile before she shook Yeonjun's hand. "I'm Mina."
Her small voice made Yeonjun's heart melt. "Such a beautiful name! I bet your mom came up with it," he grinned.
Yeonjun remembered it vividly; freshman year, physics class. Yeonjun and you were bored out of your mind so instead of paying attention, you guys decided to make a list of baby names. And of course, at number one on your list was Mina.
For a second Yeonjun wondered if you forgot about the memory, but when he stood back up and saw the familiar smile tugging at your lips, he knew you remembered.
Yeonjun took a second to shamelessly take your features in. Just a second. You were just as pretty as you were in college. Now more mature, which suited you perfectly, Yeonjun found.
But the sparkles your eyes had always held weren’t as bright anymore. Dark eye bags surrounded your eyes and your cheeks were sunken.
You were tired. And not the type of tired a person was when being low on sleep.
Yeonjun almost wondered if the cracking noise his heart made at the sight of your exhaustion was audible to the people around him.
The barista handed you your drinks, making you smile at her and give Mina her banana milkshake before turning to Yeonjun.
"I'll pay you back, just send me your bank-"
"Yn, stop it," Yeonjun chuckled. "It's nothing, really."
You smiled, your heart warming at the sweet gesture. "Thank you."
Yeonjun just smiled at you as you adjusted the bag on your shoulder and took Mina’s hand in yours before a rush of panic washed over him when he realized you were most likely about to leave now. That would mean he wouldn't be able to see you again.
Yeonjun quickly straightened his back and cleared his throat.
"I- uhm, I d-don’t know if you're busy but I was actually wondering if you maybe want to sit down together? Catch up a bit?" His voice was slightly shaky and he pointed at a table in the corner of the cafe.
Your eyes enlarged for a split second and your lips parted, not expecting his invitation.
But just because you didn't expect it, didn't mean you didn't crave to reconnect with your college best friend. He reminded you of a period in your life when you were the happiest. And it would be a lie to say he hadn't contributed to a large part of that happiness.
"I'd like that, actually," you nodded, making Yeonjun's heart pick up its pace.
After Yeonjun had been given his order, the three of you sat down at a table.
"How have you been, Yeonjun? It's been ages since we last talked," you awkwardly chuckled, your eyes carefully scanning Yeonjun's face.
Although his face still held that aura of youth, the light scruff on his chin and the sharper cheekbones gave away that he, too, grew a few years older. You found that twenty-eight looked good on him, though. Really good.
"I've been good. Got a promotion at the company recently, so that's... that's good," he replied, hating the small talk. He wished he could skip all of that and go straight to the part where he could tell you how much he missed you and that if there was something he could do for you in these difficult times, he would. In a heartbeat.
"That's amazing!" You cheered before turning to your daughter after she softly tugged at your sleeve, and handing her a coloring book from your bag and a few coloring pencils.
Yeonjun watched you with adoration in his eyes as you stroked your daughter's hair before returning your attention to Yeonjun.
Mina looked so comfortable with you, like you were her favorite thing in the world.
And the gentleness which you carried when communicating with the toddler made it well known that Mina was your favorite thing in the world, too.
Yeonjun could tell you were a great mother just from these small gestures. And it made an indescribable rage and sadness grow in his chest at the fact Jay took such bad care of his beautiful family.
Yeonjun would have given you and Mina the world if you were his little family.
He hated these forbidden thoughts running through his head. Yeonjun despised the idea of how different things could have been if he had only spoken up six years ago. He had no right to wonder what could have been, not when he had been such a coward.
A coward. Or just too young.
"Yeonjun?"
Your voice pulled the man out of his painful thoughts, and he quickly raised his eyebrows, painting an attempt of a smile on his face. "Yes?"
You chuckled. Yeonjun's chest heaved.
"I asked you if you had been in touch with the rest of the squad lately," you asked, and grinned at the word squad. “I've been thinking a lot about them lately."
Yeonjun chuckled. "Actually, Soobin has this idea to soon plan a reunion party. How does that sound?"
He rested his chin in his palm as he stared at you.
A genuine smile broke through your tired face. "Well, I'd love that."
Yeonjun nodded and a silence fell over the two of you.
His eyes slid to the fiddling of your fingers, the ring that was missing from your ring finger.
You noticed his stare.
"How have you been, Yn?"
"You heard, haven't you?" You asked a tad too quickly, and the smile on your lips wasn’t showcasing any happiness.
He nodded, trying his best to not show any pity, knowing how much you had always hated it when people pitied you for anything back in college.
"I'm okay, really. It was coming, anyway. I just regret not realizing it earlier." You shrugged your shoulders, biting your lower lip, and looked away.
Yeonjun frowned. "Realized that he...?"
"That there was something wrong in our marriage,” you finished his sentence, although you knew that wasn’t what he meant. “That were was something wrong with- whatever," you shook your head, smiling down at your daughter and stroking her hair again as she comfortably sipped from her milkshake and drew in the coloring book, unaware of the difficult conversation her mother was having.
"Yn, it is not your fault. You know that, right?" Yeonjun asked, confusion coloring his face.
You swallowed before looking up from your daughter with a bright expression on your face that was anything but genuine. "Yeah, I... I guess."
Frustration hit Yeonjun like a brick, and he had to refrain from standing up. Instead, he just sat up straight. "Listen. Jay being..." he cleared his throat and lowered his voice, "him being unfaithful has nothing to do with you. It says nothing about you and everything about him. Please do not forget that."
You didn't deserve this. You were actually the last person on earth who deserved this.
Yeonjun's shoulders tensed and his heart slowly broke into a thousand pieces when tears started pooling in your beautiful, sweet eyes.
Oh, how he wished he could get a chance to heal your broken heart. To love you the way you deserved. If only the universe would give him a chance.
If only you would give him a chance.
"Look, Yn, I know it has been a while since we properly talked and I know I'm probably not the person you'd choose to tell all your personal stuff to but," he took a deep breath, a sad frown in his eyebrows, "if you need someone to talk to, to cry to or just someone who will distract you... I am here, alright? I was here in college and I will... I will be here now." Always.
Yeonjun didn't like to be this honest with you this quickly, but he couldn't stop himself. His heart wasn't strong enough to just pretend he was only a distant acquaintance when the past years you had never completely left his mind, or heart.
You stared into his eyes and your shoulders sagged. There was so much weight on your heart. So much you were keeping to yourself, believing it was something you had to deal with on your own.
But his eyes... oh, the sincerity in his eyes made you want to tell him everything. It made you want to let him in, see your pain.
"Yeonjun, I-"
The screen of your phone lit up when a notification appeared, pulling your attention to the device.
Yeonjun wasn't able to catch what the message said for he was so concentrated on your face and whatever you were about to tell him, so he frowned in confusion when you stood up from your seat.
"I-It's my lawyer. She's asking me to meet up. I’m sorry," you stuttered, your mind a slight blur from whatever Yeonjun and the nostalgia that came with him had made you feel just a few seconds ago, and you quickly wiped your cheeks in case any stray tears had managed to escape your eyes.
Yeonjun blinked a few times and nodded. "Oh, yeah, no, I get it."
"Who knew a divorce would lead to so much paperwork and having to read through such difficult contracts," you awkwardly chuckled before telling Mina in a soft voice that you were leaving.
She nodded and put her belongings in her little backpack.
"We will get going but, uhm, it was nice —really nice— to see you again, Yeonjun," you sincerely smiled at the man. “Thank you for…”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Yeonjun nodded, a small smile on his face.
You collected all confidence in your system and took a shaky breath. “I’ll see you…?” Balancing on your heels, you waited—hoped— for Yeonjun to speak up.
“At the reunion party?” Yeonjun offered and immediately regretted his words.
Your shoulders slightly slumped but you quickly smiled the disappointment away.
“Yes, at the reunion party.”
You gave him one last glance before walking out of the cafe with Mina holding your hand.
The cold air hit your face and your heart felt even heavier than before coming to the cafe. Now it wasn’t just filled with Jay and all of his problems, but also with the memories and nostalgia from college. With the feelings you had once felt for Yeonjun, but had always suppressed.
Sure, you didn’t still have romantic feelings for him. But much to your dismay, you definitely wished you were able to talk to him a bit longer, to bring up old memories together.
But as disappointing as it was, you figured he didn’t want that as much as you did. He wouldn’t have let you go without planning a new date to meet up if he wanted to see you again.
You sighed and opened the car door.
You were just putting Mina in her seat when a voice calling your name made you halt. Your heart skipped a beat and you spun on your heels to face the owner of the voice.
Yeonjun’s chest heaved up and down as if he had run out of the cafe, and his warm breath caused smoke to fall from his lips every time it came in contact with the cold air.
“Yn,” he repeated. His doe eyes and the reddened tip of his button nose made your insides warm up. You were convinced Yeonjun would look adorable even when he was fifty.
“Yeah?” You asked, somehow hoping with your entire heart that he wasn’t just going to tell you you forgot something in the cafe.
Yeonjun’s gaze flickered from your left to your right eye.
“I…“ won’t let you go again, not now, not ever, “…wanted to ask you if you were maybe down to meet up for drinks this Friday. We didn’t get much time to talk now and if you want I can help you with the paperwork.” Yeonjun raised his hand, gesturing in your direction. “I don’t want you to think you have to do it all on your own.”
He hoped you knew he wasn’t just referring to the paperwork when he said those last words.
You didn’t notice the relieved smile that was creeping onto your lips until Yeonjun mirrored you.
“I…” you suddenly didn’t feel the cold breeze hitting your skin anymore, “…could definitely use some help.”
Somehow you knew he understood you weren’t just referring to the paperwork.
You glanced at Mina before returning your gaze to Yeonjun and shook your head. “But I don’t have anyone to babysit Mina this Friday.”
“I could come over to your place then? I can cook for us,” Yeonjun offered with a gentle smile.
In college, Yeonjun had always been the friend to come up with solutions for any issue. You had always loved him for that.
And right now, you were more than grateful that specific part of him hadn’t changed since then.
“That sounds perfect.”
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