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#and now the only thing that’s ‘right there’ is either a Starbucks (closing at 2) or a Peet’s (closing at 6) (neither open on weekends)
fractallogic · 1 year
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It would be so much easier to leave my house in the mornings if I didn’t constantly have to go “okay did I pack a lunch did I adequately feed myself breakfast am I accidentally going to give myself a migraine because I didn’t eat enough” because I’m stalled between the lunch thing and the breakfast thing and when this happened yesterday I fell asleep and didn’t get anything done because I never left for campus!
It would also of course be much easier if there were lunch places close by, but. uh. Not so much.
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cloudinterlude · 1 year
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There's a certain tone that bleeds into a lot of MCU fanfiction when talking about Steve's defrosting into the new century and it's bothersome. It's like people don't fully understand why he didn't have to be grateful for being in modern times. There's a serious lack of empathy and it always ends up with some other character ranting to Steve about how he needs to suck it up and move on if he wants to get anywhere in life and somehow that motivates Steve to...realize he was the only one being an asshole and learning to love the current world?
Yeah no.
I've read one (1) - and isn't to say other stories I like got it wrong bc I've certainly read others that are also great - but I've read ONE fanfiction that describes Steve's situation perfectly (in such a meaningful way) and it literally blew my mind when I read it because it was so good to ME.
"Ain't no Grave" by spitandvinegar was amazing. Mind you, I'm not a really Stucky shipper in any capacity (like I see the vision but don't feel it yknow?), but I'm a sucker for satisfying Steve characterization so I inhaled this fic. And y'all...this author did his character justice. It's not even a Steve-centric story! Which made me even more amazed (that the author got him so right) and even more annoyed (that so many people get him so wrong and end up bashing him). I quote the paragraph below but I urge you to read the fic if you're interested!
Like listen, listen. Imagine you live in this country, right? And there's a brutal war, and you witness and maybe participate in a horrific amount of violence, and you lose absolutely everyone you care about. Then you end up in this other country, where the culture and ways of doing things are completely foreign to you, and random assholes make fun of you for how you dress and act and talk while you're still coming to grips with the fact that everyone you love is gone and you can never go home again. Meanwhile, everyone around you is like "smile, motherfucker, you're in the Land of Plenty now, where there's a Starbucks on every corner and 500 channels on TV. You should be grateful! Why aren't you acting more grateful?" So you have to pretend to be grateful while you're dying inside. Sound like an traumatized, orphaned refugee? Also sounds like Steve fucking Rogers, Captain Goddamn America. Except that most refugees were part of a community of other people who were going through the same thing. Steve is all alone, the last damn unicorn, if the last unicorn had horrible screaming nightmares about the time when it helped to liberate Buchenwald.
AMAZING RIGHT? It was very satisfying to read the first time around. Even more satisfying that this was coming from Sam's POV which was just a lovely decision.
Anyways!
This little rant isn't even coming from a place of superiority. I know characterization can be difficult, and it's not so much about the quality rather than the fundamental misunderstanding of Steve's character that makes it obvious that either the author doesn't care enough to try to empathize with him, 2) They're using Steve to prop up some other character or 3) They watched his trilogy with their eyes closed and called it a day.
This post has gotten too long so thats all I'll say for now!
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stark-stiel · 5 months
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i am absolutely angry and devastated. if you’ve seen the things i’ve posted on my story recently, you’re probably aware about the genocide happening in Palestine right now.
as of today, november 21st 2023 there are:
- 14 000+ deaths, 5 600+ of those being children
- 33 000+ injured, 75% being children and women
- 6 000+ are still missing under rubble
- let’s not forget the 60+ journalists who are being targeted for spreading the truth in both Palestine and more recently, in southern Lebanon
- at least 5 premature babies out of 39 of them have died either due to the lack of electricity, food, water and medicine as most of the others have
- 21 out of 35 of Gaza’s hospital are completely out of service, which one of their largest hospital, Al-Shifa, was targeted and is now not operational, and they plan to do the same to the Indonesian Hospital in Gaza, which is, might i add, an INTERNATIONAL WAR CRIME on top of many other israel has committed
- there are also 7 000+ palestinian prisoners captured by israeli military forces including children, in which the israeli government is deciding whether to execute them, or exchange a release for their own prisoners taken
and that is just the damage in Gaza, not including the destruction in the West Bank:
- which killed 217 people, including 50 children
- injuring more than 2 750 others
these lists only contain the bare minimum of what has happened.
to give you an idea, today, i saw a doctor who was being consoled by others, as he had just performed an amputation on HIS OWN CHILD, which has happened before, but this surgery was done WITHOUT anesthesia, and the child couldn’t survive the pain.
let’s just let that sink in for a minute.
they don’t have the proper medical supplies to provide the care they need because Israel and the United States will not allow a ceasefire. Biden has stated so himself. and Trudeau hasn’t called one either.
they can’t even grieve their dead in peace. they capture all their sorrow, tears, anger, and screams of despair on screen for us to see because no one is listening as their people are slaughtered. whole lineages of families killed, children orphaned, parents carrying their dead child’s body parts in bags, children pleading for us to help them, speaking out IN ENGLISH so we can understand them, that this is what they are going through. please listen to them.
the things you will see on social media are graphic, you might feel sick to your stomach. you should. because this is happening across the world as we speak, and has happened for the past 75 years! and it must stop now. after october 7th, more outrage has emerged from the people, adding pressure on their governments to call for a ceasefire in Gaza.
people will try to devalue social media by saying its a “place where people are dumb on camera” but without it, it would NEVER had known what was going on, and i have never been so outraged by what i have seen.
if you don’t know what to do, you can start by not being silent. silence only allows the lies the Zionists are spreading to propagate, and deafens palestinian voices.
you can also educate yourself on what the palestinians have been going through. a very good site i’ve found is decolonizepalestine.com which i’m still learning from. other resources can be found online such as:
- a click a day to help:
https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/
- there is also a petition to Trudeau to call for a ceasefire at this link: https://www.ourcommons.ca/petitions/en/Petition/Details?Petition=e-4649 it closes Nov 23, 2023 at 3:20 p.m. so as many of you, please sign before the deadline! if you have already signed, thank you 🙏
- support palestinian voices online
there are also boycotts happening against the companies that are profiting and/or benefiting and supporting the genocide in Gaza. Some include:
- puma
- starbucks
- mcdonalds
- disney+
- burger king
- amazon
- chapters
- squishmallows
- HP
- sabra hummus
- Walmart
- israeli produce and items
etc etc i could go on and on. the point is, to not fund the israeli military.
this website has a complete list and shows which companies have been selected as part of their targeted boycott, to make a more effective boycott: https://bdsmovement.net/economic-boycott
and if boycotting these places is too hard for you, you are definitely not god’s strongest soldier 🫡 (and hey, you can also do it for selfish reasons, to save money by not buying out!)
if after reading all this you still want to turn a blind eye, i can’t stop you. but i hope you can live with that decision
as always, FREE PALESTINE & Ceasefire Now 🇵🇸🫶
links in order of appearance:
http://decolonizepalestine.com
https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/
https://bdsmovement.net/economic-boycott
https://www.ourcommons.ca/petitions/en/Petition/Details?Petition=e-4649
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cuddl3s4shur1 · 1 year
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Record Store III
ShuririxBlack Fem College Reader
Summary:As riri had a plan for a at home date you had to go out and met a old friend
Authors Note:YALL THOUGHT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS STORY (I did) ANYWAY I am lazy and did not pre read this . Read part 1 and 2 to get an understanding
Part 1 Part 2
Taglist: @iloveours @tuesdaylovesu @taiiunknown @ziayamikaelson @imshurisbabymama @2k7-sparkles @happydays0126 @letitias-fav @atssukoo @lunax0654 @niaalove @adeola-the-explorer @taiiunknown fill out the form or comment to be added :)
✷ ࣭ ࣪ ˖ ☞ ࣭ ࣪ ᩠ ֗ ✦ ࣭ ࣪
Y/n’s Pov
my towel it dropped Infront of my mf crush great .You do have bodyodyodyody but woah there buddy . You rush to get your towel and try to flee . In the corner of your eye you could see a small smirk on Shuri’S face . While walking into the bathroom.
Shit! You forgot the stuff you where supposed to get .
”Shuri are you still out their “ you yell “ yeah ma “ shuri says in a flirting voice.”Can you turn around ,No funny business either “ you say .”Alright Alright I’m turned around “ shuri says . You look out of the door way to see if she was “turn around shuri” you demand .
Shuri turns around and you get your stuff and run like the grinch . “Nice ass “ shuri says you look out the door way at her “You freaky asf “ you tell shuri . You close the bathroom door and you try to start your shower
“Ma can I join you in the shower,the shower shouldn’t be the only thing getting steamy “ tish says . “Shuri you a munch for real”you say .”So is that a yes “ she questions. “Hell no “ you responded yelling mostly. “But y/n “ shuri whines “yeah no " you yell
Riri's Pov
As I was watching abott elementary I begin to hear you and shuri go back and forth over something. I decide to be nosy and see what’s going on. I get up from the couch and head to your bedroom.
"Whats going on" I ask shuri it looks like you were taking a shower. "She won't let me shower with her" shuri says In a sad tone. “Leave her alone she trying to have peace “I say while laughing.
Than I thought of a idea What if we had a movie night In the house . We would have to find a way to get you out of the house to do it .
“Y/n we don’t have any tooth pace and snacks” I yell at the bathroom door . “I’ll go to the store after my shower riri “ you yell back but calm.
Y/n’s Pov
“Alright I’m going to run some errands I’ll be back “ You say leaving the apartment.
You got into Shuri’S car and Bluetooth your playlist.It was the playlist the was basically setting you up. Your playlist played summer walker deep. You buckled your seat belt and pulled out from your parking garage.
You went to multiple stores to get everything you needed but you also went shopping. You weren’t going home anytime soon
Shuri’s Pov
“So you need to make hang the lights from the door to her bedroom” riri says handing LED lights. Riri was making the front door the entrance to the movie.
“This looks prefect she’s going to love it “ riri exclaims excited . “I’m going to set the snack stand up and we’ll be good to go “ I started to help make the sign for the snacks .
“Where done all we have to do is wait for y/n to get home” riri says with a big smile and a hug.
Y/n’s Pov
You decided to stop at cafe and get coffee and just chill their for a bit.You went into Starbucks and ordered your drink. “Can I get a pink drink and the order is for y/n thank you” the person adds your order .
“Y/n that’s you” a unknown voice asks you from a far. The unknown comes closer it was your old friend kree. Kree had a crush on you for the longest he told you but you didn’t have feelings for him . After his confession the connection between you guys was awkward .
“Hey kree” you say unpleasantly.””You looking good “he says forcing you to do a 360.”thank you “ you force a small smile.You where hella uncomfortable right now but didn’t know what to do. “How you doing “ He asks being friendly . “I’m doing good kinda busy “ you say worried.
You start to look at other girls in the cafe to get your hint at some point you look at the barista.”So y/n may I take you out to night “ he says trying to be seductive.”Yeah no my partners would not like for me to cheat “ you say ending his dream. “You wouldn’t cheat it would just be old friends having a chat” he says trying to be slick.
“No thank you their very protective” he looks at you confused. “Their ,your a hoe “ you look at him stunned. You slap him “order for y/n” you get your drink and when you walk out you step on his toes . That totally ruined your mood ,at first you where happy but now you annoyed.
After that toxic interaction you decided to just head home. You parked your car in the garage and went to your apartment. You got your key to unlock your apartment door. “Y’all ain’t gonna believe what just happened you say as you walk in. You take your shoes off right away . You look up to see what they made .
“You guys you shouldn’t have “ you start to form a smile.”you guys definitely made my mood go up “ you say leaving the door way to see the living room. “Shuri Riri this is beautiful “ you look to left and right to see the kitchen .
“What happened” Shuri asks confused on the last thing you said . You got sit next to shuri on the couch. You tell shuri and riri what happened and the cafe .”What’s his name I’ll have my people handle him “ shuri says she began to get frustrated. “No it is ok” you say putting your hands on her shoulders . “You sure it’s ok” riri asks “yea I’m ok” you said .
After they settled down from the
cafe story we started are movie night .You guys ate snacks and watched multiple movies and shows .As you slowly started fall asleep you put your head on Riri’s shoulder .
Let’s just say tonight was the best date from home ever !
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chaoticharlotte · 3 months
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Day 2: First Date
Read it on AO3!
Evan and Sammy go on a date, trying desperately to not make it look like a date.
@fluffruaryprompts
====February 2nd, 1999====
“Are you ready for your date?” asked Charlie.
“It ain’t a date, Chara,” replied Sammy.
“Uh-huh, that’s why you’re putting on a fancy dress and using an illusion disk to go to a fucking coffee shop. They know what you look like without the illusion!”
“I can simply remove the voice box from the puppet, and it’s significantly easier to ignore your constant chatter when you’re forced to sign.”
“Cut it out, you two. I’m trying to fix Fredbear to make it easier for Chris and Cassidy to move around in the suit, and your ‘loud talking, I swear we’re not yelling’ is making it difficult to focus,” said Henry. “Anyway, have fun on your date, Sammy!”
“IT’S NOT A FUCKING DATE!”
====Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza====
Evan and Cassidy had opted to change which animatronic they were possessing while Fredbear was being repaired. Cassidy had joined her brother in Freddy, while Evan stuck with Fritz for a while.
“You nervous for your date with Sammy?” asked Fritz.
“It isn’t a date, Fritz.”
“Sure it ain’t, matey. That’s why you’ll be setting your illusion disk to have you in a suit and tie to a coffee shop of all things.”
Evan sighed. I wonder if Charlie is bullying Sammy in the same way. Hopefully Henry’s done with Fredbear before Sammy and I go to the coffee shop. If I’m correct about the pattern, Sammy will be a woman for this. 
He was snapped out of his train of thought by the sound of an unlocking door; either Sammy or Henry was bringing back the Fredbear suit, as they were the only ones who might have any reason to come over while closed.
“Christopher?” yelled Henry. Evan split from Foxy and floated over, then touched the Fredbear suit to get sucked back inside. He then activated the illusion disk.
“Thanks, Uncle Henry.”
“No problem, Evan. Have fun on your date!”
“Oh bloody hell, you too?” said Evan. Henry simply laughed at the Britishism.
====Late Latte Cafe====
Sammy and Evan arrived about the same time. Oh good, I got the pattern correct. Sammy is a woman right now, thought Evan. It didn’t affect the date in any way, of course (he was bisexual), but he’d been working on figuring out the pattern so the others didn’t have to stick to they/them when Sammy wasn’t in view.
The barista looked up, looked down, and then quickly looked back up as he did a double take. “May I take your order, uh, sir and ma’am?” The two of them ordered black coffees; unlike Starbucks, the local coffee shop had stuff that actually tasted like coffee when taken black.
“You certain the Fredbear suit will like that? I wouldn’t want to accidentally springlock Cassidy’s corpse, it would still hurt like hell even if you’re dead.”
“Sammy, I can’t control the suit unless it’s in animatronic mode. By the way, your dress looks stunning on you, darling.” A light blush dusted Sammy’s cheeks as she giggled. “So did Charlie and Uncle Henry bully you about this being a date like Fritz and Cassidy did with me?”
“I would be astonished if Chara DIDN’T bully me about this, but Papa was a bit of a surprise to me.” Evan laughed; Henry had a knack for surprising people with sudden teasing, and Sammy ran into the wrong end of it. “Then again...”
“Hm?”
Sammy took a deep breath. “Do you want to make this a date?” she asked, blushing slightly harder as she did so.
Evidently Chris was not expecting that question, as he started blushing a bit himself. “...yes. Let’s make our first date one we won’t forget, shall we love?”
Outside the cafe window, Cassidy and Charlie cheered silently.
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dorefasolsido · 8 months
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16.
1 - Are you interested in any reality TV shows?
No, but I like to watch videos movie commentary channels make on them.
2 - When was the last time you made plans with someone? What are you going to do with that person?
I made plans with two (potentially three?) friends to meet for the weekend. I guess we'll just have a coffee and chill, nothing that crazy.
3 - How often (if ever) do you use moisturizer?
Once in a while. I used to be more regular, but now I use SPF more often.
4 - Name five things you can touch from where you’re sitting right now:
Laptop, balcony fence, bug screen, table, chair
5 - Have you had any of your wisdom teeth removed? What was the reason? (eg. infection, impaction, lack of space).
Yup, the only wisdom tooth I actually had. It was either impaction or lack of space, can't remember exactly.
6 - What was the reason for your last hospital visit?
That was so long ago that I can't remember. Maybe some check up?
7 - Where was the last place you had an itch?
My nose just as I read this question lol. And now I'm getting itchy all over gaaah
8 - If you’re on a long car journey, would you rather drive or be the passenger?
Drive, I think.
9 - What’s the earliest time you’ve had to wake up for work? What about the latest time you’ve clocked off for the day?
I never had to wake up super early for work, but when I was just starting, I'd get up at around 9 AM. However, since I usually work at night, I sometimes clock off super late. A few times when I had deadlines close by, I worked pretty much until 7 AM.
10 - Do you use a laptop, desktop, tablet or phone to take your surveys?
Laptop, it's annoying on the phone.
11 - Are you fussy when it comes to how your surveys are formatted on your blog?
A little bit.
12 - How old were you when you first got internet access at home? Was it broadband or did you have dial-up first?
We had dial-up first, but I'm not sure how old I was. Maybe 5-6?
13 - When was the last time you painted your nails?
I think the beginning of the year. I don't bother normally, but sometimes I'll let my sister do it if she's in the mood and I'm in the mood for something different.
14 - What’s your typical order when you go to Starbucks (or wherever your favourite coffee shop is)?
I usually get hot chocolate.
15 - What’s your favourite thing to have on toast?
I don't really eat toast that way.
16 - Do you have any debt? If so, are you on top of paying it all back?
Hmm, not really.
17 - What was the last thing you purchased with a credit card?
I don't have a credit card.
18 - Have you been to college/university? If so, has your degree been useful to you or was it a bit of a waste of money?
Yup, and yes. I mean, I likely could've gotten this job without my English degree too, but I really think it's a bit of a boost. Plus, my university was free and I loved every second of it, so it definitely wasn't a waste either way.
19 - How often do you travel by public transport?
Whenever I have to go anywhere. So not every day, but a few times a a week for sure.
20 - Do you have an instagram account? If so, how often do you post on there and what kind of things do you post?
I have two, actually. One is like a fan account (though I only follow stuff there, I don't post), and the other is my personal account. On that second one I post from my trips sometimes, but I'm not very consistent at all.
21 - Are you close to your extended family? Do you wish you were closer?
With some of it, not all. I don't really wish we were closer, though. I'm close to those I want to be close with.
22 - Do you prefer to give your pets human names or not?
Hmmm, not quite, but then again, Lucifer is technically a human name?
23 - Do you like having ice in your drinks?
Sure, when it's hot.
24 - When was the last time you went to a BBQ restaurant?
I don't go to those, it works a little different here.
25 - When was the last time you re-arranged the furniture? Is this something you like to do often?
I don't remember, it's not something I normally do.
26 - Have you ever used a fire extinguisher? Would you know how to use one without reading the instructions?
I haven't, but I mean, it can't be that complicated since people are meant to use it on the spot.
27 - What’s the worst thing you’ve ever had to deal with at your job?
Lol casual calls. I'm super awkward with new people, so like, when we talk about professional stuff, no problem, but when you're supposed to be chill and funny, it's my worst nightmare. Takes me a bit to get there.
28 - What was the last thing you used your mobile phone for?
Just checking notifications. There are always SO many, I'm sick of it.
29 - Did you used to play The Sims? What version or expansion pack was your favourite one to play?
Yeees, I played all of the Simses. Sims 3 was (and still is) my shit, I'd get Generations, Seasons, Adventures, University Life and Nightlife and then fuck around for literal days.
30 - What was the last thing you used a lighter for?
I have no idea, it's been so long since I used one.
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whoreslovehotch · 2 years
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I will never leave you.
warnings: talk of pregnancy, pregnancy scare, infertility, a little bit of swearing
a/n: i cried writing this because i have a very high chance of not being able to have kids in the future and all i want is to be a mother one day so this hit a little close to home. anyways i hope u guys enjoy this:,) (i lost motivation half way through this so im very sorry for the bad writing)
notes: reader thinks shes pregnant but when she goes to the doctor they inform her of something that she thinks will make Aaron hate her.
Walking out of that bathroom you felt drunk, not in a good way either, you felt like the world was spinning and like you would pass out at any second. 
You and Aaron had been together for 8 months, you had moved in with him and jack already and become this little family with the perfect routines. You and Aaron weren’t the most cautious when it came to sex but you were on birth control so you assumed you were fine from the pregnancy scares, but boy were you wrong.
One day while you were home alone, jack being at school and Aaron being at work you decided to do a major clean around the house. Two hours into cleaning you had thrown up. You, being the over-thinker that you are started counting days since your last period. Finding out that you had missed your period by two weeks, were throwing up, and the smell of the cleaning products had been making you sick to your stomach was what led you to put on your shoes and grab your keys and make a b-line for the closest pharmacy, you needed a pregnancy test and you needed it now. You only bought one, thinking that you would go to the doctor for extra confirmation if it was positive. Walking back into the house you dropped everything by the door and ran upstairs to the master bathroom with your phone in one hand and the test in the other. 
The timer on your phone had fifteen seconds left on it and to say you were terrified would be an understatement. If it was negative then that’s awesome, that’s a weight off your shoulders. If it was positive then that’s a huge conversation you have to have with Aaron, you guys haven’t talked about that stuff yet. But to be fair you didn’t think you would end up pregnant. The timer went off and you raced to flip the test over, looking at the double lines on the test you were terrified.
Picking your things up and walking out of the room you felt drunk, not a good in a good way either. You felt like the world was spinning and like you would pass out at any second. You walked over to your bed and sat down, this was too much right now. You knew  you couldn’t tell Aaron, you needed to make sure everything was alright. After calling the doctor you set an alarm for your appointment for tomorrow at 9 a.m. Luckily Jack and Aaron would be gone by then so no one would know. You checked the time and saw that you would have to go pick up jack soon, so you hid the test, grabbed you purse, and left the house.
After picking Jack up you and the little boy both decided to bring his dad some Starbucks. You both knew Aaron doesn’t love having Starbucks with him around the office but sometimes he needed the pick-me up. 
After about a half an hour you and jack left to go home, picking up dinner on the way because Aaron was leaving right after you guys. Eating dinner with the Hotchner boys was so wholesome, and every time the thought of a baby popped in your head you shook it out, you didn’t even know if Hotch wanted more kids.
After dinner you gave Jack a bath and tucked him into bed, you following that path right after. You and Aaron got in bed and were almost instantly asleep because of how exhausted you both were.
You woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a note on the bedside table that Aaron brought jack to school and that he would be home around 2 p.m. That was really early so you were surprised but you weren’t complaining, more time to talk about the baby. Looking at the time you realized you slept through your alarm and had to be at the doctors in thirty minutes. Rushing out the door you made it just in time for them to call your name, walking into the  room you explained the situation as the doctor got ready to do a test. 
You weren’t pregnant, in fact you would never be pregnant. You had a genetic condition resulting in complete infertility, not even a chance of pregnancy. Leaving the doctors office and driving home was a blur. Aaron adored his kid and might want more. (plus the breeding kink sure says a lot about his thoughts on babies) What if he wanted another kid? He would leave you, find another women who’s not infertile, you would never see him or jack again. Would you be able to live like that?
Aaron walked into the house and found you wrapped in a blanket with tear stains on your cheeks. Hotch was immediately concerned. Rushing over to hold you. You explained to Aaron that you were infertile and that you would completely understand if her hated you, or if he wanted to split up, or if he wanted you out of the house right then and there. The things you told him hurt him, his heart hurt at you thinking he would ever hate you, especially for something like that. Yes maybe he thought about having another kid but he was perfectly happy with his family now, there was no demand for another kid one day. If down the line you guys really wanted another kid there were other ways to do so, and you guys would make it happen if you both wanted. You hugged Aaron, so relieved he didn’t hate you. “I will never leave you” were his most comforting words in that conversation, the sincerity in his voice reassured you that you guys would be okay.
You both went to pick Jack up from school and went out for food, you all deserved it. You all enjoyed the food and then went home, all falling asleep cuddling on the couch.
You were happy with your little family, and you didn’t need to have another kid because you guys were perfect like this. But hey, at least Aaron doesn’t have to buy you birth control anymore.
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chelleztjs18 · 3 years
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Lost in Assistance - Ch. 6
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GIF: I do not own this GIF.
Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?
Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)
All chapters
You are forced to wake up in a sudden by your alarm blaring. You squint your eyes, try to find your glasses or your phone to turn off that annoyance of the sounds of your alarm. You finally turned it off and put on your glasses then checked out the time. You forgot that you have to wake up earlier than you planned before Lizzie’s text yesterday. Once you see the time is 5 AM, you regretted that you stayed up late last night.
You groaned as you got out of the bed. Last night you decided to wake up at 5 AM just so you can give yourself enough time to get ready, let alone you have to try to beat the traffic to go to the office even though it’s Friday you just don’t want to take that risk, not today. Last but not least, you have to get the coffee that Lizzie specifically requested.
You try to get ready faster than usual. You picked semi casual attire for today with a low ponytail and flat shoes. You grabbed your purse, your laptop and every other thing you need for work today. You walk out then go to your mom’s room to check if your mom is awake.
“Ma, are you awake yet? I’m gonna go to work okay? I’ll see you when I get home. Love you.” You half whispered hoping your mom can hear you but not loud enough to wake her up just in case she is still sleeping.
“Okay, good luck on your first day my dear.” Your mom replies in a sleepy tone.
You left for work but had to drop by at Starbucks near the office to get Lizzie’s large black coffee with half and half and two pumps of hazelnut syrup so it will still be hot when she gets it. That’s how she likes it and it’s one of a few list of coffee beverages she likes besides her precious seasonal pumpkin spice latte.
You finally arrived at the office at 6 AM sharp. The main building is already open due to some offices having early operation hours. You confidently go up to the office thinking it is already open as well or at least opened for Lizzie who is meeting you there but to your surprise the door is still locked and all the lights are still off. Puzzled with what’s going on, you pull out your phone and try to contact Lizzie to figure out where she is.
You try to call her but no answer. You wait for a few minutes in front of the office, then you try to call her again, which leads to the same result, no answer. Hoping that you will get an answer if you try to reach her in a different way, you decided to text her.
"Good morning Ms. Olsen, I'm here at the office. Are you on your way here by any chance? Thanks." You texted anxiously yet irritated. Fifteen minutes went by and still no words whatsoever from her. You decided to go back to your car and wait there.
You hate waiting yet that’s the only thing you can do now. Luckily, you parked at one of the Vernon’s office reserved spots so it will be easy for you to spot Lizzie when she comes. You sighed with annoyance every time you checked your phone and found nothing from Lizzie. You watch the parking spots around you like a hawk to spot Lizzie but shortly you are betrayed by your body, your eyes slowly close and you fall asleep. All of a sudden you hear your phone ring, it’s Lizzie. You jolted to check the time to find it’s 8:05. “Sh*t! Sh*t! Sh*t!’ You cursed in your mind and answered the call.
”Hello. Ms. Olsen. I’m coming right up.” You explain right away while you gather your stuff to get going.  “Where are you?! You are late. I have been waiting here for 5 minutes.” Lizzie asked, pretending she was upset about waiting. Making you come two hours early and letting you wait was her plan. Little did you know, Lizzie actually saw you sleeping in the car when she parked. Of course she won’t let this situation go to waste so she decided to just go up to the office to make it look like you are late. 
You finally showed up with one hand holding your purse and your laptop, the other handing Lizzie her coffee. “Good morning. I’m so sorry. Here’s your coffee. I got here at-..” before you could finish your explanation she cuts you off. “Um, my coffee is not hot, Y/n. Why is it cold? I like hot coffee in the morning. You need to get me a new one on the way there. We gotta go now or we are gonna be late. Thanks to you.” She gave the coffee back to you and walked away.
Your jaw dropped. You are so flabbergasted and irritated at the same time with what just happened as you saw her walk away with no remorse whatsoever. 
“Aren’t you coming?” What Lizzie said snap you back to reality and you proceed to follow her to leave.
Lizzie decided to sit at the front passenger side with you driving. You drive in silence, still upset that you have to go to Starbucks to get her another hot coffee. You ordered hers and your usual coffee. You got both of your orders, you put yours in the cup holder and you hand her hers. “Ice coffee huh in the morning? Grande Espresso frappuccino, light ice double blended with extra shot in a venti cup. Just because you like cold coffee in the morning, it doesn’t mean other people like it too, you know?” She commented sarcastically.  “Ms. Olsen, I got there at 6 just like you wanted me to, I tried to call and text you but no answer. That’s why your coffee got cold. It has been sitting for two hours.” You broke your silence but are still trying to keep it cool.
“Oh yeah, I slept in, didn’t hear my alarm.” Lizzie answered nonchalantly.
“Are you kidd--” You said in your mind then you took a deep breath. Hearing how she answered you, it made you connect the dots and you know what she’s up to. You know it’s normal if she really slept in but this happened on the first day you work for her, coincidence much. 
“I see.” You said it sarcastically and nodded slightly. “What? What do you see?” You got her attention. “Oh nothing. You did it on purpose didn’t you? You are trying to give me a hard time working.” You calmly confront her. “I told you I slept in. It’s up to you how you gonna take my answer.” Another nonchalant answer came out from her. You chuckle sarcastically then pull over and turn your head to look at her. She looks back at you confused.
“Look, Ms. Olsen. I don’t sugar coat things so please hear me out, I know you don’t like me because I got hired as the assistant you thought you don’t need and I don’t fancy you either. What you did this morning is completely childish and to me, you really give yourself a bad name such as a brat. I’m just here doing my job. As professional as you are and as stubborn as you are, no matter what game you are playing now, I won’t quit because I’m not a quitter. So why don’t you just let me do my job until the contract ends?” You raise one of your eyebrows and give her an intimidating smile then you start to drive again to the location.
Despite the fact that Lizzie actually got caught off guard with what you just did and with everything you said, she refused to give in. In fact it just provoked her more and started to ramble angrily “I told you I slept in! Just so you know, I have my own reason why I don't need a new assistant! You know nothing about me! So don't you dare call me a brat! Don't get too cocky. I’m not a quitter either. I’ll win.” She replied and just like that, they soon got into an argument and everything turned into one competition between you two girls who have the same level of unyielding obduracy. Nonetheless, both of you are consumed by your own ego and anger. 
You scoffed. "Oh come on! We both know you did it on purpose! I'm not stupid! 2 plus 2 is 4! Why don't you want a new assistant anyway? It's not that bad!" You raised your tone a little.
"Why the hell do I have to tell you my reason?! It's a personal thing! You work for me, don't you remember that?! Being childish is way better than being cocky like you. Just because you are the best assistant that Mitchel has, doesn't mean you're better than anybody else! So if you are as professional as you said you are, why don't you just zip it and drive?!"
The driving is now filled with tension and awkward silence. You decide to turn on the music just to calm you down. Clair De Lune by Motez Remix plays. The tune is actually catchy enough to Lizzie’s ears, she never heard this song before so she secretly checked the title on y/n’s car screen. “I don’t like this, I want to listen to something else.” She lied just to push y/n’s button yet again. “My car, my choice of music.” Lizzie rolled her eyes to what you said.
Luckily the traffic wasn’t that bad, you both arrived at the location on time. Lizzie gets out of the car and slams the door as she is still upset with you.
The photoshoot session starts. Both of you only talk when it’s needed. Not a single eye contact happens between the two of you. After a few hours, it’s time for lunch. Lunch is already catered, you prepared a plate for her, place it on the table. You sit with the photographer and crews on another table near hers.
She sits and about to eat but was stopped by something she noticed on her plate. Something that she hates, onions.
“Umm, Y/n, I can’t eat this.” She pushed the plate away. “ And why is that?” curious why she said that, you go to take a look at her plate and notice what’s the problem. “Sorry, I didn’t notice there’s onions there.” You added.
“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind eating it if there’s no onion in it. Since you are my assistant, I will let you do your job just like what you asked me to do earlier.” She said it sarcastically but in a low tone and gave you a smirk, knowing she just served you back your own words from the argument earlier.
You realized what she wants you to do, it won’t look good if the photographer and the crew see you argue with you since they didn’t hear what ridiculous “assistance” Lizzie just asked you to do for her so you just do what she asked you to half heartedly.
The rest of the session continues then you both go back to the office when it’s all done. The whole ride was awkward and silent from both of you with soft music playing in the background. Tension is in the air but that doesn’t stop both of you secretly exchanging glances to each other without you both knowing.
You both arrived at the office’s parking structure  just to separate to go home and move on with your day.
Ch. 7
160 notes · View notes
13uswntimagines · 3 years
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Never Enough (Kristie Mewis x Reader)
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Request: mal x little sister!reader where the reader is always hidden behind mal's shadow
Author’s Note: So I really hope you like this (though it deviated slightly from the Request) and good luck to everyone starting their next semester of college!!
Pt. 2
You drummed your fingers absentmindedly on the table in front of you, your knees bouncing rapidly. You had just won the challenge cup (proving to the world that Huston wasn’t just the land of broken toys), the last thing you wanted to do was a press conference, but coach had insisted. At least you had Kristi with you.
She had taken you under her wing the second you had been transferred to Huston, becoming your best friend (though your feelings were more than friendly). She understood what it felt like to be overshadowed and could more easily grasp the fiasco that was Jill Ellis in charge of a roster.
Her hand grasped your thigh, halting its movement, and continuing on with the rest of the vapid reporters’ question without so much as a blink.
You probably should have been paying attention to whatever the fuck the reporters were asking, but honestly sitting back and letting the vet field the question so you could watch her answer was so much more your speed.
They didn’t want to ask you about soccer anyway, they wanted sister drama and you weren’t in the mood to indulge them.
You loved your older sister. You were adamant about that, but you didn’t always like her. You and Mal had never really gotten along, even as children. You were 3 years younger than her, always chasing after her, and always falling short. You had come so close, only to have it all ripped away.
****
3 weeks before the start of the World Cup
You glared at your packed suitcase, fighting the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes. Your fingers clenching and unclenching in a desperate attempt to keep your opportunity from slipping through your fingertips again.
You could still hear coaches' words ringing in your head. You weren’t living up to your last name, you weren’t good enough to wear it for your country.
You shook your head, retiring your attention to your very excited sister (who appeared to be completely oblivious to your distress). Mal and you were polar opposites. She was bubbly while you were shy. She had made it to UCLA while you had barely gotten into Texas A&M.
She paused in front of you, holding 2 celebration outfits for you to choose from in her hands.
“Cheer up, I’m going to the World Cup and your mopeyness is killing my mood,” She scoffed. You had been sulking since you came back from your meeting with coach, and while it was probably hard for you to be excluded, you should be happy that she was gonna get to live out one of her lifelong dreams.
You smiled weekly up at the woman “And I’m going back to Huston to watch you,” you blinked and pointed to the backless dress on the left, swallowing down the comment about how Jill’s teardown of your career had killed your mood too. “That one, Rosie likes you in blue,”
Mal rolled her eyes. She could practically hear your lamenting in her head. Enough was enough. This wasn’t about you, it was about the team. it was about being happy for others even when you didn’t get your way. “So, you weren’t good enough. You want us to win right?”
You shrugged, scratching the back of your neck. Of course, you wanted the team to win, but you had hoped that you would get the chance to help them in France. To have it taken just days before they left hurt more than you could put into words, all because you weren’t as good as your sister. “She said she could only take one of us and she chose you. It stings just a little bit,”
Mal gave you a scathing look. It was annoying how you were always doing what she was doing, how you were always running after her and her friends. She wasn’t happy when you started to play soccer, cause it was her thing. She was excited that the World Cup was going to be her thing. She didn’t want to share it with you, and she didn’t care how immature that sounded.
“Look, I’m a better fit for the squad, and for once in my life I wanna do something without you. Anyway, I’m going to celebrate, don’t wait up,”
The door slammed as she left, and it reverberated through you like the final nail in a coffin. How could she be so cold towards you? How could she agree with Jill? You sniffled once, burying yourself under a pile of blankets, your tears your only company.
****
“Y/n, my next question is for you,” A different reporter said when Kristie finished answering, pulling you back to reality. You sat up in your chair, blinking owlishly at the reporter.
“Oh, um go for it I guess,” You smiled shyly at the reporter, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Kristie squeezed your thigh when it began to bounce again. You blushed, more from the contact than from being caught daydreaming.
“First, congratulations on the win and being named tournament MVP,” The reporter smiled, and you nodded at her, the red that colored your cheeks making its way up to your ears. Kristie squeezed your leg again, and you brought your fingers down to tangle with hers.
“How did it feel to really get to show off in front of Vlatko Andonovski,” The reporter asked.
You let out a deep breath, buzzing your lips. How did you feel? You had scored 13 goals and brought the underdog team to victory. You didn’t just show off, you had implemented all the things he wanted you too when he called you up for a camp before the Shebelieves cup.
“Good, I felt good at camp, so it was really nice to get to show him how I’ve improved in the last few months while we’ve been quarantined,” You smiled, glancing at Kristie as she began to rub her thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly.
She was nervous when you got called to camp again. Terrified that they would crush you like they had before. Terrified that she wouldn’t be there to help you through the fallout of seeing your sister again for the first time in months.
*****
“You sure you have everything?” The blond midfielder asked for the 15th time since you entered the airport. You smiled softly at the woman, who was shifting foot to foot, bringing your joined hands up to kiss the back of her buckles.“Yeah,” You nodded,  glancing over her shoulder to the taller Mewis sister, who also nodded that you both had everything.
“And you’ll text me when you land and get to the hotel?” Kristie asked, pulling you to a stop and forcing you to face her. You Y/e/c orbs met her worried blue ones.
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, pulling the woman into you and tucking your head into the crook of her neck.“Yes, mom. I promise. Now give me a hug,”
She huffed, but still wrapped around you tightly and placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “I just care about you kid,”
“I know, and I love you for it,” You mumbled, into your favorite hiding spot. “now I’m gonna go get a coffee before I pass out,” You kissed her cheek before heading off towards the crappy airport Starbucks. She watched you go, fingers twitching by her side. How she wished to tell you that she loved you too (probably in a much different way than you loved her, but still).
“You’ve got it bad,” Sam snorted, patting her sister’s shoulder. She was visiting Kristie, so it was easier for her to get a flight out of Huston anyway, and in the time of her visit, her sister’s feelings for you had become abundantly clear.
She was glad that you had a shoulder to lean on. someone to confide in after your fallout with Mal. Though she had had several words with the younger player, the woman couldn’t seem to grasp your pain. At least her sister could understand it better than anyone, and she was clearly helping you overcome it.
Kristie blushed, shrugging slightly. “Maybe a little,” she hummed. It was hard not too. You were actually quite adorable once you let your walls come down.
Sam smirked (how she didn’t know you felt the same way, Sam would never know) “Does she know?”
The older mewis’s lips formed a thin line and she shook her head “no,”
It was complicated. The two of you were roommates, and you were just beginning to pull yourself together in the wake of Jill Ellis destroying your self-esteem.
She watched you grab your coffee, smiling at the young man behind the counter (who blushed). You had this incredible ability to light up everyone around you, like the sun. Though over the years you had lost some of your sunshine, you were beginning to gain it back. She didn’t want you to lose it again.
“Just keep an eye on her for me, alright? She was really messed up after what happened at the last camp,” Kristie said softly, faintly tearing her eyes away to look at her younger sister.
Sam nodded solemnly. “You know I will Kris,”
She knew how much you meant to her sister, and she would help you through whatever this camp brought, even if that meant keeping one of her best friends in line.
****
“My question is also for you Y/n,” A different reporter said, and you tilted your chin up at him in acknowledgment.
“We know that Mal is currently out with a knee injury, any idea on when she’ll be back with her team, and if that impacts your chances with Vlatko?” He asked, scribbling furiously on a notepad in front of him.
You tilted your head to the side, almost like a puppy. You weren’t abreast to Vlatkos’ plans (only that he seemed to be more attuned and aware than one Jill Ellis), and considering you hadn’t spoken to Mal in months, you were also clueless on her progress.
“Oh um, I have no idea about either of those questions, sorry,” You mumbled, biting your lip and shifting awkwardly in your chair. The man frowned at your answer, his pen pausing on the pad as he studied you over his horned rimmed glasses.
“Do you think you could beat her out for an Olympic roster spot? And if your success here will help your chances of taking her spot on the team?” He tried again, pointing his pen in your direction. Kristie’s thumb tapped the back of your hand again, three little taps, helping you focus and giving you a little bit of comfort.
You smirked at the man, masking your irritation behind a quip. “Again, I have no clue. That stuff is way above my paygrade,”
Kristie’s hand tightened around yours in warning, a reminder that biting a reporter’s head off wouldn’t make you feel better. It wouldn’t make them see that you didn’t want to be compared. It would just give them more ammunition to shoot at you.
“Do you feel overlooked, as you’ve continuously performed better than your sister within the NWSL?” A different reporter pipped in, looking at you expectantly.
You shrugged, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly come over the press tent. “Well, I think my average is helped by me not having to miss games due to national team duties,”
You swore a few of the reporter’s lips ticked up, and the pat on your thigh told you that your midfielder counterpart was pleased with the deflection.
“Do you think you’ll continue to be able to live up to your last name?” The horned rimmed man asked a vicious smirk etched on his face. You flinched slightly.
It was the one fear that plagued you. The one shortcoming that your parents preyed on. That you would never be as good as your sister. That you would never be the Pugh that she was. That you were undeserving of the name.
Kirstie’s arm was around you immediately, shielding your opening and closing mouth from the furiously clicking cameras as she pulled you to stand.
“I think this press conference is over. We’re very excited to have won and it’s time for us to celebrate,” She said stiffly, practically dragging your frozen form through the door towards your locker room.
You stumbled after her, eyes wide as you tried to catch up to what was happening. Your brain was still split between its lament over his you’d never escape your sister’s shadow (no matter how hard you tried) and the feeling of your crush’s arm wrapped tightly around you. It made you feel safe and warm and wanted. She made you feel like you had a place beside her, like how you were feeling was important.
She paused, pinning you against the cool cement wall of the stadium. You stared over her shoulder, adamantly refusing to look her in the eyes. You didn’t want her to see your inner struggle, to know that despite all her efforts, you still weren’t confident that you could ever be good enough.
“Hey, look at me.” She said, a finger on your chin forcing you to look up. Her blue eyes studied you for a moment, her hips pressing you to the wall while her other hand brushed a stray hair out of your face. “Are you ok?” She asked, her voice soft, hesitant.
“I’m great,” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I just fucking won the fucking Chaos cup and all the fuck they want to ask me about is how my sister is, and if I think I stand a chance against her in making a fucking roster. She hasn’t even talked to me since-...” your chest heaved as the words spilled from your mouth, like the steam from a pressure cooker unable to be contained any longer.
“Hey, take a breath,” her voice was soft as she wiped away the tears you didn’t even know were burning a path down your red cheeks. You leaned into her warm hands.
“I just. I want to be good enough,” You mumbled, your eyes closing with the admission. You didn’t want to be weak.
“Baby, you are enough. You’re more than enough. You’re funny and cute and an amazing forward. You aren’t your sister and that’s ok. You don’t need to be the best Mal, you just need to be the best, most amazing you you can be because I love you,” with every word she got closer to you, until your faces were mere inches apart, and you could feel her breath fan across your lips.
You leaned in the rest of the way and connected your lips with hers. Your mouths moved together, her tongue gently probing for entrance, which you gladly gave her. Her fingers tangled in the baby hairs at the base of your neck, while yours settled on her hips to pull her closer.
“You said you love me,” You smiled against her lips, pulling away when the need to breathe finally caught up with you.
“Hm, I do,” She hummed back, connecting your lips again.
Maybe to the soccer world, you would always stand in Mal’s shadows, but here in the belly of the stadium, you knew. You were enough for Kristie, and she was enough for you.
533 notes · View notes
gubler-me-up · 4 years
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Too Much Caffeine
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Request: hey i saw you wanted requests!! how about one where spencer and reader, (or OC, not a big deal) have a competition to who can go the longest without drinking coffee?? just pure fluff and sweetness
A/N: Thanks for the request, @rainy-day-gracie​! Sorry this took so long because I was trying to figure out whether or not I liked the third person narrative I was writing it in. It was hard writing in third person after writing in second person for 20 requests LOL I hope it’s an enjoyable read overall! 
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader
Category: Fluff
Content warning: None just pure competitive fluff
Word count: 3k
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Y/N walked into the office early Friday morning to get a head start with her case files. She thought if Hotch was in a good enough mood he would send her home early. That would only happen if he was in the happiest of moods. She didn’t think she’d put all her eggs in one basket hoping for that outcome, but her optimism was still high for the day. To get her spirits even higher she decided to start her day off with a fresh coffee.
As she entered the bullpen, she made a b-line towards the coffee maker. She wasn’t surprised to see Spencer Reid there making she assumed his third cup of coffee already. He was obviously pouring a ridiculous amount of sugar into his coffee and stirring it with an urgency as if he needed to drink it immediately. Y/N giggled to herself as she placed herself beside Spencer and nudging his arm with her elbow.
“Morning, Dr. Coffee Addict. Is that cup one or cup 30?” She joked.
He furrowed his eyebrows. “I would never have 30 cups of coffee in a day. This is only my second.”
“It’s 8:30 a.m. and you’re having a second cup? You should still be nursing your first cup,” she said.
He chuckled. “Coming from you? That’s rich.”
She playfully gasped. “What do you mean by that?”
“I think your coffee addiction is a tad more worrisome than mine. I’ve noticed you drink about seven cups a day.”
“I do not. You might be mixing me up with you, good doctor.”
“Y/N, I have an eidetic memory and you’re saying I’m lying? I only have four to five cups a day.”
“More like four to five cups an hour.”
“What are you two arguing over now?”
The two of them turned around to see Emily walking towards them. She looked at Spencer with his coffee in hand. Then she looked at Y/N and just knew she was bout to make a cup of coffee as well. She sighed and rolled her eyes at the amount of coffee addiction at one counter.
“What cup is this for you two? Reid, I’m guessing this is your second and Y/N, I’m guessing this is your first and your second will be in 15 minutes,” she said.
Both Y/N and Spencer looked at her in shock. Hearing someone outside of the two of them reflect on their coffee addiction got them to thinking. Was it really that bad? Emily chuckled as she put on a mischievous face which only meant no good. Y/N soon picked up on Emily’s face and got this sinking feeling.
“Oh no, what’s the face for, Em?” She asked.
“Well, I just think you two should have some sort of coffee intervention,” she suggested.
“Don’t tell me you want to take away the coffee maker,” Spencer said.
“Why take away the coffee maker and deprive the rest of us? I think you two should take a well-needed break from coffee and I think there should be an award system in place,” she suggested.
“You want to Pavlov us?” He asked.
“No, I’m not going to be the one handing out rewards. I think you two should have a friendly competition to see who can last the longest without drinking any caffeine for a whole day,” she suggested.
Y/N and Spencer looked at each other with skeptical eyes. Her need to win any competition was her burning desire to make a bet. Spencer’s desire to always be right was his motivation to even consider giving up coffee for a while. Y/N looked at Spencer with her hand stretched out for a handshake.
“If I win, you have to buy me dinner tonight. I’m in the mood for some Chinese,” she said.
Spencer scoffed. “Guess you won’t be having dinner tonight because when I do win you’ll have to buy me a cup of coffee for the rest of the month.”
“Deal,” she said.
Spencer grabbed her hand to shake on it. He didn’t think it would be hard at all for her to break. He knew how easily Y/N couldn’t say no to a cup of coffee. Though the look in her eyes showed a strong determination to win.
“I’ll be watching you two very closely,” Emily said.
“You should join us in the bet,” Y/N suggested.
Emily scoffed. “I’m not insane enough to do this bet. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make my first cup of the day.”
Emily took Spencer’s cup from his hands to take a sip. She immediately stopped drinking it and made a repulsed face. She could already feel a few cavities starting to set in. She went over to the sink and poured it out. Spencer looked at her in shock as he couldn’t believe she was wasting such a good cup of coffee.
“Yeah, Reid, this bet is probably going to save you from diabetes alone,” she said
Spencer looked thoroughly upset at Emily’s actions, but Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. She believed it was for the best Spencer partake in this bet to avoid sugar seeping into his bloodstream permanently. She gave him a small pat on the back before walking away as he still stood there arguing with Emily about her wasteful actions.
——————
Y/N looked at the time on her watch. It was only 11 a.m. She let out a long, exaggerated sigh as she thought about how many hours she had left on this stupid bet. Doing paperwork back to back with nothing to energize her was brutal punishment. She looked over to Spencer as he flew through his paperwork with his seventh cup of water not too far from his reach.
However, Y/N wasn’t buying that there was water in his cup. She knew he would get up any moment now to use the washroom and then she’d have the opportunity to check. It’s as if she planned it perfectly because he got up to leave his desk. She watched as he walked away and when she thought he was far enough, she got up to walk over to his desk.
She inspected the top of his desk to see if there were any remnants of sugar wrappers or fresh coffee stains. Nothing. Maybe she was underestimating his determination to go without coffee for the whole day. She looked into his empty mug to see if there were any signs of coffee.
‘I need a closer look,’ Y/N thought.
She picked up the mug and held it close enough to her face where she could smell if there were any traces of coffee. She took a deep sniff, but didn’t pick up on anything. Thinking her sense of smell was off, she lifted the mug a bit closer to her nose. She took another deep sniff. Nothing.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” She heard Spencer say.
She swiftly turned around to see Spencer behind her with a conniving smirk. He knew exactly what she was trying to do. He wasn’t a profiler for nothing after all. She placed the mug down and gave him an awkward smile.
“I was just checking to see if you needed a clean mug. Some of these mugs never get cleaned properly, it’s disgusting,” she said.
“Well, good thing I bring mine from home every day. Maybe if you spied more on Star Trek mug and less on me than you would know,” he joked.
She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t spying on you. That’s the last time I care about your well being when it comes to bacteria.”
“You can worry about lingering bacteria after I win the bet,” he said.
She rolled her eyes again, but with a certain flair. Spencer could see the fierceness in her eyes and knew she’d do anything to throw him off. He watched as she walked away back to her desk. He watched as she sat back down and she looked up at him noticing his long stare. She stuck out her tongue quickly at him before going back to her paperwork as if nothing had happened. Spencer chuckled. He’d get her back for that.
A few more hours had passed and it was 2 p.m. Spencer was now on his 14th cup of water and his bladder hated him for it. He was about to get up for his seventh washroom break until he saw JJ walking towards Y/N. He decided his bladder could wait a second. JJ had her purse with her and her reusable coffee mug in her hand. Her set up indicated to him she was going to get coffee and was going to ask Y/N if she wanted coffee.
“Hey, Y/N. I’m going to Starbucks, did you want me to get you a coffee?” JJ asked.
Y/N shook her head. “No, I’m good. Thanks though, J.”
“How come? You haven’t had a coffee all day and I think it’s affecting your paperwork,” Spencer chimed in.
Y/N looked over at Spencer with dagger eyes. JJ looked over at Spencer and saw him wearing a smart-aleck smirk. She looked at him suspiciously as to why he was eager to encourage Y/N to get a coffee. She was starting to think there was something off between both of them. It was strange enough Y/N hadn’t had a coffee all day, but Spencer not having coffee was even stranger.
“Why haven’t either of you had coffee today?” JJ asked.
“Don’t worry about that right now. Worry about Y/N’s Starbucks order. If I remember it’s usually a grande Americano with cream and three sugars. I’ll even pay for it for you if you’d like,” he said as he reached for his wallet.
“Don’t you dare. I only wanna see your wallet when you’re paying for the bill tonight after I win this bet?” Y/N said.
JJ raised a questionable eyebrow. “Bet?”
“Yes, Spencer and I have a bet as to who can last the longest without coffee for the day,” she explained.
JJ nodded. “I see. Well, if I had my bet on anyone I’d say Y/N is going to win.”
Spencer looked at JJ shocked. Appalled even. Y/N looked at him with the biggest smirk anyone could have. She did a little hair flip and gave him a sly side-eye.
“JJ, are you serious? You think I’m more of a coffee addict than Y/N?” He asked.
“Duh. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to your waters and whatever else you two can drink to suppress your coffee cravings while I go satisfy mine,” she said.
As she turned around to leave, Spencer watched her leave still in shock at what she said. He couldn’t believe she actually thought that. His thoughts were soon interrupted by a piece of balled up paper hitting his head. He instantly turned to the direction it came from and knew Y/N had thrown it. He glared at her, but she just stared at him with her unfaded smirk. He picked up the paper and held it up for her to see.
“Really? We’re throwing things now?” He asked.
“Well, if you’re going to try and sabotage me, I might as well try to attack you back in some way,” she said.
“I wasn’t trying to sabotage you,” he said as he threw the paper ball back at her.
She caught it in the air as she giggled at his pitch. He actually threw it pretty well. Even on his face he looked impressed and Y/N found it rather cute.
“Nice pitch, doctor. Maybe the next bet I win you can take me to a baseball game,” she said.
“The fact you already think you’re going to win is rather narcissistic of you,” he joked.
“It’s not narcissistic if it’s true,” she said as she threw the paper ball back at him.
The pitch was a bit too high and went over Spencer’s head. Y/N gasped as she saw the paper ball hit Emily on the head. She swiftly turned her chair around to glare at not only Y/N, but Spencer. Y/N gave her an awkward, sorry smile. Spencer spun around in his chair to see what happened and instantly felt Emily’s glare.
“You know, I can deal with you bickering between you two, but once weapons are involved I have to draw the line,” she said as she held up the paper ball.
“Yeah, Spencer. How dare you make a war out of this little competition?” Y/N said in an innocent voice.
“What?” Spencer exclaimed.
“Reid,” Emily said.
Spencer looked at Emily shocked. “Emily, are you serious right now? You know the angle of that paper ball couldn’t have possibly-”
“Emily, would you like anything to drink?” Y/N said as she got up from her seat.
“Ooo, yes. Coffee, please, with cream and sugar,” she said.
“Emily,” Spencer exclaimed.
“Don’t be jealous that I can drink caffeine today and you can’t,” she said.
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but decided it was best not to talk on deaf ears. He turned around and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. He looked at Y/N who was already looking at him. She winked at him before walking off to grab Emily’s coffee. He sighed again. Even though she wasn’t making this competition easy, she definitely made it entertaining for him.
It was finally 4:45 p.m. and the competition was coming to an end. Y/N was packing her things to leave and so was Spencer. They had both finished up their paperwork early and Hotch had given them both permission to leave early. Y/N was surprised her prayers had been answered when it came to Hotch’s mood for the day.
As they were finishing packing up, Morgan walked up to Spencer’s desk. He was holding two cans of coke in his hand. He gestured towards Y/N with the can in his right hand. He raised an eyebrow in question as to whether she wanted it. She shook her head. She wasn’t a big coke fan. Morgan then tapped Spencer’s shoulder to get his attention. He looked at him.
“Pretty boy, do you want a coke? Garcia and I were just cleaning out the fridge and wanted to get rid of some of the pops,” Morgan explained.
Spencer shrugged. “Sure. It’ll be a change from drinking thirty cups of water.”
He took the extra Coke from Morgan’s left hand. Morgan opened his and then Spencer followed. As soon as Y/N heard the can open, she realized that was the sound of victory. Morgan and Spencer clinked cans before taking a sip. Y/N nearly jumped out of her shoes as she pointed at Spencer with a huge smile.
“You lost,” she shouted.
“What? How?” He asked.
“Lost what?” Morgan asked.
“The bet,” she said.
“Ah, yes, I did hear about this bet from JJ and Emily. Well, this seems as if it’s going to get messy, so I’ll take my leave of absence. Happy weekend,” Morgan said before leaving.
“How did I lose?” Spencer asked.
Y/N laughed and couldn’t stop herself. She looked at him as he stared at her dumbfounded. He didn’t understand how he had lost by drinking a Coke. She eventually calmed herself down. She wanted to be cool and collected enough to explain her victory.
“Well, doctor, I hope you of all people know that there is caffeine in Coke,” she explained.
“But it’s not coffee,” he detested.
“Uh-uh, the bet was who can last the longest without caffeine, not coffee or has your eidetic memory failed you as well?” She joked.
Spencer sighed as he put down the can on his desk. He had to admit his defeat, but he didn’t feel the defeat as deeply as Y/N thought. Throughout the day his competitive spirit was wearing away as he and Y/N were goofing around with each other. He didn’t know how fun a competition with her could be. Definitely made his day a bit more interesting.
“I guess you won,” he said.
Y/N looked at him suspiciously. She knew how he got whenever he lost at something. He was a bit too calm for her liking. She was starting to think the little Coke incident wasn’t an accident.
“Did you purposely lose?” She asked.
“I would never purposely lose. It just so happened that I was strictly fixated on not drinking coffee that I didn’t even think drinking another caffeinated beverage would make me lose,” he explained.
She squinted her eyes at him. “I don’t think that’s all true.”
“I guess you don’t want Chinese tonight then,” he said as he picked up his satchel.
Y/N immediately hooked her arm under his. He slightly blushed as he looked at her. She looked at him with a gentle smile and even gentler eyes. He guessed her competitive spirit was finally gone for the day.
“I’m starting to think you losing was a clever scheme to take me out,” she said as they began walking towards the bullpen doors.
Spencer chuckled. “Maybe you could say that or maybe this is just your victory dinner you wanted. I’ll leave the interpretation up to you.”
She smiled. “I would like to interpret it as a small date if that’s alright with you.”
“That’s fine with me.”
Y/N squeezed his arm a little tighter from excitement. She knew from his passive replies that he wanted it to be a date. This was probably the best outcome she could have for a competition reward. She felt as if it was only fair for her to come clean to him if he had already lost.
“Hey, Spence. What would you say if, you know, I had taken a sip of Emily’s coffee when I was making it?” She asked.
“You what?” Spencer exclaimed.
“How about we discuss this over dinner?” She giggled.
“You definitely owe me coffee for the rest of the month,” he said.
“If we make them coffee dates, I wouldn’t mind,” she said.
He couldn’t help, but smile. “I’d love that.”
—–
MASTERLIST
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shirophantomvox · 3 years
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First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)
Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m
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It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.
As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.
“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”
-Chrollo
At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.
“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.
Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.
“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”
“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”
The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.
The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.
Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.
The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.
First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.
“Do you drink coffee?”
“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”
“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”
To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.
It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.
“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”
“What’s the name for this drink?”
“Chrollo,” you responded.
“And for you?”
“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”
“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”
Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.
“It’s ok. I got it.”
You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”
He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”
The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.
As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.
It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.
“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”
“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.
“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”
You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.
Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.
You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.
There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.
At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.
“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”
“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”
“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”
Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?
Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.
On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.
Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.
“I see you catch on quick.”
“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”
“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”
It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.
Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.
“I’ll only be gone for a second.”
Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!
Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.
“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”
He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”
“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”
“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.
Wow! That was quick!
“What do you mean?”
“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”
A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.
The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.
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xseaxwitchxkpop · 3 years
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Have Your Cake and Eat It, (2)
I tried to be a little punny with the title, forgive my cringe humor. Anyway, here’s part two and I am DEFINITELY making a part three to this because I want to get a little more filthy with it but the ending just felt right, ya know? SMUTTY SMUT SMUT AHEAD
Part One // Part Three
Dislcaimers/CW: mommy kink, fem!reader, dom!reader, dom!Yunho, sub!San, tall!reader, plussize!reader, choking, riding, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), vibrators, daddy kink, shibari, voureyism, blowjob
Requested: NO
Group: ATEEZ -- San, Yunho
Word Count: 2,875
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You stood outside the boys’ dorm, waiting for Yunho and San to meet you at the front door. The three of you felt it would be best to have fun the day before San’s birthday so San would be in the best mood possible and so you two could spoil him all day. 
The two boys in question finally came out, San holding Yunho’s hand and the three of you set off to brunch at San’s favorite cafe. The birthday boy set himself between the two of you, taking each of your hands like a child with his parents. You and Yunho were about the same height, so this made the picture of the three of you adorable -- you could probably swing San if you tried hard enough.
To anyone looking on, the three of you were just friends going to brunch, but each of you knew better. San wore a vibrator up his ass that was connected to yours and Yunho’s phone, making the foreplay before night that much more fun. When you three sat down and decided on your food, the waiter came by to take your orders. As San was ordering, you took out your phone and turned the vibrator to medium, taking him by surprise in which he barely held in a whine before the waiter left. He shot you a look and you just shrugged, smile playing on your lips and eyes gleaming with dominance. 
When the waiter delivered the food, you put the vibrator on low and left it on for the duration of the meal. The vibrator in his ass combined with Yunho casually stroking the inside of his thigh and coming close to his dick but never touching it, San couldn’t help but let out a couple of quiet moans, struggling to not cum in his pants at the table. 
Yunho leaned over and whispered in San’s ear, “Is my sweet prince having a hard time behaving himself?” before quickly nibbling his ear then returning to the conversation you and he were having. San let out a low whine, accidentally catching the attention of the table next to yours. 
When you noticed, you turned and said to them, “Can we help you with something?” They went back to their meals and pretended nothing happened. 
San’s hand flew to Yunho’s, grasping it in a death grip as if begging for the vibrator to be turned off. “Please, daddy…” he mumbled, face scrunching up in a visible effort to not ruin his pants more than they already are -- good thing he wore black. 
Yunho chuckled, making eye contact with you then looking back at San to answer, “Baby, I’m not the one to ask.” At that point, San turned his attention to you, hand still gripping Yunho’s, and pleaded with his eyes. You took mercy on him, considering part of the fun was edging him all day.
San let out a sigh of relief and finished his food. “Did you enjoy your food, baby boy?” you asked as you three got up, linking your arm around his and Yunho going to pay for the food. 
“Yes, I did. Can we get Starbucks? I’m craving something sweet and I don’t want to wait for cake tomorrow,” he whined, hoping that acting cute would help in his persuasion. He knew he succeeded when you took a left at the traffic light, walking towards the Starbucks that was on the other side of the street.
It was only about 1pm when the lot of you were done with brunch and got Starbucks, so Yunho decided that it would be fun to window-shop at the mall and maybe buy a couple of early presents if San wanted to. 
---------------------------------------------------------
It was about 8:30pm when you three entered your apartment, placing a couple of bags on the floor and putting some snacks from the convenience store on the counter. San didn’t really want much in terms of material objects, so the bags had mostly snacks for post-sex comfort and one Pusheen plushie that San couldn’t say no to. 
The shorter male made his way to your couch and plopped down, watching as you and Yunho brought the bags of snacks and water to the bedroom, sucking on a lollipop he snuck from a bag before either you or Yunho noticed and could stop him.
His phone buzzed as he got a text from Wooyoung. 
Sannie~ are you gonna spend the night at Y/N’s place? I’m making dinner and I need to know how many plates to have. Is Yunho gonna spend the night, too, or is he coming back?
San sent a quick reply with not too much detail as all the other members were told was that you couldn’t get the day off tomorrow to celebrate so you decided to celebrate today with Yunho; the members accepted this with almost no question, though Yeosang found it just a bit fishy. He always managed to see through bullshit but at least he never pressed. 
Yeah, we are. Don’t bother to set up for us. We’ll be back tomorrow, late morning <3
“Whatcha doin’ there, sweetheart?” you whispered in his ear from behind, causing him to jump a little. He tried to turn around but your hand snaked up to his throat, squeezing a little and forcing his head back, your breath playing on his ear. 
All San could do was whine as Yunho took his phone away and placed it on the coffee table, you guiding San to lean against your chest with your hand on his throat as you moved back to lean against the arm, San positioned between your legs.
Yunho sat with a leg underneath him, hand coming up from the hem of San’s button-down shirt and lightly tracing his abs, San’s breath hitching from the light touches and sensation of being lightly choked.
Your free hand replaced Yunho’s as Yunho took both his hands and slowly unbuckled San’s belt, dragging his pants down agonizingly slowly. 
San’s dick throbbed, an obvious wet spot already starting to form on his underwear from barely any ministrations from either you or Yunho. Perhaps it was the thought of what the night held that made him so hard, but all he could do was whine out as your hand on his throat restricted him from properly speaking. 
“Look at your pretty cock, baby, all ready for us. What a slut you are, hmm? All that edging all day must’ve been hard for a greedy whore like you,” you gently whispered in his ear, hand moving from his abs to tweaking one of his nipples, pulling his shirt up with your arm to do so. His whine increased in pitch as his dick visibly twitched and his breathing sped up.
“Please….momma....daddy….I jus’....please….,” he managed to choke out in desperation, you and Yunho touching him everywhere except where he needed it the most.
Yunho situated himself between San’s legs, taking San’s cock in his mouth and placing his hands on the boy’s hips to steady himself and make sure San’s hips didn’t jerk up and hurt his throat.
At this point you released your hand from his neck, taking to playing with his nipples and dusting kisses across his neck that you had access to; you wanted to hear his sweet sounds as you know Yunho did as well. 
Yunho set to work, giving a sloppy blowjob and drawing out various high-pitched moans and “daddy”s from San. The birthday boy was enjoying every bit of what you two gave him, nearly lost in the sensations of your touches and Yunho on his dick.
“‘M close, so close, so---” he cut himself with a strangled moan, an audible effort to not cum without anyone’s permission because then he would face punishment and that’s not what he wanted tonight. 
Yunho popped San’s dick out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to San, as San’s dick landing on his abdomen. You had never thought that could be a turn on, but there you were, messing with San’s nipples as you took in that glorious sight, panties getting soaked and knowing that San could feel it on his back through your underwear and thin sundress. 
Yunho dragged his nails down San’s thighs and smirked as San let out a sigh of content. Suddenly, Yunho took San’s dick back in his mouth and continued what he did before, San letting out a gasp and you gripping his chest and arm. 
“Remember, whore, you can’t cum until I say you can,” you said, dominance lacing your voice. San heard you, but couldn’t stop himself from releasing into Yunho’s mouth with a low, drawn-out moan, then immediately hating his body for betraying him.
“Tsk-tsk,” you tutted, biting the shell of his ear. Yunho, with San’s cum in his mouth, sat up and hovered over you and San, kissing San hard on the mouth and forcing him to swallow his own load. San laid limp in your arms, panting and glowing in a sheen of sweat once Yunho was done. The dominant male placed a quick kiss on the other male’s forehead, then proceeded to get up and start removing his shirt. 
You couldn’t help but look at the obvious bulge in his pants, and a large one at that. You felt your pussy throb and mouth water slightly as you imagined what it would be like to have his cock stretch you out perfectly. 
Yunho disappeared into your bedroom and didn’t come back out. You took that as a sign to move to the bedroom, but also realized that meant dragging San with you.
You pushed him up, forcing him to stand and follow you to the bedroom, taking off his shirt as he did so.
When he crossed the threshold, you turned around and put one hand on his shoulder and another on his cheek to caress his face. “Now, what am I gonna do with my disobedient cumslut, hmm? You came without permission, one rule you broke and so soon.”
San looked at you with horny apprehension, not knowing what you had planned for punishment. In honesty, he surprised himself from coming so soon and without permission -- he’s always pretty obedient.
Yunho came up from the side and pulled your hands away from San, then guiding him to a chair, pushing him in it. “I think,” he said, tapping his chin in faux thought, “that the baby boy doesn’t get to play with mommy for a long time.” You stood where you were, watching Yunho tie San’s arms to the chair with sage green silk rope with expertise, making sure the rope wasn’t too tight and the shears for any emergencies on your dresser for quick access.
Yunho then tied San’s legs to the chair with the same colored silk rope with the same expertise he did with the arms. He took San’s chin and lifted his head to look him in the eyes. “You get to watch daddy fuck mistress without touching yourself, prince. Wanna see if my baby boy can cum without being touched since you’re so eager to disobey us?” San’s breathing visibly sped up in response to Yunho’s words, San’s dick already getting half-hard again at the thought. He nodded his head “yes” vigorously. 
Yunho smirked and turned his attention to you, eyes raking over your body, painfully hard in his too-restricting jeans at anticipation of finally getting to fuck you. You met his eyes with the same energy, two dominant forces getting to ravage each other and in front of their shared submissive, no less.
The male stalked over to you and ran his hands up and down your arms, your hands not hesitating to go to his pants and make quick work of his belt and took his dick in your hands. He let out a deep moan, closing his eyes briefly at the contact. He opened his eyes again and hiked up your dress and dived into your panties, rubbing brief circles over your clit and dipping two fingers into your folds. It was your turn to moan, the contact feeling so good after aching for a while. 
He took his hand away as you took yours away and you pushed him to the bed, ripping his pants and underwear off. As he laid on his back, you straddled him and rubbed your clothed pussy on his dick, Yunho hissing at the contact. “C’mon, daddy, I know you want to see my tits and play with my nipples,” you taunt, spitting his title at him in mockery. You look over at San whose eyes are completely blown with lust, intently watching the scene play out before him, his arms straining against his restraints and dick now completely hard again. 
You look back at Yunho, making eye contact and challenging him to touch you in the way he wanted to. He took the challenge, slipping the sleeves off your shoulders and off your tits, the top half of the dress now hanging below your breasts. He lifted himself up a little, made quick work of your bra clasps, and threw your bra at San on the chair who whined a little in response at the humiliation and want to bury himself in your breasts, not Yunho.
Yunho’s hands went immediately to your breasts, playing with your nipples and drawing out a little moan from you as you continued to grind down on his cock. “It’s a little too quiet for my liking,” Yunho said suddenly, reaching for his phone on the nightstand and turning up the vibrator in San’s ass to high. San let out a yelp and a string of moans at the unexpected stimulation, hips bucking a little and legs straining against the sage green rope, making your pussy even more wet and practically soaking your panties to the point that Yunho couldn’t even hiss at the roughness of the fabric anymore. 
“Our baby boy is so adorable, isn’t he?” Yunho asked you, forcing your attention back to him. You took the phone from Yunho’s hand and put it back on the nightstand, leaving San to be tortured by the device and you quickly took off your panties and aligned Yunho’s cock with your entrance. 
He smirked at you, debating if he should say what was on the tip of his tongue. He said it anyway. “My my, mommy is eager for my dick.” He spit your title back at you the way you did with him. Just for that, you quickly sunk yourself onto his cock, bouncing immediately and not giving either you time to adjust to his length or him time to adjust to your heat.
Your moans of pleasure and his soon met with San’s and the sound of the vibrator, creating a symphony of sin in Seoul. All titles were forgotten, dominant and submissive roles forgotten by everyone in the chase of release.
San soon came a second time, coating his abdomen in white and moans drowning out the noises of pleasure from you and Yunho. He slumped against the chair, dick still twitching and eyes watering from the overstimulation of the vibrator, drawing out his orgasm and speeding his way to another despite his tiredness. You slowed down to rocking back and forth on Yunho and both you and Yunho turned your attention to San. As the vibrator drew out his third orgasm of the night, he threw his head back with a couple of tears falling from his eyes and staining his cheeks, cock painfully red and he whimpered and whined in response.
Yunho reached for his phone and turned off the vibrator, giving San a chance to catch his breath. After a minute, you asked San, “What color, sweetheart?”
Despite his obvious exhaustion, he managed to smile at you and said, “Green,” in a weak voice. 
“Are you sure, baby?” Yunho asked a second time, making sure that San wasn’t pushing himself just to please himself and you. 
“I’m….sure,” he barely managed to get out. You immediately got off of Yunho and put the straps of your dress back on your shoulders absentmindedly, carefully untying the ropes and peppering kisses on San where the ropes dug in especially hard. Yunho worked to collect a couple of blankets to make the bed as cozy as possible for San to make him feel safe and loved.
San stood up weakly, leaning heavily on you, and allowing you to drag him to the bed. He laid in between you and Yunho, you petting his head and Yunho gently cleaning his stomach of cum with a baby wipe. 
“I said I’m fine, I wanna continue,” San weakly protested. 
“No, you’re not, sweety, you can barely get out a sentence and you have tears coming from your eyes,” you responded, “there’s nothing wrong with taking a break if you need it.”
Yunho’s only response was a hum of agreement and a kiss on the forehead for San as he gently took out the vibrator, quickly wiping it down with a baby wipe for easier cleaning tomorrow.
Before he knew it, San fell fast asleep to whispers of praise from you and Yunho. You followed suit, hugging San in your sleep and Yunho shortly after you, trying to hug you both.
134 notes · View notes
zaikaglow · 3 years
Text
Betrayal
For @mikaberries 4k Celebration Collab
Pairing: Bertholdt Hoover x Reader
Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, dacryphilia, abandonment 
Summary: You feel your relationship has run its course but youre unable to get out and you feel trapped leaving you with only one option, but can you bring yourself to do it?
“You're really sure about this y/n”? Hitch asks, sitting in the driver's seat of her Subaru palms just grazing the wheel as she drums on it with her pink fingernails. Sitting in the passenger's seat you pull your knees to your chest and look out at the Starbucks parking lot. Your face is starting to heat up at the shame of what you just told her. “I just really don’t know how else to do it” you mutter, wishing that maybe you had just kept your little plan to yourself that you didn’t get your best friend Hitch involved. She turns to you this time before she speaks “I just really can’t believe you wanna do that to him, just leave totally ghost the poor guy after what? 4 years? Come on y/n be an adult”. 
You can tell she’s scowling at you now “Hitch what would you do if Marlo asked you to marry him?” she laughs “well I’d tell him no, I’m not ready for that and not just pack up all my shit in the middle of the night and ask my best friend to be my getaway driver”. You were trying to choke back tears of frustration when you weakly mutter “that wouldn't work on Bertholdt”. “Come on y/n you're being ridiculous what do you mean that wouldn't work” her eyebrows knit together as she looks at you with more concern than contempt now. “Remember when I told you I was going to break up with him last year”?
“Yeah but then you two went to dinner and talked it out and you decided to stay together”
“That’s not exactly what happened. I started trying to breakup with him but he started crying and saying how he didn’t even think he could imagine life without me and everyone started staring and I just told him we could work it out”
“Okay so just don’t do it in a public place again” she takes a sip of her iced coffee
“God dammit Hitch! I’m an adult don’t you think I thought of that? Every time I’ve tried to break up with him he just starts either smothering me telling me how much he loves me or starts crying and going on about how he doesn’t know how to go on living.” Getting more exasperated at trying to make her understand you place your head into your palms “I swear that's the whole reason he asked me to marry him”
Hitch sighs “Do you still love him?”
“I don't know anymore Hitch”
“Okay how about you make an actual attempt to end it tonight, I’ll still drive you and you can stay with me until you get stuff figured out but please don’t just disappear on him”
“Fine i'll make a last attempt but if it doesn’t work will you still come get me?”
“Sure what else are friends for y/n” 
It’s later in the evening when you make it back to your shared apartment and your heart is beating in your chest. You're going to do it, you're actually going to be an adult and tell Bertholdt that you're breaking up. You're not getting married and you don’t care about how much he’s crying or the way he wraps his big arms around your body and pulls you close and whispers “stay” over and over. But then you walk in and he’s there and the way his eyes light up when he sees you makes your heart swell and you start to wonder if you can really go through with this “y/n! I’m glad your home I made dinner it’s your favorite” he walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulder “Don’t worry i'm not trying to sway you, I told you that you can take your time to think about my proposal” he smiles “unless you want to say yes right now I’d be okay with that”. Oh god the swelling in your heart is gone and is now replaced with the feeling of being drowned by him, even his touch no longer feels like that of a lover but of a weird stranger. “Uh actually I think” you're interrupted by a kiss, as his hands slide up from your shoulders up the back of your neck into your hair. His lips move to your neck “I’m only joking baby, take your time”. God this is what he did. You could tell he knew what you were trying to do and he was going to try to seduce you into staying with him. His lips lose contact with your neck as he reaches down to pick you up and place you on the counter. He brushes the hair out of your face with one hand, the other resting on your cheek “you know I love you y/n”. You place your hand over his “I love you too” it wasn’t entirely a lie. You truly do think that you still love him in a way which is why what you were going to do was going to hurt. “Let’s go to the bedroom” at which he grins and picks you up again carrying you to the shared bedroom. And you hope to god he doesn’t see the suitcase stored under the bed.
His hips press into the space between your thighs right where he fits perfectly, as you two would joke. His hands go to start toying with the hemline of your shirt, when you look up into his soft blue eyes and push his bangs out of his face “hey, how about we try something” you practically whisper he ruts his cholted cock against you as he kisses that sensitive spot behind your ear reply “yeah what do you want to try” . You grab him by both sides of his jaw bringing him back up to meet your gaze “how about you fuck me like its the last time?” his lustful look is replaced with a mix of concern and a smile trying to hide it “I don’t know if I like that game y/n”. Moving your thumb in small circles against his cheek you smile “I mean just like as passionate as if this were our last time together” you can see his gaze soften at your reassurance. “Okay” ending his reply with a kiss. Large but soft hands run down your neck thumbs tracing your pulse point as he moves towards your breasts giving them a gentle squeeze before moving back to that hemline pushing it up so he can start planting kisses by your belly button making his was up your torso moving the shirt up along with his head until it reaches the bottom of your rib cage where you take the hem in your hand and remove the shirt and bra yourself. Bertholdt pinches your nipple between his top teeth and his bottom lip rolling it into his mouth and soothing the sting of his teeth with his tongue, as his other hand grips your other breast rolling the nipple with his thumb. Legs wrapped around him tightening as the overwhelming stimulation in your tits is causing you to start grinding against his hardened dick in his pants desperate for friction. He pulls away sitting up to pull off his own shirt “hey slow down if this is the last time im fucking you I’d rather make it last” he says with a small chuckle before going to work at your own pants as he slides them down your legs and then lays himself down between your legs. He starts with a wet kiss to the side of your right thigh before making his way down to your core fingers running over your clothed slit before grabbing the waist band and pulling them down. “That's my good girl” he sighs as you spread your legs further apart and grips the sheets at the sensation of his hot breath fanning over your now exposed cunt. A feather light kiss greats your clit before he starts to use the flat of his tongue to lick circles around it as he dips his long delicate fingers into your core and all you can do is grip his locks of dark hair. His fingers dragging against your swollen walls bringing you closer and closer until he switches to suctioning on your swollen bud pushing you over the edge. You squirm under his grip around your thighs as he keeps licking to help you ride out your high. You pull his head off of you, feeling his resistance and attempting to make contact with you again. His jeans already have a wet spot from the way he was rutting his hips into the mattress, so excited at the pleasure he was giving you. He takes off his jeans before sliding back over you, his weeping cock laying on your stomach. You pull his head down into a kiss as he takes his cock and rubs the wet head against your clit before sliding it into you. His hip movements are rhythmic, dragging out slowly and thrusting back in faster and you cant help but to blurt out “I love you, I love you, I love you” over and over at his thrusts; it's almost like a prayer, no, an absolution. The building of guilt at the betrayal to this man's love that you were about to perform, and when he says it back you can't help it and you feel tears start to streak down your face. Bertholdt shifts up and grabs your legs throwing them over his shoulder, head ever so slightly turning to the left to kiss your ankle “it’s okay sweetheart I’ve got you” he says before continuing his thrusting. The tears are still streaming down your face as your head throws back into the pillow at the new deeper angle. Legs still over his shoulder he brings his forehead down to meet yours and he’s so deep you can feel him start to brush against your cervix hurting in the best sort of way. His hips begin to stutter as you feel the warmth of his release into you, and you can feel it start to drip down your thighs as he pulls out of you and wraps you in his arms. “I love you y/n, I really do”
It’s been about 2 hours since you’ve settled down for bed, you're pretty sure he’s sound asleep by the strange way his body is contorted, and you think about how you’ll never wake up hitting the floor because your boyfriend accidentally pushed you out of bed with his crazy sleeping positions again and your chest hurts. “Berty, Berty are you up?” you mutter sweetly but the tall man just continues to slumber. You pull your suitcase out from under the bed, it's packed with all the essentials and you’d probably have to convince Hitch to come and collect the rest of your things for you, no way you could stand to face him after what you were about to do. God you felt like such a bitch you couldn’t have one hard conversation? You had to do it this way? It was so hard because you did love Bertholdt. You weren't lying earlier, you really did love him! But you know this won’t work so you'll continue to feel like something isn't quite right, not exactly whole. So this is the only way you can do it, the only way you can escape from this relationship without the love you feel for him pulling you back in.
You sit in the foyer of the apartment building on your stuffed suitcase and pull out your phone and call her “Hey Hitch” choking back a sob causes a cracking in your voice “can you come get me now”
“Of course, I’m sorry your talk must have been hard”
“We’ll we didn't have the talk per say”
“What do you mean?”
“Well we had sex and I just couldn’t do it Hitch it just has to be this way”
There's a long pause from the other end of the line
“You know y/n, I love you but right now I really don't like you”
You start to sob “I’m sorry I don’t know why I couldn’t, but I left a note”
Hitch sighs before replying “It’s okay we’ll talk more later, i'll be there in 15”
107 notes · View notes
yoonjinkooked · 4 years
Text
Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien | Jimin
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moodboard by the lovely and amazing @flajka, who was also my #1 helper and support through the torturous 10 month journey that this story was. 
Pairing: Jimin / Reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Strangers to lovers, smut, romcom
Warnings: explicit sex, slight exhibitionism (fingering, out in the open but not in public, boat sex, oral (f and m receiving) brief but gory painting description, a lot of cursing, Jimin will end you Word Count: 19k+  Summary: You keep meeting a handsome stranger in Paris. One coincidence after another leads to the most amazing trip of your life A/N: This shit took 10 months to write. Thank @flajka, Kehlani and Jimin’s sexy Paris photos.  Spotify playlists for this fic are: 1 / 2 / 3  - I had to separate them because you can’t put Edith Piaf on the same playlist as Ace Of Base.  Hope you enjoy! 
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Looking up from the screen of your phone, you blink once, twice, three times – you are not where you are supposed to be and Google maps are the stupidest invention ever.
It took you two hours to find your Airbnb apartment yesterday, all because Google maps were not quite user friendly. Not to mention that your sense of direction was utterly pathetic.
Yet despite all of that, you were absolutely positive that finding ‘Shakespeare and company’ would be an easy task – after all, you were so close to it, having just spent 10 minutes mourning the fact that the Notre-Dame was still very much unapproachable. From there to the bookstore, the route should have been easy to follow but alas, it was not. Somehow, you have managed to confuse yourself even further.
Looking around in place, you breathe a sigh of relief when you see the green doors and a sign that tells you that perhaps your sense of direction isn’t as bad as you think it is – ‘Shakespeare and Company’.
There it is, the bookstore with such rich history, one of your must-see places in Paris, something that the ‘Midnight in Paris’ lover in you had to tick off the list – there it is, right before you and very much closed. You check the time, finding that it is almost nine – a quick Google search, which is something you should have done before leaving your apartment – tells you that it opens up at half past nine.
You don’t have time, you absolutely don’t have time to sit around and wait for it to open. It’s going to take you some time to reach the 7th Arrondissement and once you do get there, two museums await. Wasting time, waiting for a bookstore to open is not a luxury you can afford right now.
Perhaps you will have time before you leave. After all, you still have a week to spend in the city of light and although your plans are pretty strict and well-organized, you are aware that some changes are bound to happen. But you will leave that for the last day – right now, you only have a few minutes of your life to offer to a closed bookstore.
As you take photos of the famed location, you recall the comments your mother made before you left, about how a young woman shouldn’t travel alone in a foreign country. She had a point – one shouldn’t travel alone if they want to have at least one photo of themselves on the memory card. It sucks a bit but you don’t let it dampen your mood – you don’t need photos to preserve the memories. A selfie stick was always an option but it was also beneath you – something you’ve decided when they first appeared.
“Is it closed?” a voice asks from behind you, making you jump a bit, as you weren’t aware that you had company. The man looking at you seems to be about your age and a tourist, if the camera around his neck is anything to go by. The brief once-over you give him lets you know he is also unnaturally attractive.
“Yeah,” you tell him, offering him a compassionate smile when you see his expression sour. “It should open soon though – about half an hour, if Google is correct.”
“Thanks for the info,” he smiles, before he lifts up his camera and starts taking photos. You realize that the chit-chat is over, so you resume taking photos as well. Just a few seconds later, his presence gave you an idea.
“Hey, would you mind taking a photo of me?” you ask sheepishly, smiling when he nods his head at once. “I’m travelling alone and I just want at least one photo of me in the folder, you know?”
“I can relate,” he chuckles as he takes the camera from you. “How do you want to take it? Casually touristy, right in front of it or artsy, with you looking up at the sign in awe?”
“Artsy,” he laughs at your immediate response, to which you simply shrug. “When will I be artsy if not in Paris?”
“Touché,” he agrees, before directing you so that he can take a decent shot. “Turn a bit to the left.”
A few seconds later, it’s his turn. After settling your own camera around your neck, you take his and take a few photos of him as he stands in the same spot you did, looking up at the sign in fake awe. This gives you a chance to properly look at him for the first time. He is indeed handsome, insanely so. Dark brown hair swept away from his face, insanely clear skin and a jaw that could cut right through glass. Looking right at him is almost blinding and you rush to take the photos.
“All done,” you smile as you return the camera to him. “I think you have a few decent shots there.”
“Thanks,” he smiles as you adjust your backpack, ready to take your leave – Shakespeare will have to enjoy your company some other day. “Enjoy the rest of Paris.”
“Yeah, you too,” you smile back at the man, mumbling under your breath as you leave because it serves you right to meet the most handsome man ever half-way across the world.
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By the time you finally escape the Parisian metro, you are dead tired. Musée Rodin was just as beautiful as ‘Midnight in Paris’ made it seem to be. You’ve spent the good part of the morning roaming it’s gardens, before finally moving onto Les Invalides, which housed the tomb of the oh so great Napoleon Bonaparte. That was arguably less exciting than Musée Rodin, with you actually giving up on it completely as soon as you saw his tomb. The comments you thought of while admiring the size of the tomb and him obviously carrying his complexes into afterlife were left to you alone, making you chuckle at random times and earning a few curious looks from your fellow tourists.
Your tourist escapades ended at Champ de Mars, with an impromptu picnic which included sitting on your jacket and eating a marvelous French feast made up from pre-packaged Starbucks caramel macchiato and salt&vinegar chips – mmm, so French it hurts. Originally, you wanted to wait for the infamous light show to start but after just an hour, you have already given up and made your leave, hoping not to get lost in the metro yet again.
Luckily, you didn’t. You were so tired by the time you got to the place you rented in the outskirts of Paris that you barely had the energy to shower. And tomorrow, with Versailles being your top priority, your day was bound to be even more tiring.
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You are fuming, absolutely fuming, wanting nothing more than to curse out loud and stomp on the ground. You have been tricked and that was just the drop that made the glass overflow.
You woke up with a massive headache and after forcing yourself to eat a bit, you could finally drink medication. By the time you were ready to leave your rental apartment, the timetable you made for today was already long forgotten – you’re at least an hour late.
But that isn’t a problem. It’s not even the ever confusing metro, because somehow, with a lot of help from locals, you’ve managed to figure out where you should wait for the right ride to Versailles. All of it was a bit stress inducing but definitely not a problem. The real problem occurred when you were in front of the magnificent golden gates, which you couldn’t even see because of the massive line.
Clutching your fast pass ticket, you approach a smaller line leading to the entrance, hoping and praying that you weren’t wasting your time waiting there instead of in the massive crowd, hoping that your fast pass can actually let you pass, fast.
You were mistaken. Apparently, every single human being waiting in the long ass line also had the fast pass ticket. How long do people without a fast pass have to wait is a question you don’t even want to know the answer to. With a few huffs and puffs, you took your place in line, annoyed at anything and everything, starting from the stupid agency who sold you this worthless ticket, right down to your best friend who suggested taking this trip together, only to bail on you to let her boyfriend take her to Ibiza.
As if all of that was not enough to ruin your mood, rain had started to fall, damping your clothes enough so that they match your mood.  At least you were ready for it, having read up about the unpredictable early summer rains of Paris and making sure to never leave the apartment without your hideously yellow umbrella.
An hour and a half later, you finally put the damn fast pass into use and enter the extravagant home of some Louis – you’re not ashamed to admit to not know which one. After all, you were about to learn.
The inside of the magnificent palace left you with mixed emotions, in all honesty. On one hand, it truly is as grand and striking as you had always imagined it to be. On the other hand, the crowd was killing you. Teens running around and touching things they shouldn’t be touching, people looking at everything through the screen of their phones and cameras instead of actually looking… It all left you feeling a bit on edge and wishing you had a chance to attend a private tour or something. Knowing that you will probably experience the same thing later today in the Louvre wasn’t helping either.
Every time you would pass a window, you found yourself wanting to be outside and after an hour of torture and not being able to enjoy anything, you have finally given up – fuck the rain, fuck it all – most people are still inside to avoid the rain after all and you do have your trusted umbrella with you.
Stepping into the gardens of Versailles was the best decision you could have made and you regretted not making it sooner. There were very few people outside and even the light drizzle could not ruin the experience of such a beautiful place. It’s fascinating, really, to look from the balcony above and to not see the end to all the gardens, green labyrinths, with many fountains and statues placed at nearly every corner.
It was almost impossible for you to decide where to start, so you just decided to roam freely, with no end goal in mind. You don’t even bother with your camera much, once you reach the seemingly endless green maze. The view from higher ground is magnificent but as you walk around, all you see is green hedges, incredibly tall green hedges – a very literal maze of plants. The smell is comforting – a mixture of the familiar smell of rain and of plants – more specifically, grass.
You wander around, enjoying the peace and quiet. There are more people in the maze but they are far from you and compared to the crowd you were in just minutes ago, they are ignorable, unless they are heading directly in your direction.
You recognize him instantly – other than a few locals you’ve asked for directions, he is the only person you exchanged more than one sentence with – it’s the guy from ‘Shakespeare and Company’, walking towards you. Your fear of awkwardness makes you lower the umbrella so that you can pretend that you simply didn’t see him. You only lift the umbrella up when you see his feet walk by you.
It would be weird and awkward. What do you say to someone you recognize but don’t really know? Hey? What if he doesn’t remember you and you embarrass yourself for no good reason? No, this was completely ignorable, luckily for you.
You are not fast enough the second time. The next crossroad in the maze leaves you making eye contact with him, as he is standing parallel to you, with a solid distance in-between. Solid enough for you to still pretend you do not recognized him. The eye contact made you feel a bit uneasy because what if he remembers you too? The awkwardness you’ve wanted to avoid might have just doubled.
So you walk on, taking a left turn as soon as you find one, finding the first ‘hidden room’ of the maze and a breathtaking, extravagant fountain that all but begs for you to take photos of it. Consciously steering away from the direction he seemed to have been taking, you walk along.
Left, straight, left again, straight, a bit to the right – you even manage to lose track of your surroundings, hoping that you are heading towards the gigantic fountain you’ve seen from the upper balcony.
Yet somehow, you still manage to see him again and much to your dismay, make direct eye contact. He is standing parallel from you and before you turned around and started walking, you could see what looked like mild confusion on his face.
Crap. He must have recognized you to a certain extent and now you’re making it painfully obvious that you are running away from him. For no good reason, too. You could have simply said “Oh hey, I remember you from yesterday, enjoy Versailles” or something along that line and made your exit but no, god no, you just had to make a fool of yourself.
You’ve never taken pride in your title of awkward social potato and this little mishap has to rank pretty high on your list of embarrassing moments. Sure, weird eye contact isn’t that big of a deal but the fact that it could have been easily avoid it and wasn’t only makes it 10 times worse.
Surprisingly enough, as soon as you realize that you’re being ridiculous, you have a chance for a do-over.
By the time you’ve reached the grand fountain, with a very confusing yet majestic statue of horses in the middle of it, you see him again, standing right on the edge of it, luckily not looking your way. Once again you are reminded of just how good looking he is and it’s not helping you with what you are about to do, since insanely attractive men tend to make you nervous and tongue tied.
“Well, at least the Versailles was open,” you try to sound as casual as possible as you stand a few feet away from him, watching as confusion disappears from his face as he puts two and two together.
“I thought I recognized you,” he laughs and you realize that his laughter is as melodic as his voice. Damn him. “They opened yesterday minutes after you left,” he tells you and to that you shrug.
“Nine days in Paris aren’t enough – I had museums to see,” you tell him, watching as he nods in understanding, still smiling at you. “I hope you enjoyed it, though.”
“I did,” he tells you. “Since you’re here, would you mind taking a photo of me?” he sounds as sheepish as you did yesterday. “You’re the only stranger I’d trust with my camera,” he adds. He makes a simple sentence like that hit you like a full force flirt and by the time you actually take the camera from his hands, you are positive you are blushing.
You take a few photos of him, his insanely good profile in particular, hoping that you are not drooling all over yourself. “Return the favor?” you ask, lifting your own camera, to which he laughs and extends his hand to you.
Posing is always awkward, period. Posing to a hot stranger is borderline traumatic. You do it anyways, looking away from the camera because you’ve had enough “eye contact” with him to last you a lifetime. Awkwardly standing in front of him, you wait as he checks the photos before smiling up at you and offering the camera back to you. “Perfect.”
“Thanks. Enjoy the rest of Versailles,” you casually announce your departure, feeling relieved and regretful at the same time as you walk away from him, backwards. In all honesty, the kind smile on your face made you want to stick around for a while longer.
“Thanks, you too.”
You turn around and walk away, taking a deep breath to relax yourself. The Louvre awaits – hot strangers will have their turn some other time.  
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Four days in Paris were enough for you to start your own list of unpopular, maybe even popular, opinions about the city. You were always interested in the city but never obsessed with it, like many are, so you’d say that your opinions are unbiased, at least to a certain extent.
For example, Parisians are nice and they actually do make an effort to speak English if you ask them something. Of course, not everyone has the same experience but the urban myth of them being condescending, rude and downright ignoring people who speak English was proven to be false.
Yes, the city is gorgeous but it has so much to offer beside a fairly tall tower.
And last, but certainly not least – the Louvre is overrated.
After waiting in rain, again (not the museum’s fault, obviously), you finally got inside, only to proceed and get lost four times. Actual four times, you had no idea where you were and where you were supposed to go next. You were nearly trampled in front of the Mona Lisa, all while watching in shock as the people were pushing each other to try and take a selfie with the iconic painting behind them. That was the first instance when you thought how much you hate people. The next one was when you saw a grown adult, a man in his 30s, grabbing an antique Greek statue by the balls.
It was at that point that the museum walking became torture to you. Paired with its confusing layout and the employees who either truly had no idea how to help you or simply didn’t want to bother with helping a pesky tourist, you ended up wandering aimlessly, looking at everything and nothing at all, wondering how much it would cost to get an exclusive, chaperoned, after-hours tour of the Louvre. Probably too much for someone who’s keeping cheap ramen in their rented apartment.
Muse d’Orsay, your present location, is something else entirely. It is painfully obvious that at least a third of the yesterday’s crowd only went to the Luvre because someone told them they should, you overheard a few say as much, and compared to that, the visitors of Muse d’Orsay came here on their own accord. It is decently full, but not crowded. The only place where you actually had to wait in line was in front of Van Gogh’s artwork, which was to be expected.
The entire place is casual, yet sophisticated, far less confusing compared to the gigantic mess that is The Louvre. You can take your time and go wherever, without having to consult a map and pray that you’re not confusing yourself even further. You can also sit and relax for a little while, which is something your tired feet are extremely grateful for but in a very unusual way, the people around you are making you feel uncomfortable. Most of them are casually sitting and sketching the gigantic clock, the centerpiece of Muse d’Orsay and while observing that is beautiful, it also remindes you that you are, to put it nicely, talentless in the same field.
So you keep on roaming, until you find your place on a bench set before an enormous painting. Definitely three times, if not four, your height, The Women of Gaul has your full attention. The piece is as eerie and hauntingly beautiful as it is confusing – like many times over the last couple of days, you’re not sure where to look first. What catches your attention, bizarrely, is the center character – a woman, standing tall and proud with an angry look on her face and holding a dead baby by the arm.
It appears as if she has killed the baby on her own accord – she’d rather lose everything she has than surrender. Admirable and scary at the same time. With all due respect to the masterpiece, she looks ready to bitchslap some soldiers.
“We meet again, stranger,” you only realize someone is talking to you when they sit a few feet away from you and you nearly choke on dry air when you realize it’s him – the Shakespeare guy, the Versailles guy, your unofficial photographer, in all of his ripped jeans glory.
“Wow,” you laugh. How big is Paris? How many people live here, how many tourists roam the streets every day? And yet three days in a row, you see him. “We keep bumping into each other.”
“Looks like our travel itineraries keep overlapping,” he chuckles. “I’m Jimin, by the way,” he adds, before the silence turns awkward. “It’s nice to officially meet you,” he offers you his hand, which you accept instantly.
“Y/N,” you shake his hand. “So, how’s Paris working out for you?”
“I love it,” he admits, looking away from you to focus on the much less friendlier woman in the painting in front of you. “I like it more than I thought I would, in all honesty.”
“Same here,” you admit, finding it quite easy to talk to him, given that you are usually definitely more apprehensive when it comes to people you don’t know. But hey, you know his name now – that counts, right? “From word of mouth alone, I thought it was a bit overrated but it has its charms. Plenty of them, actually.”
“Museums or city streets?” he asks, turning to look at you again. He has striking, dark eyes that have no trouble looking directly at yours – you, on the other hand, swallow a lump. “Which do you enjoy more?”
“A bit of both, depends on the day,” you sound way more casual than you feel. “You?”
“City streets,” he answers, focusing on the painting again. “Art is amazing but art is art, wherever you are. While cities… they’re all different. Each city has its own thing and as much as I enjoy looking at artwork, I’d rather pick… exploring the city, breathing it in. Polluted air and all.”
“Makes sense,” you agree, knowing just how right he is. A museum is a museum, whether it’s in Paris or the tiniest of towns. It’s fascinating but it’s still a building with four walls and a roof – outside, the streets, the people, the charm distinct to each city – that’s where all the fun is at.
“Have you seen the impressionism area?” he asks.
“Not yet, why?”
“Me neither,” he laughs, confusing you a bit. “Travelling alone is fun but at times it can get painfully dull. I thought maybe you’d want to look around the museum a bit more and then we can go somewhere?”
Oh. Okay. He wants your company. Surprising, yet flattering.
“I’d love to,” you find yourself answering, ignoring all the possible red flags you probably should have not ignored – after all, this is fairly similar to the plot of Taken, and you don’t have a Liam Neeson waiting to rescue you. Mr. Ripped Jeans Jimin has a point – travelling alone can be very dull. With how the two of you have been running into each other for days now, it seems like the universe wants you to have someone to talk to for a while. “Anywhere you’d like to go in particular?”
“Montmartre?” he suggests after considering your question for a few seconds. “The stairs in front of Sacré-Cœur are always a good idea?”
He isn’t wrong - Sacré-Cœur is very much on your bucket list – scheduled for tomorrow, right on time to see the sunset. But at the same time, you have no specific plans for this afternoon and Jimin does seem like he could be good company.
Why not?
“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, feeling a metaphorical punch to your gut when his face lights up once you agree with his idea. “Let’s see those impressionists first, shall we?”
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The language barrier is quite something. Despite knowing a few basic French words and phrases, your pronunciation is so damn tragic, no transaction was possible without the use of English and sometimes, like right now, lots of waving and pointing.
Jimin was looking at you in amusement while you desperately tried to explain that you need one chocolate croissant. By the point the lady behind the counter understood what you wanted, you were more than happy to leave with whatever the hell she’d give you, even if it’s not your precious croissant.
“Do you want something? Are you hungry?” you ask, wanting to treat him to some food since he insisted on paying for the bottle of wine that is currently in his backpack.
He nods, proceeding to speak to state his order in what sounds like fluent French. “I got some for you too,” he tells you as he elegantly stands in front of you, taking out his wallet and smiling as he sees that you are about to protest. “No way,” he shakes his head. “I’m paying – I ordered more. Besides, if you are buying the chocolate croissant, you obviously have no idea what you’re doing.”
A comment like that could have sounded extremely condescending coming from anyone else, but from Jimin, with his kind smile? No way. “You did not just diss a chocolate croissant!”
“Oh, yes I did,” he chuckles as he rushes to offer money before you can – defeated, but a little glad, you return your wallet into the bag, thinking how maybe you will treat yourself to more than instant ramen for your lunch tomorrow. “I love chocolate as much as the next guy but the raisin one? Hell, even the plain one – much better,” he tells as he takes the bag and exits the bakery, leaving you to follow him.
“I’m all for experimenting but come on – it’s a chocolate croissant. It can’t be bad.”
“I’ve never said it was bad,” he laughs at you as you finally catch up with him and the two of you walk side by side. “I’ve just said others were better, which you will confirm once you try them. Now – do we walk or do we waste money on the lift?”
How can a question so simple be so complicated? Your feet hurt, you’ve walked more since you landed in Paris than you have the whole last month – of course you want to take the lift and avoid unnecessary stairs. On the other hand, stairs pretty much guarantee that you will have more time to spend with Jimin and so far, he’s been a decent companion.
“How about… we take the lift to go up and we walk on our way down?” you suggest.
“Deal.”
He didn’t have a chance to see Montmarte either, he tells you on your way up. Much like you, he had a schedule and he kept to it. Until today, when he spontaneously dropped his plans and invited you to spend the rest of the day with him. You did not have solid plans to begin with, so it wasn’t much of a change, save from the fact that you were in good company.
And good company he was – surprisingly, there weren’t many moments of awkward silence as the two of you tried to find a place that fits you both – that was a challenge, seeing as many people have gathered to enjoy the view, a nice drink and an impromptu performance by buskers. In the corner of the stairs, a little bit away from the crowd, the two of you sit and it’s a matter of seconds before Jimin is opening the bottle of wine with a swiss knife he pulled out of his bag – a bag that looks like it costs more than your monthly rent – not that you were paying any attention to it.
“So…” he starts, pausing to smile at you as he gives you your cup, before moving on to fill his own. “Tell me something about yourself. I only know your name and that we live in the same city.”
“And yet somehow we’ve met on a different continent,” you add, smiling when he ‘clinks’ his plastic cup against yours. “What would you like to know?”
“Anything,” he shrugs, nodding in approval at the taste of the wine. “Why Paris? Why alone? What’s your favorite color? An actor you hate but can’t explain why? Tell me anything.”
“Why Paris? Why not Paris? There are so many places I want to see, cities I want to explore and it all had to start somewhere. My friend had wanted to see Paris while I was pretty much up for anything. Of course, she then decided that Ibiza with her boytoy sounds like a better idea than Paris with her friend,” you add, sounding just a little bitter. It’s not the nicest thing she has done but you’ll get over it.
“And your boyfriend was not interested in the beauty of France?”
Now you are confused. His raised eyebrow and tiny, barely there smile, tell you that he is absolutely asking about your boyfriend for no other reason but to confirm whether or not you have one. However, this wouldn’t be the first time for you to completely misread signs and confuse flirting with casual conversation. You decide to play it safe and not waste time on reading between the lines.
“Don’t have one,” you shrug, looking away from him and focusing on the buskers. “It does get quite boring after a while. It would be nice to have a travel partner.”
“And if you don’t, you can always ask a random, kind stranger to take your photos for you?” you join in on his laugh, glad that you spoke up that day in front of ‘Shakespeare and Company’. If you hadn’t, chances are you wouldn’t have a conversation in Versailles, which then would not continue today.
If he can do it, so can you – the can of worms is wide open. “And what does your girlfriend say about you traveling without her?” you asks, before backtracking quickly. “Or boyfriend. Or one of each, really,” you add, making him laugh.
God, there really is no smooth way to ask about the relationship status of someone you barely know, someone you’re not even completely sure you like. If two are at a club, where the music is loud and they can’t even keep a conversation, ‘are you single’ is completely acceptable. And that setting is perfect for a rejection – if they say no, you just dance away to your drink or to the next person.
This? It’s a warm day in Paris and you are surrounded by people of all ages, families even. You have been talking about the city, travelling, art and now what, ‘are you single’ or ‘would you be interested in sleeping with me’ is the next topic of conversation? No, it doesn’t work that way. Especially when you’re not even sure what you want, much less what he wants.
“Well, I don’t have either of the two so I can’t really answer that,” is that a hint of a smirk you see on his face? Okay, you may not be a champion at flirting but it looks like things are heading that way.
“Interesting,” you mumble, earning an eyebrow raise from him. Shit. You panic and focus on the plastic cup full of wine, hoping that if you drink enough of it fast, the blush that is taking over your face can be attributed to the alcohol. It doesn’t help – you move the cup away and meet his eyes, only to find him obviously waiting for you to explain your comment.
“Are you going to explain why that’s interesting on your own or should I ask about it and force you to elaborate?” he asks and you immediately turn to your cup, making him laugh, loudly, in a way that makes his eyes crinkle and his whole body move.
“I’m awkward, please don’t make it any worse,” you tell him, a part of you hoping he won’t hear you.
“As you wish,” he is still laughing and you still want to die of embarrassment. That being said, him teasing you is a good sign, you think. Now, you’re fairly certain that you absolutely are in the flirting territory and while that doesn’t make things easier for you one bit, at least now you know you perhaps won’t make a fool of yourself if you are more straightforward. Or maybe you will. Who knows?! “Y/N, do you believe in destiny?” he asks and while you’re glad the topic is changed… really?
“That’s such a broad question,” you chuckle, pausing to think about it for a second. “I suppose I do, but you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that. What kind of destiny?”
“Okay… first, do you believe that it’s all planned out? Like, your entire life?” he asks.
“Hardly,” you answer immediately, having thought about that already, many times in your life. “I suppose that to a certain extent, it is destiny. Like… the situations that you will be put in. But your reactions to said situations are your own. Destiny can’t control how you, or the people in your life, react to something. So I guess… no?” you try to sum it up, laughing at your own rant.
“Makes sense,” he agrees as he leans back, now almost lying down on the staircase, propped on his elbow as he looks away from you and towards the magnificent view of Paris. You realize once again that he looks like a full course meal, skinny jeans and all, and you reach for your plastic cup for solace, again. “Some things are set in stone… like where you’re born, who your parents are, maybe even who you’re going to be in life. But not the tiny details… like what kind of friend you are, if you can cook or not, who will be your first kiss and so on… Is that what you meant?” he asks, suddenly turning his eyes on you and faced with them, you nearly choke on the drink you’ve been hiding behind.
Damn him and his eyes. And his smirk. And yes, his ripped skinny jeans too.
“Yeah, something like that.”
“And what about us?” he asks, smirking your way again. “We’ve been running into each other all over Paris… that’s why I thought that there has to be a reason behind it… don’t you agree?”
“Could be,” you agree, knowing that no matter how skeptical you might be about the concept of destiny, even you have to admit that the amount of times the two of you have crossed paths this week is something unusual. “You think it was destined for two of us to meet and hang out on these stairs?”
“Why not?” he laughs, sensing the trace of skepticism behind your words, even though you mostly agreed with him. “I can accept that not every cute girl I meet is destiny playing its tune but we couldn’t have avoided each other even if we tried, could we?”
You’re cute. Okay. You can live with that. You can definitely live with that.
“What else does destiny want us to do?”
You’ll admit it, you feel bolder now, knowing how shamelessly he had admitted that he obviously thinks you’re cute. Sure, you’re not nearly as bold as you wish you were but… step by step?
“Well, there’s this party down at the 8th Arrondissement that I thought of going to. Nothing huge, just a regular club. We don’t have to, if you don’t feel like partying. If you do, we can sit here for a while longer and then take a cab down there or something?” he suggests.
First he thinks you’re cute. Then he wants you to go clubbing. Sure, he isn’t hitting on you per se, but he obviously wants to spend more time with you and knowing that makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery. Maybe it’s the butterflies that you’re feeling now, after ages of them being MIA, maybe it’s the way Jimin looks at you, with the tiniest of smirks gracing his face, or maybe it’s just Jimin himself – you’re not sure and frankly, it doesn’t matter. Bottom line is, he wants to spend more time with you and despite you not really giving a shit about destiny, you do want to spend more time with him too.
“Sounds like a good idea.”
And then he goes and bites his lip, mid-smile.
Yeah, there’s no way in hell you’ll survive clubbing with him. But you’ll be damned if you don’t try.
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It didn’t take you long to realize that Jimin is a piece of work, in the best ways.
He is confident when approaching strangers, whether it was you, earlier today, or a random person to ask if the two of you could join their table. He can handle his drink and he does, in fact, drink quite a bit. His behavior doesn’t change – he’s still smiley, friendly, his words never slurring, his walk as perfect and sexy as it was when he was 100% sober – the only real change in his appearance is that three tequila shots in, he’s red in the face.
You? You’ve stopped drinking one shot ago, not wanting to push yourself into the state of ‘please fuck me in the alley behind this park, Mr. Stranger’ because you do tend to turn clingy after drinking a bit too much. No, this time around, you’ve kept yourself tipsy enough to throw away some inhibitions but sober enough to not jump on the guy in the middle of a crowded club.
And lord almighty, it is crowded.
You would have never thought that Parisians and a couple of tourists would be this into 90s trash music but here you are, dancing the night away with a hot as hell stranger to the tune of ‘Be My Lover’. You’ve been dancing nonstop for what feels like hours, the only break happening when he goes to the bar to get the two of you drinks and you take that chance to lean against the wall to catch your breath.
You want to chastise yourself for trusting a stranger with your drink but after debating it while you were still sober, you’ve come to the conclusion that you’re going to trust said stranger. 
Taking a deep breath, you rummage through your bag, trying to find something to cool yourself down with, settling for a brochure you had picked up in Musée d'Orsay earlier today. You fan yourself, staying comfortably away from the crowd that’s dancing like their life depends on it.
It’s hot, it’s crowded, you’re tipsy and if you’re being completely honest, you’re turned on. Yes, in a tiny, dark, hole of a club, with a 90s eurodance song in Spanish blasting through the speakers, you can still manage to feel that way and it’s solely because of him.
For the past two hours, he has been flirting with you in ways that make you wonder if he’s actually flirting of he’s a hallucination of your deranged mind.
He hasn’t stopped touching you all night, but he does so in ways that are not… obvious. He holds your hand while you are walking through the crowd. He puts his hands on your waist while you’re dancing, but they’re positioned in a way that makes you think he just enjoys having a dance partner, not that he wants to fuck your brains out. He is close, but not close enough to make you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wants to kiss you. It’s driving you insane and you’re feeling hot – literally and metaphorically.
The song changed to something a bit more bearable for listening, but still trashy enough, when you finally felt your body relaxing and calming down after the onslaught of senses it has been through in the last two hours. However, the moment you think you’ll manage to cool your head, you see him.
It’s not that he is hot. Sure, he is hot as hell and nice on the eyes, which is something you see others noticing, as they turn their heads while he walks past them, drinks in hand. It’s not that he is so damn charming, although that plays a part too. What’s really getting to you is simply the way he looks at you.
Even now, in the crowd, as he makes his way to your little makeshift hideaway, his eyes are directly on you. He’s not even paying attention on if he’s spilling your drinks or not – nope, he is looking right at you. And despite the feeling of panic that causes, you can’t look away. You can’t hide from it, you can’t fight it – you just have to keep eye contact with him, even though you feel like weak prey.
You’d lie if you say that there weren’t moments when his eyes would look… elsewhere. Your lips, your neck or at the tiny trace of cleavage your shirt lets him see (is that one a blessing or a curse?)…  That you could deal with, as much as you were figuratively on fire. But a man with confidence to look you directly in the eyes, all the time? Yeah, you’ve kind of wanted die.
Especially now, with him sliding through the cracks between people, smiling your way, eyes burning into yours. With mere seconds to get yourself ready for him, you take a deep breath, thanking your lucky stars that he looked away, enough to put your drinks on the table next to you.
“I know you didn’t want anything, but I got you a cocktail in case you change your mind later,” he tells you and the only reason you actually understand every word he is saying is because you are staring at his lips. The music is loud, loud enough to make you want to come closer to him and ask him to repeat his words but at this point, you are a certified lip reader because good god, his lips.
“That’s okay.”
You wanted to say more, you really did, but the moment he put those drinks down, his hands were on your waist and he was close now, closer than he was before, with just an inch of space between your face and his. And even this close, even with a damn inch between the two of you, he stares into your eyes, directly into your eyes, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. And frankly, he most likely does.
“Let’s dance, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You let him take you down into the crowd again, not even noticing the loss of your precious brochure you’ve used as a makeshift fan. You let him stay close to you and you let him keep his hands on you at all times. You let him take over your entire mind, knowing that at this point, you can’t think of anything that isn’t him.
Where? Where are guys like these? Where are guys who are confident, funny, charming and sexy, without trying to get into your pants like desperate teenagers? He has the right amount of everything and a part of you wonders where are others like him? But with him in front of you, directly in front of you, with barely an inch of thin air between you, does it really matter?
You’ve given up, totally and completely. You let him eat you up with his eyes, sway your hips to the beats of bad music in any direction he wants, smiling back at him when he smiles at you.
He is closer now, even closer than before, your noses brushing against each other every other moment. He is closer and you feel like you’re going to faint if he doesn’t do something, anything really.
It’s a weird feeling to describe. You don’t know what you want but you want it, bad. And while in theory, it would be easy to take the last step and just kiss him, you can’t do it. What’s stopping you – you don’t know, you really don’t. Yes, he hasn’t explicitly said that he wants you to do anything but his actions speak enough on their own. You could close the space between the two of you and end the misery but you can’t. Something is stopping you and at this point, it feels suffocating.
All of it. Him, the crowd, the sweaty bodies all around you – it’s too much. You need fresh air. Right now.
“What time is it?” you yell at him and you can see he’s surprised – you’ve mostly been quiet, overcome with everything else to form rational thoughts. Not only that, but you’re asking about time, of all things.
“Almost 1:30AM,” he tells you, after glancing on his wristwatch, before returning the hand back on your waist. “Why? Do you want to leave?” he asks and for one second, one damn second, you see a trace of something other than pure confidence on his face. It’s not insecurity or worry, not even disappointment. It looks like a mix of all three and something else, but it’s all very faint and lasts for barely a second before he smiles at you. “It’s okay if you do. Truly.”
“It’s not that I want to leave,” you mumble, before remembering you’re in a damn club. So, you close the space between the two of you and put your lips to his ear, brushing his skin as you speak. “It’s not that I want to leave. But I need some fresh air. We can come back if you want to.”
“You want me to go with you?” he asks as you pull away and you nod. “You sure?” he asks, looking at you with worry in his eyes. He’s questioning it, if only a little bit, probably worried that you’re running away and he’s being pushy. Which isn’t the truth. You are running away, but not from him, not exactly.
“Yes,” you laugh, taking his hand, as if to show that you mean it. He smiles back at you and leads the way. You think he’d go back to your borrowed table, so that he can finish his drink but he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he leads the way to the area where you left your bags in exchange for 5 euros.
Seeing as you are the only ones leaving this early, the exchange for your stuff is quick and by the time you are breathing in the cool Paris air, it hasn’t been more than a few minutes since you’ve expressed your desire to leave. And the cool air helps. Well, it’s either the cool air or the fact that Jimin isn’t attached to you at this moment. With a bit of distance between you, you can actually use your brain.
“Are you okay?” he asks as he watches you take deep breaths. “We can walk it off if you’ve had too much to drink? I can walk you back to your place if you want to leave?” he suggests.
“No,” you smile at him, feeling a little bit overwhelmed by how helpful he is, as well as worried. “I’m not wasted. I don’t even know if I’m tipsy anymore,” you tell him. Sure, you might not be tipsy from the alcohol but he is a different story – you are very much drunk on him. But you won’t tell him that. “I just needed a bit of air. Maybe we can walk? Then come back or something?”
“Sure, yeah,” he nods and you lead the way. “You know, we don’t have to come back here because of me. I’m perfectly fine with just walking around. We can go somewhere else or find a bench to sit on. I can call a cab for you if you want to go back to your place.”
“I’m enjoying tonight very much,” you reassure him. There are… so many other things that you’d like to say, about him and the way he makes you feel, but you just… don’t have the balls to do so. So you simply settle with reassuring him that you’re enjoying the night. “Let’s just walk around and then figure out what we want to do next. The same goes for you – I’m fine with doing whatever you want to do.”
“You know, the last light show of the night is at 2AM,” he tells you, glancing at his watch quickly. “We can still catch it, if you’d like to. Maybe we even have time to go to the tower itself but we can definitely make it to Trocadéro on time?” he suggests and even though you normally refuse to be such a basic tourist, a huge part of you is excited at the thought of seeing the tower light up.
“I haven’t seen it yet. You want to go?” you ask, continuing with the tradition he had started of questioning everything for whatever reason.
“Sure, let’s go.”
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There are people roaming around the area – of course there are, it’s Paris, there are tourists in every nook and cranny of the damn city. However, the numbers are smaller than they were when you went here the other day. You were definitely not alone but you did manage to find a section of the fence where no one was waiting with their cameras ready. Which is exactly what the two of you are doing now, waiting to capture the perfect moment of the tower lighting up.
You’ve been fairly quiet since you’ve left the club but it wasn’t the negative kind of silence, not at all. It was the silence that comes after a slightly overwhelming moment. You’re not sure if Jimin feels the same and if he does, he sure didn’t show it, but he was quiet along with you, speaking up only when you do, smiling your way whenever you’ve felt brave enough to make direct eye contact. It was comfortable and it made you realize just how much you have let this total stranger get under your skin.
“Doesn’t this feel a bit like the New Year’s countdown?” you ask, adjusting your camera so that the tower is right in the center of it – as much as Jimin is overwhelming, you still want to capture a decent photograph. It’s a once in a lifetime event. At least for us, non-Parisian commoners.
“It does,” he chuckles. “Ah, here we go!”
It’s impossible not to laugh at all the sighs of wonder you hear coming from around you. Yes, it’s a beautiful sight but… come on! It’s not a natural phenomenon; it’s a tower with lights on it! You sense Jimin reacting to it the same way you do, laughing a bit at the amazement of everyone around you but still taking a photo and enjoying the moment.
“Wait, let me take a photo of you,” he tells you and to your surprise, he doesn’t ask for your camera – he simply steps back with his. You don’t say anything and you try not to think too much of it but at the very least you are now expecting an exchange of social media or emails, knowing that you now have a perfect excuse of contacting him. Unable to hide a smile at the realization, you try to strike a casual pose, all while feeling like a complete idiot because he is looking at you again. “Wait,” he suddenly says and walks back up to you, reaching his hand closer to your face. “May I?”
You nod, not even sure what exactly you’re agreeing to here. Gently, he runs his hand through your hair, similar to the way he runs it through his own hair a few times a minute, messing it up a little bit. You don’t exactly have a mirror on you right now, but you imagine it’s the cute kind of messy, not the messy kind of messy. Why would he want you to look like shit for the photo? So, you let him, trying to ignore the way your pulse races because of him being so close. “There,” he steps away from you, smiling.
“Messy enough?” you joke, laughing when he does.
“It’s not messy, it’s sexy,” he tells you and yeah, your stupid heart is in overdrive, the butterflies in your stomach wilding and your face absolutely blushing. “It’s cute, natural. It’s more you than the preppy pose you’ve just tried to pull off,” and now he kind of insulted you.
“Hey!” you snap back, unable to keep a straight face when he starts laughing again. “You’ve known me for a few hours, how do you know preppy poses aren’t my thing?”
“I just know,” he shrugs. “Now act natural. Smile.”
You wanted to fight him back in a passive aggressive way and remain preppy but you just can’t – not with him making you smile. So you smile and giggle, pretending like he doesn’t have a camera in front of his face. If he wants you to be natural, you’re going to be natural.
After a few shots, he moves the camera away from his face and gives you the most blinding smile he had given you so far.
“Your turn,” you order him, unsure how you can even talk anymore. You feel like jelly on the inside and it’s actually quite worrying, seeing as you haven’t felt like this many times in your life. Of course, you liked people, you dated people, hell you’ve even loved a guy or two! But god good, they’re not Jimin. The guy has it all and all of it is affecting you in ways you didn’t know you could be affected.
You swallow a few lumps as you try to focus on the tower too, and not just him, because yes, it kind of needs to be in the picture too and that is the whole point of this, isn’t it? It takes you a few tries but you end up with a good shot. No matter how tonight ends, you’ll have a palpable memory of Jimin saved in your camera and you’d be lying to yourself if you say that doesn’t make you feel a bit more at ease.
“How can something be so tacky and so breathtakingly beautiful at the same time?” you ask while walking back towards the fence, letting the camera dangle around your neck as you stand next to Jimin.
“It really is amazing, isn’t it?” he chuckles. This time around, you are the one shamelessly staring – he is too preoccupied with looking at the tower. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t know if it’s Paris, or just tonight or maybe even you, but everything feels so… I don’t know, honestly,” he laughs, shaking his head as if he’s in disbelief. “I guess I’m just… really enjoying tonight.”
Here he is, this… beautiful, hot, kind, charming stranger, right next to you. Just a few days ago, he was no more than a fellow tourist. Just a few days ago, you didn’t think much of him. Today was a different story. Today, he didn’t let you push him into the back of your mind. Today he had made himself the focus of your day, night and quite frankly, this whole damn trip.
You don’t have to see him ever again if you don’t want to. If destiny keeps messing with you, you might run into him back home but by then, enough time would have passed for you to be able to keep your cool. If it goes good… it’ll go good. And if it goes bad, you can go back to pretending like none of this ever happened, and that your whole Parisian escapade was not Jimin centric. It might be easier said than done but you’re a tough cookie. You can do it.
Why not go for it? Seriously Y/N, why not go for it?
So you do.
You step closer to him and reach your hand out, putting it on his cheek and turning him to face you – he doesn’t have enough time to react properly but you can see the flash of surprise on his face. There is no time for him to say or do anything, because you lean in and press your lips to his.
Fuck it. Seriously, just fuck it. You’re here, he’s here and with doing practically nothing, he’d made you feel more than you’ve felt in months. As tacky as it is, you truly do only live once and you know yourself well enough to know you’d end up regretting not doing this.
You might regret it anyways, who knows. But you’d eat yourself away if you hadn’t gone for it.
You’d be lying if you said that the kiss is magical. Really, it’s awkward. Your lips are not much in comparison to his beautifully plump ones and while that could be overpowering, he technically isn’t moving. What you thought would be a kiss that would rock your world, ends up being nothing more than one slightly longer peck because he isn’t moving.
You can feel it – you’ve fucked up. You went for it and in hindsight, you shouldn’t have. Feeling absolutely mortified by his lack of response, you pull away, feeling even worse when you see the way he’s looking at you – no awe, no surprise, no excitement. He doesn’t look pissed either, or confused. It’s difficult to describe it but he’s almost… scowling at you.
You’ve fucked it up. But that’s okay. At least you won’t wonder about the ‘what ifs’.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away from him quickly. As much as you’re trying to reassure yourself that it’s better to know than to wonder, you’re absolutely dying on the inside. If there’s a hole near here in which you could hide, right this second, you’d go there. Alas, you’re out in the open and have to deal with the mess you’ve made. “I guess I’ve misread the signals. I-“
With his hand on your back, he pulls you smack into his chest, not leaving any room between the two of you whatsoever. All that you see is him leaning into you with his eyes closed.
It’s not a peck – it’s anything but a peck. His lips guide yours to open and not even a second later, you feel his tongue moving against yours. He pulls you even closer to him, your bodies practically stuck together, with your hands squished between you. You feel him run his other hand through your hair, turning your head a bit towards the side so that he can have more access to you, as if he hadn’t had enough to begin with. His tongue is relentless and you’re absolutely sure that you’re about to faint, knees barely managing to keep your body standing.
You have never been kissed like this. Definitely not in public.
He pulls away slowly, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he goes. He’s not scowling like he was moments ago, but he’s also not the cute, smiley Jimin he was for the better part of the day.
And you? You’re honestly struggling to breathe. A kiss is a surprise itself but a kiss like that is not something that’s easy to survive. You’re well aware that you’re practically panting because of him but it’s hardly something you can hide. You’re affected and you’re going to be affected, no matter how embarrassed you are about it.
“If you’re going to kiss me,” his voice is low, much lower than before and it’s not helping your situation at all. “You should kiss me like you mean it.”
Fuck everything.
You grab his shirt and pull him towards you once again.
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Life works in mysterious ways. Just this morning, you were a regular tourist, doing regular tourist things, sticking to your itinerary as you try to cram all of Paris into one week. And now? Now you’re pressed up against a wall of a random building in a part of town you haven’t ventured into before, making out with the hottest guy you have ever met, who is also pretty much still a stranger.
You don’t even care about how uncomfortable you are in this position – him kissing you makes it all better, very literally. He is a marvelous kisser – hungry, but not overpowering, with lips for days. He smells of cologne you have never smelt before but somehow know you won’t be able to forget anytime soon. Even the soft cotton of his white shirt that your hand is digging into feels heavenly.
Jimin, Jimin, Jimin. All you can focus on is Jimin, to the point of even almost managing to ignore a whistle directed towards the two of you.
You’ve had it coming, really – almost dry humping in the middle of the street. When Jimin starts to pull away, probably because of the wolf whistle, you still chase after him, desperately trying to keep your lips stuck together. He still moves away but not too far – he nuzzles into your neck, leaving you gasping for air at the feel of his lips attacking your neck.
Is it too far? Maybe. But too far is the exact direction in which you want to go.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” you suggest. You’ve never directly propositioned sex to someone you weren’t in a relationship with and while you were internally panicking, you also know he probably won’t refuse you. Unless the thing you’re feeling against your thigh is his phone and not him being happy to see you. “My airnbn is a bit far but we can go there?” you suggest, not wanting to be too direct and invite yourself to his place. Honestly, you’d even go into a public toilet at this point, but you’ll keep that bit of information to yourself.
He doesn’t respond immediately and you would have worried about it, if he wasn’t preoccupied with biting your neck, with enough force to leave marks and make you want to crumble. You shudder, actually shudder with pleasure as you feel his tongue run over your skin. “The place I’m staying at is just a few minutes away,” he finally speaks up, stepping away from you for the first time in what feels like forever. “Do you want to go there?” he asks.
The way he looks at you tells you he’s asking you more than to just go over to the place he’s staying at. You know it, he knows it. Even though it was your suggestion, he is still checking in with you, despite probably already knowing that you’d agree to pretty much anything. You laugh at his question.
“Jimin… I’m… I’m more than fine with going to your place, yeah,” you settled for that. Letting him know that you’d let him fuck you in the middle of the street, right here, right now, might be a bit too forward of you. Incredibly accurate but perhaps too forward.
The beaming smile you get from him when you agree serves like a confirmation to yourself that no, this is absolutely not a bad idea. This is everything you’ve hoped for but didn’t think would happen. This is the brief romance that novels are written about, a story you might remember when 30 years from now, your 20something-year-old daughter goes on her first trip to Paris and you remember him. Jimin will be your story, one that you might revisit often, depending on how the night ends.
Taking your hand in his, he leads the way and you follow blindly, enjoying his touch even during simple handholding. You want to do more, so much more, but if you do, you’ll never get to your end destination. Jimin must have sensed that, because the two of you are walking faster than you did this whole day – now you actually have a goal in mind. And what a goal that will be.
“Not to bring the mood down but we could have been going to your place a lot sooner if you’d kissed me back in the club,” you admit. Maybe that was a little bit unnecessary but you want to break the silence between you – and if you can compliment him in the process, why not?
“Hmm, maybe,” he sighs, suddenly letting go of your hand, only to hug you around the waist and pull you into his side, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re not the only one that was worried about misreading some signals. I wanted to be sure, so I consciously waited for you to do something.”
“Thank fuck I did because that was a close one,” you laugh in disbelief, amazed to know how close you were to this simply never happening.
“Not gonna lie, I was worried,” he laughs too, giving you another quick peck. You’re positive that you’re blushing again. Every time he kisses you, your stomach does somersaults, excited at the thought of him wanting to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him. Which is a lot. More than a lot. “I’m glad you mustered the courage to kiss a guy that’s quite obviously wanted to kiss you all afternoon.”
“For future notice – be more direct,” you warn him through laughter. The lucky girl who gets to experience him next deserves to be spared the inner turmoil you’ve went through. He spent the entire night dancing on the line between being very direct and not direct enough. One step in either direction would have settled your dilemma, so hopefully the next person will have more luck.
“I’m a bit preoccupied with you right now, thanks,” he chuckles as he sneaks his hand down to your ass and squeezes it shamelessly. You jump up in surprise but don’t feel particularly troubled about being in public, seeing as there is no public around you, at all. It’s just the two of you, walking along the river, the boats moored along the way seemingly empty. Feeling brave, braver than you ever remember feeling, you’re the one who initiates the kiss this time, making sure to show him how much you want this. You move slowly, enjoy the feeling of taking the lead and the lazy movements of your tongues, interrupted only when you feel the need to bite his bottom lip, which is way more often than you’d be willing to admit. Somehow, you once again end up being sandwiched between him and the half wall behind you. Seizing the opportunity, you sit on the half wall, pulling Jimin towards you by the belt – his hands find their way to your waist as he situates himself between your legs. This time around you’re sure it’s not his phone you’re feeling. It’s a very prominent bulge, noticeable enough to make you salivate at the very thought of what’s hidden. You’re not the only one acting braver – for the first time tonight, Jimin’s hands find their way under your shirt, eliciting goosebumps on your back almost immediately.
It’s when his fingers move to the front and graze your bra that you remember the two of you are still very much out in the open. And while at this point you wouldn’t particularly mind letting him have you here and now, the last thing you want to add to your Paris story is being arrested for indecent exposure.
“If you keep kissing me like this, we’ll never get to your place,” you warn him and contradict yourself immediately, attacking his neck with bites that make him sigh and shudder.
“Thank fuck we’re already here.”
You reluctantly detach yourself from his neck, looking around in confusion – you don’t see a house around you, at all. There’s nothing but the walkway and the park across the street. And as much as you like Jimin, you’re not going to fuck him on a bench which he sleeps on. He sees your confusion and nods towards the river. It takes you a bit too long to connect the dots.
“You’ve rented a houseboat?!” you ask in surprise and he gives you a quick kiss, pulling away with a smile.
“Of course,” he chuckles. “Hotels are boring. Boats are awesome.”
“Who even rents a boathouse?” you ask in wonder, all the while feeling slightly pissed at yourself because why the hell didn’t you think of that? It sure would beat your tiny airbnb, with a building that has no damn stairs – nothing but an elevator. Why would you be locked in such a claustrophobic space when you can have a damn boat? Lesson learned.
“I do,” he smirks at you. “And tonight, I’m going to fuck a very beautiful girl on that boat. So I guess it was a good call. Don’t you agree?”
“Yep. Wholeheartedly. You win.”
You know you’re going to die of embarrassment when he realizes just how wet he’s made you but you’re past the point of caring. With the words he says and the way he kisses you, you and your pussy never stood a chance.
Before you can kiss him again and prolong the wait, he takes your hand and leads the way, first down a set of concrete stairs and then towards the second houseboat in a row; it’s close to the ones on its side, but not too close for comfort. Climbing up the stairs that lead to the impromptu balcony on the boat, you immediately realize the appeal of choosing housing like this – once you can take your eyes away from Jimin’s ass, that is. No, once you are not looking at it, you can appreciate the view the boat has – you can even see the Eiffel tower, a bit down the river. The deck has a huge table, a few chairs and way more plants that a boat deck needs. It looks comfortable, beautiful and with how easily accessible it is, just a bit dangerous. All the words you can use to describe the man who is now kissing your neck, standing behind you as you reach and lean yourself on the boat rail, hoping it is safe.
“I see you’re an exhibitionist,” you laugh when he pulls you back so that your ass is right against his crotch and good god, you can feel how hard he is as he rolls his hips against you.
“No. Maybe just a little,” he chuckles. You laugh too, until you feel one of his hands leave your hips and reach for the button on your jeans. You gulp, eyes widening and as if he can sense your alert, he doesn’t unbutton them immediately. “You?” he asks. God, consent is so fucking sexy.
You’ve never dabbled in it, never really thought about it either but now, in this predicament? “Maybe just a little,” your voice is low as you give him permission. You weren’t joking when you thought that he can do anything he wants, were you? It doesn’t matter, because you said yes and holy fuck, his hand is going down your pants.
You jolt immediately and how could you not, when he went straight for your clit, right off the bat. Jimin does not play around, that much is obvious. You can only pray the fence is secure enough to keep you out of the water.
“Didn’t think you’d be this turned on by foreplay in public,” he laughs directly in your ear because the moment he ran his fingers against your slit, you threw your head back to lean onto him more, afraid of your legs actually turning into jelly because of him. “I’m proven wrong.”
“You don’t know me well enough to assume my sexual preferences,” somehow, you manage to laugh and remain sassy, thought that is cut short the moment he returns his attention to your clit, circling it very, very slowly. “But I suppose you found out some.”
“And I have the whole night to learn, don’t I, Y/N?”
“You do,” you bite your lip to hold back a moan because he started rubbing his fingers against you, the sudden change from slow to fast catching you off guard.
“You don’t have to keep quiet baby,” he presses a quick kiss against your neck, pushing you more into the rail as he rubs himself against your ass in a manner that almost has you begging for more. You are, internally, but not aloud. Not yet, at least. “I don’t think anyone could hear you down here. And I know I want to.”
“Duly noted,” you moan out because he presses his fingers into you harder – with the pressure and the speed, you know you’re going to fall apart way sooner than you’d though.
There has to be some flaw, right? He cannot be this perfect, no human being can be this perfect. If you were to stick around long enough, maybe you’d find a personality trait of his that makes him less perfect than what he is now, in your eyes, but you won’t be staying long enough to find out. For tonight, you’re more than fine with letting him be your little perfection.
“Let’s go inside?” he suggests as he drags his hand away from you and that is by far the worst thing he had done the whole night. You never want him to stop touching you, but that can be arranged at a more appropriate location. You nod, or so you think you do, unsure of your movements and thoughts, and you let him pull you by the hand and towards the door, pausing to fumble with the keys.
He opens the door and you stumble inside as he puts his bag on a hallway table – you choose to throw yours on the ground, waiting for him to turn on the lights. The moment you can see him clearly, the passion takes over you.
Driven by it, you all but slam him into the wall, almost laughing as his eyes widen in surprise. You don’t though – you don’t laugh, you don’t say anything. You simply reach for the hem of his shirt and lift it up slowly, making sure that your fingers cross every inch of skin you uncover. Seeing him shiver is worth the torture you’re putting yourself through, because a part of you wants to drop to the floor and start unbuckling his belt. You fight your own instincts, wanting and hoping to give him at least a fraction of the pleasure he had given you just moments ago.
Soft to the touch but very well defined, his body is a work of art that could rival those that you have spent the last few days observing. The tattoo you discover on his ribs serves as a perfect imperfection, a blemish on the canvas that somehow looks so right. Gulping, you let him take off his shirt and as soon as he does, you’re against him, kissing those lips of his again.
You don’t stay there long – slowly traveling under his chin, down his neck and all over his chest, staying there long enough, pressing soft kisses and licks until he is properly panting. When his hips roll, subconsciously looking for any kind of friction, you decide to move further down, slowly kissing a trail down his stomach, looking up at him, enjoying the sight of him so visibly… distraught. The moment your eyes meet, he closes his. And now you know you’re doing it right, if for the first time he is the one afraid of eye contact and how deadly it can be.
“You’re killing me,” he chuckles nervously, his voice breathless. And you simply smile, slowly unbuckling his belt and pushing the pants down to his knees as slow as you possibly can. You want to offer a remark about how he’s clearly enjoying it but his cock is one major distraction, in the best way possible.
He’s hard and ready, the sight filling you with instant pride because you know that you did that. You made him like this. A little bit pliant, a little bit breathless and very much not ready for what’s about to come. He’s hard, twitching under your gaze, making your mouth water. You still take it slow, enjoying the pace set to tease him – slowly licking the tip of his dick, smiling as you watch his Adam’s apple bob from above you – he still can’t look at you.
“I love how you’ve been staring me down the whole night and now you can’t handle looking at me,” you admit as you slowly drag your hand up and down his cock. Of course, now he opens his eyes and looks down on you but the lump he swallows shows you that even though he responed to your challenge, he is still very much affected and you’re living for it.
“I see you like to tease,” is what he says, making you smile.
“Very much,” you nod, giving him a quick lick that is followed by another muffled curse coming from him. “But I can be kind too,” you conclude, before finally taking him into your mouth properly.
It’s a bit of a challenge but you are more than happy to take it, slowly sinking your mouth up and down his dick, enjoying the symphony of noises that is coming from him. Every sigh, every curse, every moan – it all just makes you even more adamant to give him the best head of his life.
“Fuck Y/N,” he barely manages to say, moaning as you speed up your movements. He gathers your hair in a makeshift ponytail and slowly starts guiding you faster, eyeing your reaction, despite being momentarily distracted by the sight of you taking all of him into your mouth. “Fuck, you look so… You’re gonna make me come,” he lets out a slightly panicked laughter, gently pushing you away from him, to which you pout. Despite not being that big on blowjobs, giving one to Jimin felt somewhat like a privilege and you wouldn’t admit that lightly. Not wanting to stop completely, you squeeze him in your hand, slowly moving up and down, watching as he goes through another crisis. “Y/N,” he laughs in warning, making you stop, albeit reluctantly.
“Isn’t it the point to make you come?” you ask but still stand up when his hands grab yours by the elbows and he lifts you up to stand next to him.
“Absolutely,” his eyes don’t leave your lips and he gives you a quick kiss, biting into your bottom lip hard enough to earn a moan. “But not like that, not before I fuck you. Not before I have my way with you.”
The smile on his face looks sinister enough to make you even wetter than you were moments ago. He doesn’t sound like a man who makes promises lightly and you get your confirmation as he puts his hands on your hips and starts pushing you back towards the room behind you. You’re too fucked out to notice anything other than the fairly modern design of the furniture around you. Before you can notice anything in particular, your ass slams into a hard surface and you jump up, letting him settle between your legs again and kiss you even harder than he did all night.
You’re the target now, and good god, you’re loving it. His lips alter between being gentle and harsh, kissing you with so much passion before biting, as if he wants to show you that he’s the one in charge. And you let him. By god, you let him.
He takes your shirt and bra off quickly, not wanting to drag it out like you did, but the moment you’re half naked before his eyes, he slows down. If him staring you down made you feel nervous before, you are positively burning right now because he is eating you up. He doesn’t even have to touch you – just the sight of him, looking like he’s about to ruin you is enough to cause goosebumps to form all over your body. He comes closer, attaching his lips to your chest. You are losing your mind because he is purposely slow, kissing you all over before finally attaching his lips to your nipple, taking it into his mouth and slowly rolling his tongue against it. You swear you can feel him smiling, but you’re too far gone to check – especially not when his hand reaches for your other breast, squeezing it shamelessly. You’ve been able to control your noises for a little while, but the moment his teeth come out to play, you’re a goner. With his fingers and lips moving at the same time, you can only moan, reaching towards something, anything to hold and settling for his hair. You grip it, perhaps a bit too harshly if his moan is anything to go by – but he doesn’t stop you. In fact, he simply sucks harder, making you arch your back towards him.
He’ll ruin you. He will absolutely ruin you and you are perfectly fine with it.
After what feels like an eternity, he detaches his mouth away from you and your eyes meet. He truly is a sight for sore eyes, especially now when he looks so blissfully fucked out. His hair is a mess, his lips red from all the kissing and sucking, his torso a work of art. He looks so fucking hot, you moan. At the very sight of him, you moan. He’s not touching you, he’s not teasing you, he’s not doing anything but looking at you and that is enough to make you moan, moan and rut your hips in his direction, looking for friction which you find in the form of his thigh. He lets you, he lets you move against him. Your moment of pleasure doesn’t last long, because he steps back, fumbling to unbutton your jeans. You lay down, ignoring the cold of the table against your naked back, lifting your hips to help him undress you completely. Unlike the slow, sensual moves that you used on him, he is quick, taking them off as fast as he possibly can. When you’re left in nothing but your underwear, that is when he slows down again, crouching down out of your sight.
“Fuck!” you gasp in surprise when you feel him nuzzling his nose against your clothed center – you can feel how wet you are and you know, you know he can smell it, feel it, see it and you absolutely do not care. In fact, you’re even more turned on by the thought of it – he clearly is enjoying it and you want nothing more than to let him know how good he’s making you feel.
He doesn’t torture you for too long and other than a muffled curse, he doesn’t comment on how wet you are for him. Instead, he goes right down to business, using his fingers to move your underwear to the side and he immediately attaches himself to your clit, sucking on it harshly, with the same fervor as when he was sucking on your nipples.  
“Fuck, Jimin!” you moan out, gripping his hair with all the strength you have, knowing that that must have hurt – again, he shows no signs of having a problem with it. Fuck, he probably even likes it.
“What is it baby?” he asks, not waiting for your response and instead choosing to lick up your center. “Are you enjoying it?”
“Yes, fuck yes,” you manage to reply, momentarily distracted by the feel of his finger sinking into you.
“If you let me, I’ll eat you out for hours tomorrow morning,” he tells you, pausing to bite on your thigh, a bite that you know will leave teeth marks, but you don’t protest. “As much as I’d be willing to do it for hours right now, I really need you on my cock.”
“Yeah, okay,” you laugh, biting your lip at the feel of him sinking another finger into you, slowly dragging them in and out as he stands up, keeping his eyes on yours the whole time. You say nothing more – you couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You move your hips in time with his fingers, riding them like you would, and hopefully will, ride his dick in a matter of moments.
“Bedroom?” he suggests as he stops his assault on you. You nod, somehow managing to sit up, nearly laughing at the sight of him. Half naked, with his jeans still hanging right above his knees, his member standing up proudly. How he could wobble you towards the table in that state is beyond you. You don’t have a chance to ask, too distracted with the sight of him licking his fingers, all while looking directly into your eyes. He’ll be the death of you, that’s for sure.
You stand up, leaning against the table as he loses the last articles of his clothing – you barely have the time to take a few deep breaths before he starts kissing you again, his tongue overpowering yours as you moan at the taste of him. You don’t bother opening your eyes, letting him lead you towards the bedroom, trusting him that you won’t end up overboard, hoping that if you do, you wouldn’t be too turned on to notice. You hit a wall and a door on your way there, giggling by the time he is pushing you onto a bed, finally letting you breathe. Standing above you, he somehow manages to look both menacing and hot at the same time. His eyes tell you to wait, which you gladly do, watching him as you settle yourself on top of the covers. You choke on your own breath when you notice his ass, for the first time without the barrier of skintight jeans – it’s a sight, alright. You watch as he fumbles through his suitcase, smiling at him when he turns around, waving a condom at you.
No matter how much you’re into him, there’s no way he’s fucking you without protection. You’re glad he’s on the same page, not even stopping to suggest going bare. While you’d like that and you’re guessing so would he, it’s simply not happening. He walks towards you, not putting the condom on immediately, instead choosing to give his member a few strokes, enjoying the view of you on his bed, naked and waiting. Though your lip bite was an unconscious reaction at the sight before you, he is affected, grunting at the sight – the moment the condom is covering his dick, he is rushing to get on top of you, finally letting you feel his whole body against your own.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he tells you before kissing you passionately, flicking his tongue slowly as he settles between your legs. He doesn’t enter you immediately, instead choosing to grind onto you, making the both of you moan into the kiss. You’re the one who pulls away, if only for a moment.
“Please,” you moan out, enjoying the feel of his dick rubbing against you, pushing you closer to the edge – too close, considering you didn’t even have a chance to feel him inside of you. “Please just fuck me.”
“Gladly,” he gives you a quick kiss before finally sliding into you. Slowly and with ease, he fills you up in a way that makes you moan – louder than you did the whole night, feeling absolutely shameless. You don’t care, you don’t care where you are or who can hear you, if anyone – he feels that damn good.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” you gasp, taken by surprise with him slowly rolling his hips into you. It’s as if he can tell you need no more time to adjust to him, he starts moving a bit faster with each roll of his hips, making you curse out as you grab onto him, your fingers digging into his skin. It seems he enjoys you being rough with him, showing him how good he’s making you feel because he isn’t complaining and you know it has to hurt. He wastes no time, dipping down to take your nipple into his mouth, never stopping his dick from moving in and out of you in the best of ways.
“God,you’re so tight baby!” he grunts as his thrusts become harder and faster, so much so that you faintly notice the sound of the bed thumping into something, most likely the wall. You don’t care, you really don’t – you pull him closer to you, blindly reaching for his lips, enjoying the way he overpowers your senses, even smell - he smells like sex and expensive cologne, the most mouthwatering scent you’ve ever had the pleasure of smelling. The moment your lips touch, you feel his hand graze your clit, eliciting a particularly loud moan for you. Unable to focus on anything, you give into pleasure and let him do whatever he wants with you, the onslaught on your senses killing the little sanity you had left.
You dare and think it can’t get any better than this and right as you do, he delivers a particularly hard thrust, pinching your clit between his fingers at the same time. You weren’t ready – you weren’t ready for it at all and with his actions catching you by surprise, you lose the little control you’ve had, coming hard. The orgasm washes over you stronger than any orgasm in your recent memory, making you gasp and moan, holding onto him with all the strength your body has left. He is losing his cool too – his hands give in and he’s pressed up against you completely, lips grazing your ear. “Just like that, come all over my cock,” he urges you through your high, his words making it even harder for you to calm down.
Body shivering, you somehow calm down your breathing – it’s a challenge, seeing as he still hasn’t stopped moving completely. He slowed down enough not to send you in complete overdrive too soon. Even his consideration is a turn on – almost as strong of a turn on as him using your body to pleasure himself, still rolling his hips into you and moaning softly, directly into your ear, the moan turning more high pitched when he feels your nails running up and down his back.
Turning your head towards him, you search for his lips. He kisses you eagerly, stilling himself inside of you for a moment, as if he wants to focus on the kiss and kiss alone. Slowly, he moves away from you and leans back, running his hand up your thigh. He raises his eyebrows as he pushes your leg up, asking you for permission. You nod, moaning as he moves your leg towards the side. Quickly, you turn to your side completely and judging by the moan he lets out, that’s exactly what he needed you to do.
You want to do more, you do. You want to ride him till you can no longer move but he is so damn overwhelming, all you can do right now is just… take it. And you’re not complaining. Slowly but surely, the pleasure builds up again and you realize there’s a strong chance you’ll come again. Suddenly brave again, you look at him, directly at him, as you put a hand between your legs and start rubbing yourself. The moment he realizes what you’re doing, he looks down, lifting your leg up so that he can have a better view. “Fuck,” is all he says, followed by the sexiest groan you have ever heard a man make.
“I’m so close,” you warn him, wanting to feel all of it again but somehow not wanting it to end.
“Come on baby, come for me again,” he urges you on. As much as you want to, you really don’t want it to be over anytime soon - the buildup was so damn hot and you simply don’t want to stop. Thinking about his earlier promise about eating you out for hours is what pushes you over the edge. Feeling Jimin and think of the dirty words he whispered in your ear is enough for you to come again, your entire body shivering with pure pleasure. Looking up at him, you notice the way his face scrunches, the way his voice is deeper and his moans never stopping… he takes over you again.
“I’m going to come,” he warns you, making you remember that he can’t come inside of you and fill you up, which is something you would really, really like. You settle for the next best thing.
“Come on me,” you tell him, moving your leg out of his still firm grip, and spreading your legs as much as possible, now having a perfect view of him slamming into you, much faster than he did before. “Come anywhere you want,” you urge him, biting your lip as his hips lose rhythm at your suggestion. In the speed of light, he slips out of you, leaving you empty and wanting more, more of him, more of his dick, more of anything he’d be willing to give you. You watch as he takes the condom off in the speed of light, still rubbing yourself and ignoring the overstimulation you are feeling, absolutely urged by the hottest sight you have seen in your entire life: Jimin, stroking himself with a firm grip, moaning loudly as he closes his eyes, his face scrunched in pleasure.
You watch in awe as he finishes all over you, the streaks of his cum reaching all the way up to your breasts. You have never, never in your entire life, experienced anything hotter than this. You know now, there is nothing hotter than watching Jimin orgasm. And you have never in your miserable life had sex nearly as good as the one you had now.
Jimin’s body gives up and he falls directly on top of you, making you chuckle. Your hands roam his back, as if you are comforting him through the aftermath, completely ignoring the fact that his now softening member is still rubbing against you. Both of you are sweaty, your bodies covered in his cum but you don’t care and neither does he. Once he is finally able to move, he simply leans a bit to the side, just so that he can look at you. And he does. With the brightest, sweetest smile that shouldn’t belong to a man who fucked you as hard as he just did.
“Hi,” you speak up first, shocked at how rough your voice sounds. Perhaps you were a bit louder than you thought you were. He smiles and you feel yourself melting again, accepting that you are whipped for him, way more whipped than you should be for someone you barely know. He doesn’t make it any easier on you when he leans in for a kiss, his lips slow and lazy and yours following suit, ignoring the butterflies that are going berserk in your stomach again. You ignore it all, shutting your brain off and enjoying the post sex glow that he is radiating with.
He pulls away but not before caressing your face and pushing hair behind your ear – a very sweet action for someone whose mouth can do all those dirty, lovely things.
“That was… wow,” he admits and for the first time since you’ve met him, you think you see a blush on his face – a blush that isn’t caused by alcohol, that is. Is he suddenly shy? Is it the post sex blush? You don’t know and you don’t care, as long as you can keep looking at him.
“Wow seems appropriate,” you agree, joining in his laughter. He is still chuckling as he nuzzles into your neck, giving you a few quick pecks before pulling away.
“Do you want to stay the night?” he raises his eyebrows, giving you a way out if you don’t want to take him up on his earlier offer. “I could call you a cab or even walk you back to your place. I’d like you to stay the night though.”
“Good, because I don’t think I can use my legs at the moment.”
It wasn’t supposed to be such a funny remark but for some reason, he laughs hard and after fighting it for a few seconds, you can’t help but join in. If you look past his hotness and the ease with which he communicates with people, he really does have a comfortable aura around him – if he laughs, it’s contagious and you don’t mind joining in.
The two of you calm down and after a few moments of silence, he runs his hand through your hair again, pushing it away from your face as his eyes focus on different parts of it – first your eyes, then your lips, then your cheeks. It looks as if he is trying to memorize you and to that you can relate because this is one night you’d never want to forget, not one part of it. And not one part of him. “Let’s go and get cleaned up?” he suggests.
You’ve lost count of how many times you have let him take you by the hand and lead the way for the both of you. You are yet to regret those decisions, gladly letting him lead the way now, knowing that wherever he takes you… it’s going to be good.
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You wake up feeling content, well rested and sore, all at once. With a dumb smile on your face, you giggle and bury your face in the pillow – it smells of him, making your memories of the night before even more vivid.
His promise of devoting hours to you and your body this morning did not wait until dawn. It all occurred the night before, with you still kissing one another by the time sun had started to rise and the birds had started chirping.
It all comes back to you in flashes, the bath you took together, the way he caressed your skin as he was washing you up, before his hands went a bit further south. Both the sweet words and the dirty talk are engraved in your mind forever, just like the way he made you feel all of last night.
You knew it before, you’re sure of it now – he has ruined you. He has absolutely ruined you, in the best way possible. And you don’t want it to end.
You knew it had an expiration date. This is a trip romance – short, sweet, steamy and memorable. It had an expiration date the moment the two of you shared the first smiles in front of ‘Shakespeare and company’. While the thought of it does leave a bitter taste in your mouth, you’re a big girl and you can live with it. Smiling, you decide to enjoy the morning, or early afternoon, with Jimin. You’ll deal with the negative side effects later.
“Afternoon, beautiful,” you hear him, turning around towards the direction his voice is coming from – he is leaning against the doorway, smiling at you, looking too hot for his own good with gray sweatpants, a white shirt and a part of his dark hair pulled back in a makeshift bun. “Did you sleep well?”
“Surprisingly, yes,” he smiles as you close your eyes and shamelessly yawn, remembering a second too late that you should put a hand over your mouth. You open your eyes just in time to see him sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your naked thigh and slowly moving it up and down your skin. It’s not as sexual as his touches were last night – in fact, this feels more comforting than anything else. “How long was I out? Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, I slept like a log. And it’s 2PM now, so you’ve had a few hours.”
“2PM?” you’re shocked to realized you’ve already lost half the day. It was very much worth it, though.
“You have somewhere to be?” he teases you, probably unaware how he makes the butterflies in your stomach go nuts. You have a sneaky suspicion that he’s not aware of your dilemma – do you go, do you stay? Does he want you to go or does he want you to stay? What are you even supposed to say now?
“No, not really,” you shrug, cowardly throwing the ball into his court. You’ll admit it, you’re a whimp and you are more than happy to let him decide if you should be on your way or stick around a bit longer.
“Well, I’ve made us some quick lunch. I wanted to order something but wasn’t sure if you’d want to stick around for food… so I figured I’ll make something and eat both portions if you bolt,” he admits through laughter and you’re immediately relieved – you weren’t the only one uncertain about everything.
“I don’t have to bolt. And I’m also kind of starving,” you admit, shuddering when you remember that the last thing you ate was a croissant almost a full day ago – you’re absolutely starving.
“We can eat on the deck if you want?” he suggest, before breaking out into a sudden smile.
“What?” you ask, confused with how he’s looking at you. You either have something on your face or he’s going to make this whole thing 20 times more difficult and you’re afraid the second situation is more likely.
“Nothing. You’re just beautiful like that,” he shrugs as you let him run his hands through your hair.
“Half-dead and messy looking? I’m sure I am,” you roll your eyes.
“Not messy. Sexy,” he corrects you, the same way he did last night. With a sigh, he pulls away and stands up. “I’m starving too, so you’d better hurry up if you don’t want me eating you up instead.”
“I don’t think I’d mind that, to be honest,” you admit, hiding your face in his pillow, knowing that you no longer have the dark to hide the blush that appears whenever you say something a bit more straightforward.
You expected him to say something or maybe laugh – you absolutely didn’t expect to feel his teeth on your right ass cheek. You jump up in surprise, nearly hitting him in the head when your leg jerks, but that only makes him laugh. You’re smiling way too wide for someone who’s just been bitten on the ass and you decide to scream into the pillow once he’s away enough not to hear it.
“Your clothes and underwear are dry and clean but feel free to steal that shirt from me,” he winks at you. “I’ll wait on the deck.”
With that, he leaves you alone to get dressed, try to gather your thoughts and maybe, just maybe, control your emotions a little bit. It would have been a lot easier if he was the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ kind of guy but surprise, he’s not! No, he fucked you like a full-fledged sex god, giving you the best night of your life, while caring enough to throw your clothes into the washer and drier and even wanting to feed you the next day. Nope, still no flaws in sight for Park Jimin.
You wash up quickly, slapping yourself a few times for good measure, hoping to calm yourself down enough to be able to turn around and leave very soon. You still don’t know if it had worked but your bag is packed and you join him on the deck, dressed in your jeans and the shirt he wore yesterday that he generously let you sleep in and steal for good.
He doesn’t notice you immediately, leaned back in the chair with his eyes closed. The sight of him sitting like that, with his dark hair pulled back and tied, his neck in full view and all but glowing in the sunlight makes you want to cry. The man is actually so goddamn pretty it almost brings tears to your eyes. It doesn’t help when he notices you and smiles at you, pointing at the two bowls set on the table.
“I know it’s just noodles but honestly, I’m too pretty to know how to cook,” he explains as you take a seat. You burst out laughing at his comment.
“Cocky yet very true,” you nod in appreciation. “Don’t worry, I love ramen.”
“It’s lame but I at least I’ve added poached eggs,” he tells you, looking oh so proud about adding an extra ingredient.
“Nothing beats instant ramen,” you reassure him. “It smells of youth, not having enough money and artificial flavoring. I’ve never felt more at home,” this time around, it’s he who laughs, wishing you a good meal as the both of you dig into the food. You weren’t lying when you said it’s more than okay – you just need some food in the belly and it’s not like you’ve expected him to greet you with a full course meal. It’s the thought that counts and it’s more than enough. Actually, it might even be too much.
Halfway through your lunch, the silence between you turns slightly uncomfortable. It isn’t anything that either one of you did – it’s just the entire situation. The clock is ticking, the both of you know it and neither one of you is quite sure how to act about it. You can’t stay here for another day, even if you wanted to – your stuff and a huge chunk of your money is back at your airbnb. Even with that little detail aside, you’re not even sure if you want to say – not to mention, if he wants you to stay or not.
But it feels… wrong. It feels wrong to leave just like that, pretending like he hadn’t given you an amazing night. Not only was the sex mind-blowingly good… even before that, he was a perfect travel partner yesterday. He’s good company and knowing you’ll be saying goodbye to all of that… it doesn’t sit well with you.
Despite avoiding eye contact for a few minutes now, you fail and the moment your eyes meet from across the table, you know you’ve reached that page of the little novella the two of you wrote. He knows it too, setting away his chopsticks, sighing as he leans back into the chair. You say nothing, watching him as he stares you down, slowly shaking his head.
“I don’t want this to end,” he admits. You stay silent, following his suit as you put away your own chopsticks and lean back into the chair, completely shutting down the rest of the world – you no longer hear the birds or passing boats. You don’t see the tourists walking along the river, you don’t even feel the subtle waves that gently sway the boat you’re on – you can only focus on him, on his face, on the way he looks bothered by this. “It feels wrong to end this but at the same time, doesn’t it feel like the only proper way to go about it? Am I making any sense?” he asks, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“Yeah,” you nod immediately, assuring him that you do understand it. “It feels good, it feels right, like it would be a shame to walk away from but… what else can be done?”
“Exactly,” he agrees, leaning towards you. “It feels equally right and wrong. What are we going to do?”
You can go back to get your stuff and spend the rest of the trip here with him. You can exchange numbers and meet up back home. It could lead to something beautiful, a continuation of a marvelous chapter one, just as easily as it can lead to a complete disaster. Life’s unpredictable and you don’t know if it’s worth it to possibly ruin this amazing… encounter.
How can you even find an answer to that? Not like this whole thing hasn’t been…
“You believe in destiny, don’t you?” you ask him, suddenly putting two and two together, smiling at the confused nod he gives you. “We met here so many times. Different days, different times, we somehow ended up together. Who’s to say that won’t happen again?” you ask.
“What are you suggesting here? To… see if we meet again?”
“Exactly,” you nod, feeling proud of the solution you’ve come up with. ���You believe in destiny and I don’t. If we meet again, I’d be willing to question that belief. We go our separate ways. If it ends up being a onetime encounter, we’ll remember it with smiles on our faces. And if we meet…”
“I don’t let you walk away again,” he smirks at you. You don’t say anything as that smirk turns into a genuine, real smile. He means it, he actually means it. And if you meet him again… you will too. “What happens if we run into each other back home?” he asks.
You remember how you talked last night, realizing that the two of you were hanging around the same places before, perhaps even at the same time. It made you wonder how many times you have passed one another, without a second glance, thinking of other things, of other people. Running into him back home seems more likely than seeing him again here in Paris.
“Then we say hello and see where that takes us,” you answer adamantly.
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
He offers you his hand from across the table and you shake it firmly, suddenly a lot more hopeful than you were moments ago. No, you don’t believe in destiny but if there’s someone that could make you question that, it’s Park Jimin himself.
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“Fucking hell,” you curse under your breath as you wrestle your way through the crowd – for the first time since you’ve arrived in Paris, you were stuck in the metro during rush hour and you have never felt so many backpacks smacking your face in such a short amount of time.
Trying to get Google Maps on, you make your way up the stairs and into fresh air, taking a deep breath when you do. If your phone is correct and based on your previous experiences, it’s probably not, you’re a five minute walk away from the Luxembourg Gardens.  A perfect way to end your last full day in Paris – outside and hopefully away from any kind of crowd.
You walk in the direction your navigation deems right, checking every few seconds if it had started spinning out of control like it did yesterday – there is nothing more stressful than your GPS telling you to turn right and once you do, immediately telling you to take a sharp left.
It’s the smell that makes you take a detour – it’s always the smell. Sure, you could continue to sheepishly follow your navigation but when the smell of freshly baked pastry smacks you in the face, you know where you’re heading. The bakery is fairly empty and you test your poor French as you order a plain croissant.
Damn him and his plain croissants. Something that should be so simple and so irrelevant now irks you, almost to the point of you changing your order to a chocolate one. You don’t, already knowing that you’re nowhere near proficient enough in French to explain your change of heart.
The lady behind the counter is a bit of a bitch, not waiting for you to put your wallet away before she hands you your meal, giving you a dirty look when it takes you a second too long to take it from her. Offering her a sour, kiss-my-ass smile, you take the pastry and head towards the door, now trying to juggle your food, phone, wallet and the door handle, all at once.
You’ve just managed to close the door behind you and turn around, nearly avoiding a collision.
“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, gripping your phone and the pastry harder, stopping them from flying out of your hand.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!”
Your heart stops at the sound of his voice. You slowly look up, scared of both confirming and denying your suspicions, unsure which one would hurt more – him being here or him being a product of your imagination. You know that voice and you know it well.
It’s him, looking panicked and checking if you have a hold on your things. “I’m sorry, I…” he goes mute once his eyes meet yours and he realizes it’s you.
Jimin stares at you, not saying anything. One second before the encounter turns uncomfortable, you watch in amazement as he grins at you, a grin so wide and genuine your heart skips a beat.
“I… I could have dropped my croissant.”
He huffs a small laugh at your horribly timed Vine reference, pursing his lips as he tries to hide his smile – why, you don’t know and don’t care to find out because he can’t do it. He can’t hide his smile and it’s evident that he’s happy to see you. So are you, thanking and cursing at destiny at the same time.
Taking your empty hand in his, he says nothing as he intertwines your fingers and starts walking, slowly leading you away with him. You follow him, desperately thinking of what to say, of what to do but somehow too panicked to actually do anything. It feels like one of you should do something and apparently, he thinks the same because he suddenly stops and turns your way.
He puts his hands on your face, pulling you in for a kiss. The moment your lips are pressed against his, you remember how much you’ve wanted to do this since the last time you’ve kissed him, before walking down the steps of his boathouse. The relief that fills you as he deepens the kiss makes you a reluctant but firm believer in destiny.
No words are needed, you know that now. So when he leans away and smiles at you, you smile back, reaching for his hand again. He leads the way and again you follow, knowing you’re definitely not going to regret it this time either. THE END
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byeoltoyuki · 3 years
Text
Release my heart ⇾ Ch.5
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↳ Pairing: Jimin x You
❧ Genre : Fluff / Smut / angst / gang au
❧ Warnings : oral (M F) / biting / mention of rape / violence
❧ Words: +7k
❧ Summary: Your world is turned upside down when your father decides to sell you to the infamous gang in order to pay his debts.
A/N : I’m baaaack. It’s highly unedited 🥲. 2 more chapters to go!
****
You thought that now that you and Jimin were a thing (well, kind of), things would have changed. For instance, you highly expected your life to get easier, calmer and you believed you would spend more time with Jimin. It didn’t, however, go as you had planned. Oh yes, you did spend more time with Jimin, in fact, he kept you by his side as much as he could but life getting calmer?
Not gonna happen. Not under this roof.
Just when Jimin decided he would spend one more morning in bed with you, Taehyung chose to barge in his room (you were sure it was locked so how in the world he managed to get inside was still a mystery to you).
"That’s enough!" Taehyung had yelled so loud you both winced.
Your first reaction was to pull the sheets to hide your body. Your second reaction was to curse under your breath because there was no way you could go back to your business after this rude interruption. Jimin on the other hand was faster to react - he threw a pillow at Taehyung (who dodged it easily) followed by a loud ‘get out’ and a ‘dumbass’.
But did Taehyung even listen? Ha. What a joke.
"You." Taehyung pointed a very accusing finger at Jimin. "Stole my partner in crime." He looked absolutely outraged which made Jimin speechless and confused. "Do you know how sad I am? Do you?"
"What the-" Jimin tried
"Hush you! I’m not done." Taehyung cut him, his scowl only deepening. Taehyung was a big drama queen, you knew that, but you didn’t think it could get any worse. He proved you he could. "I’m happy you found a girl who can deal with your shit but how dare you keeping my friend from me! I haven’t seen her for a whole week!"
Oh my god, you thought fighting back the urge to laugh at his ridiculously adorable outburst (and at the face Jimin was making).
"Taehyung." Jimin tried one more time and this time Taehyung didn’t try to stop him, instead he put his hands on his hips and stared angrily at Jimin. If looks could kill, Jimin would have been dead. You took advantage of their silent fight to get out of bed and put some clothes on.
"This is ridiculous." Jimin groaned painfully. All his plans for this morning were ruined which put him in a foul mood.
"Is it now?"
You came to Jimin’s rescue by approaching Taehyung and putting your hand on his arm. "You’re such a dork." There was no way you could scold him for the outburst or for the disturbance (though your body was aching with need). "I’m sorry, I should have paid you a visit."
Taehyung nodded vigorously as he approved your words. "You ditched me for him!"
You glanced over your shoulder at a positively done Jimin and grinned widely. "I ditched you for a dick." You looked back at Taehyung - he bit on his lips, clearly trying not to laugh at your statement or at the loud gasp that left Jimin’s lips.
"Tsk." Taehyung took a step towards you, eyes darting back and forth between you and Jimin.
You knew that look. Jimin knew that look. He was up to something and whenever Taehyung was up to something it usually led to disaster.
"Don’t." You heard Jimin. You looked back at him but before you could think of any question to ask, you were lifted from the floor and thrown over a shoulder.
Jimin jumped from the bed, ready to fight, to kick Taehyung’s ass. "Put her back!"
Taehyung laughed, a very mischievous laugh in your opinion - he gave your butt a playful slap which made you squeal and giggle like a little girl. "Not gonna happen! For today Park Jimin, I’m kidnapping your woman." He was ready to leave with you still on his shoulder, arm tightly wrapped around your legs - he looked back. "And don’t you dare following us!"
A calmer life? Nah, not under this roof indeed.
*** 
To make sure Jimin wouldn’t follow you around, Taehyung took you out, after of course letting you time to change into something more comfortable and suitable for your activities. 
“Do you really think he won’t follow us?” You joked as Taehyung led you through different stores too excited. Clearly his love for shopping was just too big for a gangster but you chose not to comment.
Taehyung nodded, he pulled a nice black turtleneck sweater that would look lethal on him. “He’s annoyed but he knows me. He won’t follow.” Then he glanced at you smiling sheepishly. “This would look good on me don’t you think?”
“No.”
Taehyung poked your side playfully. “Liar.”  
The little shit.  
***
After two hours of walking around, five bags on your account and so much more for Taehyung, you decided that a break would be nice which led you to the closest Starbucks to get yourself some drinks. 
“Ugh how can you drink this.” Taehyung pointed at your choice of drink which was a cold brew. You needed coffee and apparently Taehyung highly disliked it. He made a face and averted his eyes to his own drink.
“What a baby.” You muttered to yourself but Taehyung had heard it - he shot you a nasty gaze and sipped angrily at his Frappuccino. 
"First she’s spending too much time with her boyfriend, now she’s being a meanie." Taehyung muttered to himself but still loud enough for you to hear him.
Geez this man.
You rolled your eyes at him.
"Stop sulking, I’m sorry."
"You aren’t."
"Right. Am not." You smiled nevertheless and Taehyung found it quite contagious.
"I’m happy for both of you." Taehyung stopped playing around as he told you that. "I didn’t picture Jimin as a boyfriend type of guy, but it suits him." 
"Which makes me think. Jimin met your dad."
You almost chocked at that. Why? When? The piece of information brought too many questions.  The combination of Jimin and your dad could not end well, you experienced it once after all. 
"What for?"
Taehyung looked all too smug, too happy about the situation in your opinion. 
"He was annoyed."
"Annoyed?"
"Yes. Jimin heard about him and his news debts. It got him mad." Taehyung leaned closer to whisper the last part. "Pretty sure he would have killed him if I wasn’t there to stop him."
"He wouldn’t." But you knew he would.
"Jimin asked him if he felt no shame after what he did to you. What else was he planning to sell now that you were gone."
You had to admit that a part of you was delighted to know that Jimin got so protective over you. But the part about your dad being again with debts and repeating his mistakes stung. He didn’t learn, he didn’t regret. Your life could have been completely ruined just because of him.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. When you opened your eyes again they fell upon a terribly familiar face. A face you had wanted to see so badly for months, but now that you did, you were terrified. And Taehyung saw it.
"Y/N?"
You blinked at him. "Sorry."
"Seems to me like you saw a ghost."
You did. In a way. What were the odds you would see one of your closest friend after what seemed like an eternity when you were out with Taehyung? 
It would have been so easy to run to her, to hug her and leave with her without Taehyung being fast enough to stop you; he would be too stunned. 
You did none of that. 
Your heart ached of course, memories flooding your mind. You couldn’t leave. Didn’t want to.
"You saw someone you know, didn’t you?"
Taehyung was too perceptive and sometimes it scared you.
The wise thing to do, considering the people you were involved with, would have been to lie. You chose not to. It was Taehyung. Yes, he was a bad guy. Yes, he was dangerous. Unpredictable. But Taehyung was also your friend and you chose to trust him. "Yes."
"Do you want to talk to her?" He took you off guard. "I wouldn’t mind."
When you chose (not like he had left you a choice) to spend the day with him, you didn’t expect it to get emotional. But it did. Tears prickled in the corner of your eyes at his words, at their true meaning. He trusted you enough to let you see someone from your life.
"Oh come on! Don’t even think about crying!"
"Sorry, sorry!" You quickly wiped your tears. "Thank you for trusting me."
Taehyung only smiled at that. 
** 
After a long, yet absolutely lovely, afternoon with Taehyung, your first step was to get to Jimin’s room. Call it being clingy or mushy but you did miss his unfairly handsome face. Not like you didn’t enjoy Taehyung’s company, but you wanted to see Jimin. Sadly for you, Jimin wasn’t in his room which you half expected since Taehyung had ruined all his plans and he was probably sulking somewhere else. This thought made you smile to yourself (things that would have been unimaginable few weeks ago). You quickly changed your outfit, knowing exactly what would unsettle Jimin. 
Your second step was Jimin’s office. This time, you were lucky. He was in there, looking extremely concentrated (at least until he heard your voice) and grumpy judging by how tightly he was gripping the paper he was reading. 
"Aren’t you coming?" You asked him, leaning against the door. You smiled knowingly at him; Jimin refused to raise his head, to look at you. What a stubborn man, you thought. "Jimin?" You tried again. You were stubborn too.
"Not yet." 
When did Jimin become so predictable? You bit on your lips, trying very badly to prevent a chuckle and upset him further. There were two possible explanation to his answer. Either he was still sulking about Taehyung kidnapping you for a whole day, or he was actually busy. 
"Are you sure?" 
He was but you had other plans on mind. 
While Jimin pretended being very busy, you took a slow and silent step towards him, taking your jacket of you and letting it fall on the nearest furniture. He still didn’t look at you, not even when he heard your steps. He still didn’t look at you when you had lazily unbuttoned your beige silky blouse, exposing your black lacy bra. He still refused to look at you even when you sat on the edge of his desk. 
Jimin was playing hard to get, you realized. Fine by me.  
You crossed your legs, your skirt exposing even more of your bare legs. The gesture got Jimin’s attention. He looked like he was trying not to peek but judging by how tense he suddenly got, you knew it affected him. 
"What a pity. And here I was looking forward for some fun." You sighed, feigning sadness. You ran your hand through your locks and uncrossed your legs, pretending you were about to leave. It did it trick. 
Jimin groaned and closed his eyes as he tried to keep his cool. "Fuck."
You had won, you knew it.
"Hm?" You hummed 
Jimin stood up from his chair, grabbed your arms and looked sternly at you. "How dare you interrupt my work." If he intended to sound scary it didn’t work. How could it when he was staring at you with hungry, dark eyes. He licked his lips, eyes darting back and forth between your lips, your eyes and your prettily exposed breasts. "You’re such a tease."
You bit on your lips, knowing that it would drive him crazy. "Doesn’t sound like me." You spread your legs for him to settle in between. "At all."
And he did. He pressed himself as closer to you as he could. He grabbed your chin, tilting it higher so you would look him into the eyes. "Do you know what I do to bad girls?" You knew but you shook your head, pretending not to know. Because where would be the fun otherwise? Jimin clicked his tongue in fake annoyance. He let go of your chin, instead his fingers slid slowly, gently, from your chin to your neck to your breasts. "I bet you’d be devastated if I choose not to touch you, wouldn’t you?"
You gasped. "You wouldn’t dare." That would be plain mean and unfair but by the look he gave you, you believed him. "Jimin!" 
Your desperate whine made him chuckle darkly. It was so easy to scare you, to tease you. He leaned over you, face so close to yours you could feel his warm breath on your lips. You wanted to just grab his face and smash your lips against his, to claim him as yours but something told you that you should stay still and wait for his next move. 
"What Y/N?" He muttered against your lips, "Don’t like my idea?" His lips brushed yours so lightly you could barely feel them and it drove you mad. 
"Please." You begged him, gripping on his desk so hard your knuckles turned white. Your whole body was aching with need; you wanted to feel him, to feel his hands on you, to kiss him. 
"What do you want me to do?" Jimin finally asked 
You didn’t need to be asked twice. "Kiss me." 
Jimin smirked to himself but complied eagerly. He cupped your face as his mouth was on yours. Finally. Jimin’s lips felt like heaven. Plump, soft, delicious and you were damn addicted. You could spend hours just kissing him and it would be enough to make you the happiest woman on earth. 
"Did you had fun with Taehyung?" Jimin whispered against your lips.
You groaned. Did he really want to talk about Taehyung when you were so desperate for him? 
"You left me alone." He complained but despite that, his lips traveled south, to your neck.  He nibbled and bit, leaving marks on his way. 
"I know, I’m sorry." You managed to say but Jimin bit harshly your skin making you moan and stop from defending your case. Because all Jimin wanted was to torture you and not hearing any excuses. 
Swiftly he removed your blouse and your bra, freeing your breasts. You barely had time to react that his lips latched itself on your nipple, sucking it hard.
"Jimin!" You gasped and arched your back so he could have a better access. Your hand flew to his hair, grabbing his locks tightly as he played with your nipples. Sucking, biting, pinching, you couldn’t think straight. 
Jimin bit right under your breast, making sure to leave another mark before his hands found your thighs. He sank on his knees only to press a kiss to your thigh before letting his tongue ran from your knee to your center. He stared at your covered pussy, admiring how wet you were without him doing much.
"Always so needy for me, princess." Jimin chuckled and quickly pulled at your panties, almost tearing them. "Look at you. So wet." He didn’t let you a chance to answer as he kissed your clit. "All for me."
"For you." You let out, trembling.  
He raised his head to look at you. And what a sight. Having Jimin nestled in between your thighs, looking so hungry at you, pupils blown, hair messy with all the pulling. Jimin licked his lips, "Good." And his lips were back around your clit, sucking hard, making you gasp loudly and throw your head back.
"Jimin! Fuck!" He knew exactly what he was doing. With every lick, every suck, he got you crying out his name. "Fuck, don’t stop please." To that, Jimin threw your leg over his shoulder to get a better access to your pussy. 
There was absolutely no way you could last for long, not when Jimin’s tongue was doing magic. Not when he pushed two fingers against your hole in addition to his tongue. Your walls clenched around his fingers and you begged him for more. Begged him for a release that he gladly gave you. As you came completely undone on his tongue, your vision faded to black, the only thing that kept you grounded was Jimin’s hand tightening on your thigh and your hands that gripped tightly his hair.
Jimin straightened up, gently cupped your face and pecked your lips. You tasted yourself on his lips, smiling all too happy at him. 
"Thank you." Your head fell against his shoulder and he let you recover, arms wrapped tightly around you.
"Let’s get to my room, hm?"
***
"Y/N!" Yoojin pulled at your arm, desperately, trying to stop you from leading her to a place that would get her in trouble. "You know very well that except from other members and well you, nobody is allowed in there!"
You knew but you didn’t listen. You understood her fear, nobody wanted to get on the bad side of the boss himself, you included (even if you had a hard time imagining Namjoon as a mean and dangerous man). But what Yoojin didn’t know was that you had almost begged Namjoon to allow you to bring her to the garden since the weather was so lovely and you knew Yoojin would enjoy it just as much as you would. He, of course, said yes.
You glanced over your shoulder, smiling wickedly at her. "Don’t worry. I promise you won’t get in trouble." 
To say that Yoojin wasn’t convinced would be an understatement but seeing how eager you were, she couldn’t bring herself to fight. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about this place. She had heard a lot from you and then of course from rumors but the reality was much better.
"Wow." Yoojin muttered as she stood at the entrance of the garden. "This is so-"
"Beautiful, isn’t it?"
Yoojin nodded. "Can’t believe Namjoon is the owner."
You chuckled at that. "Funny thing. I have no problem imagining Namjoon owning this place but I can’t imagine him being the boss."
"You can’t be serious. This man screams boss and danger." Yoojin protested 
"Not to me. When I met him, he was only Namjoon to me. I didn’t know who he was, so I guess I saw a side of him you don’t get to see?" 
It made sense, Yoojin realized and nodded her head. 
You started by showing her the place, showing her different plants, flowers, explaining where they came from (because some came from Namjoon’s different trips which impressed you the first time he brought you a new plant). Yoojin was bewildered but enchanted with the garden. She wasn’t good with plants. Heck she could barely take care of herself. But this place was amazing and she saw Namjoon differently. 
"And this is the best part." 
You showed her the table that you had set for two for your breakfast. You had prepared everything from food to drinks to small blankets since it was still early and fresh outside. 
"This is," Yoojin started as she sat on the wooden chair. "Lovely, beautiful. I don’t think I have enough words to describe how amazing this place is. No wonder you like to spend your free time here."
You stiffened at her words. "Right. About that."
Yoojin cocked a brow at your sudden odd behavior. "What is it?"
You knew that Jimin was a rather sensitive subject to Yoojin, in fact you were sure that if she could avoid any talk about him, she would do it but you couldn’t possibly hide forever your relationship from her. "I’ve been spending time with Jimin."
Yoojin didn’t say a word which only made you more nervous and quite miserable.
"Fuck it." You cursed under your breath. "The hell is your story with Jimin?" That was not what you were planning to talk about when you decided to bring her here, but now suddenly the right time to ask. 
"It’s not a big deal." Yoojin averted her eyes from your face to her still empty cup. 
You followed her eyes and quickly poured her some tea. "It is. I’ve seen how angry you get whenever I mention him or worse when he’s in the same room."
She sighed. "And here I thought you invited me to get a nice breakfast outside." 
You chuckled at that. "That’s the plan."
You almost expected Yoojin to tell you to forget about it, or maybe to even threaten to leave if you kept asking about this story. She didn’t. She took a sip of her tea before looking back at you. Her eyes got suddenly so sad, so empty - you shivered.
"I used to do drugs." 
"You? No way!"
She laughed. "I did. I was pretty famous in my field and I got along with different houses. It was an easy life since I was well known. And this is how I’ve met Jimin." She paused as a small yet bitter smile drew on her face. "Jimin offered me money in exchange for information. I didn’t think much about it because hey it was easy money and wouldn’t get too risky for me. I was wrong." 
"Did you get hurt? Was it a trap?" You couldn’t stop yourself from blabbering. Maybe you were being a little impatient now that she was finally opening up to you.
Yoojin, luckily for you, wasn’t bothered by your question. "Yes but not physically at least." Her eyes fell back on her cup that she was holding tightly in her hands. It was warm and comforting. "This is how I met Johnny. Another stupid drug dealer but who pledged his loyalty to a gang." 
Oh I don’t like where it’s heading. 
"He was a nice guy. A little clumsy, simple minded but I couldn’t resist his smile. I fell for it." She chuckled at the memory. "He was willing to leave everything behind for me you know?" Her eyes found yours and what you saw almost broke your heart. The sheer pain. 
"But he couldn’t. You couldn’t." You whispered.
"Yes. You can’t just fly, they will always find you. Jimin used Johnny and when it got heated, he killed him."
No, you wanted to say but all you did was to open your mouth and close it right away. 
"I hated him so much. All I wanted was my revenge, to kill him." 
"Then what happened after?"
Yoojin’s grip on the cup tightened. "I couldn’t get my revenge. I had no purpose in life. I felt empty. Numb."
It saddened you. You couldn’t stop yourself from covering her hands with yours. "I’m so sorry."
For the first time in a while, Yoojin felt warm and happy. The hole Johnny’s death had left, suddenly didn’t seems big now. Yoojin realized as she glanced at your hands that in this shithole she made a friend. A real one. It was lovely.
"Don’t be." She smiled. "I used to be so angry. But I’m not anymore."
***
You thought about Yoojin’s story for almost the whole day, you couldn’t help it. You liked Yoojin and you clearly adored Jimin, it was hard not toffees bad about their ill fate. You felt devastated for Yoojin and felt bad for Jimin because even if he didn’t show it, he lost a friend that night. So many suffering and what for? Money? Power? Fame? Was it really worth it when you could lose everything with a blink of an eye?
No, it wasn’t worth it.
Too lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that you were no longer alone. You didn’t notice the fond smile on Jimin’s face when his eyes fell on your body - you were on his bed, lying on your stomach with your feet in the air. Without making any noise he approached the bed; he got by your side, his fingers trailing from your back to your nape.
"Hi there." He whispered and leaned to kiss your exposed shoulder. "I missed you."
You jolted at his voice. Damn you and your deep thoughts. You leaned into his touch with a smile. "You saw me this morning."
Jimin chuckled against your shoulder before biting it playfully. "And so? I kept thinking about you."
How could you resist him? You pushed him so he was splayed on the bed. Eagerly, you straddled his thighs, hands resting on his chest. It was nice to be in charge and on top of him. Jimin didn’t mind either, his hands found your hips and rested there. Your mind, however decided not to enjoy fully this moment - Yoojin’s voice echoed in your mind which caused a frown on your face.
"What’s bothering you?" It was almost disturbing how Jimin noticed all the changes in you wether you tried to hide it or not.
You contemplated the idea of telling him the truth but you were worried. What if he didn’t want you to get involved? You chose not to say a word, instead you rolled to his side and rested beside him, admiring silently his all too handsome face.
"Y/N?"
Fuck. You wanted to tell him.
"You know you can tell me anything?"
"Can I?"
"Yes."
You bit your lips before giving in. "I know your story with Yoojin."
"Ah." Jimin closed his eyes, took a deep breath before looking back at you. "My biggest regret."
By the sound of his voice, you believed him.
You pulled Jimin in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around him.
"I never wanted her to work for me. Not like that."
"Why didn’t you stop her?"
"I wanted to. But every time I saw her, I couldn’t speak."
Oh Jimin.
"Maybe it’s time you two have a talk?" No matter how hard it might be.
Jimin looked at you, chuckling. "I’m not very good at it."
"You can always try."
Two days later on your way to Yoojin’s room you were met with a rather unexpected but very pleasant view. Jimin was at Yoojin’s door, looking positively nervous (judging by how hard he was rubbing his neck) and awkward. Yoojin on the other hand was just surprised. For a moment she didn’t speak; too confused. But then, she regained her composure, crossed her arms over her chest and looked sternly at Jimin.
"What are you doing here?" You were sure Yoojin wanted to sound as annoyed as possible - she failed as her voice cracked. Someone was obviously just as nervous.
Eavesdropping was bad. Except you couldn’t stop yourself.
"You, missy, deserve some serious spanking." A husky and dark voice reached your ear, taking you off guard. Luckily for you, Taehyung expected this reaction; he clasped a hand on your mouth to prevent you from screaming.
Kim Damn Taehyung. Always there when you didn’t need him. Though you didn’t mind.
He let go of you. "Don’t you think it was about time?
Your first reaction was to punch playfully his arm for scaring you (to what he pretended being hurt) and then you nodded.
It was indeed about time.
**
There were some simple yet very nice moments with Jimin that you came to enjoy particularly. You loved, of course, your hot and quite steamy moments together but you adored some sweet moments more. Such as taking a hot bath together.
Jimin had prepared everything for you. The water was pink with foam covering almost the whole surface with candles all around the bathtub. 
You sat in the bathtub facing each other. You playing with the foam around you like a child while Jimin was relaxing and watching you with a fond smile on his face. You looked happy and he realized it made him happy too.
"A penny for your thoughts?" You blew some foam towards him which he did not see coming. "Oh." You laughed at his face, the tip of his nose was now covered with foam. "It suits you."
Jimin tried to look very offended but the glint in his eyes was too obvious. "How dare you making fun of your boyfriend?"
You melted at his words. Of course you were aware that you meant something to Jimin, something more than a girl who worked for him, something more than a friend with benefits. Hearing him confirm your hopes made you realize just how much and how easily you got attached to him. You couldn’t pretend that you knew Jimin. No, you knew only what he was willing to show you, but it was more than enough to feel something strong for him.
"Sorry, but it’s just too tempting." You smiled sheepishly, hand reaching for his face. Jimin, however, grabbed it before you could touch it.
Jimin didn’t say a word and not so long ago you would have freaked out at his silence. But not anymore. Not when his eyes got soft every single time he laid them on you. Not when he did his best to keep his temper in check. Not when he did his best not to scare you.
Jimin pulled your hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss.
So soft.
Jimin was going for your heart. Your voice got stuck in your throat, all you managed to do was to look at him.
"Stop it." You whispered, heart pounding hard against your ribs. Jimin only quirked a brow at you, clearly amused. "I hate it."
"And what do you hate?" He hummed against the palm of your hand. His warm breath caressing your skin.
God, you were going to combust.
"I’m going to melt."
"Oh. Would it be that bad?"
"Yes. I feel like I can say yes to anything."
Jimin let go of your hand only to gently grab your ankle and start massaging it.
"Oh fuck." You closed your eyes, head thrown back, you were a goner.
"You were saying?" He chuckled darkly
You had absolutely nothing to say, your mind turned blank. The only thing you could think about was his fingers on your skin. This felt like heaven.
"I’ve been wondering." Jimin started, his gaze on you, intense, hungry but with a hint of fear too. "Do you miss your friends?"
**
You never considered yourself as a clingy person, but apparently being with Jimin forced you to learn more about yourself. Which, all in all, wasn’t such a bad thing. You learnt that one you became addicted to (his) hugs. Two, you adored all the attention he gave you. Three, you were a sucker for some good old fashioned way romance in which Jimin was rather good.
Today however, you found yourself being particularly sulky and clingy. It was eight in the morning, you were still in bed but sitting and gawking at a very concentrated and almost dressed Jimin. He was getting ready to leave; you didn’t know where or for how long, he didn’t share and you didn’t blame him for it. But it didn’t mean you couldn’t get pouty and not show him that he was going to be missed. 
Terribly.
"Jimin." You called for him. He stopped and looked at you through the mirror. Wrong move. 
Jimin wasn’t concentrated because he had to get ready as fast as he could. No, Jimin was trying his best not to look at you, naked on his bed, looking like a sin, so tempting - he was scared not being able to leave you.
He tried averting his eyes from your face but you made it hard for him; you bit on your lips and moved closer to the edge of the bed, pushing the sheets completely from you, exposing your body. Jimin had to hurry up for his own sake. But you were far from being done with him.
While Jimin got back to his business, refusing to look any longer at you, you left the bed, silently. And because he wasn’t looking at you, you got behind him. Before he could button shirt you, you put your hands on his chest, feeling him tense under your touch. Your head pressed to his back, you smirked to yourself.
Jimin shut his eyes tightly, you were such a temptress. It took him all his willpower to resist and not simply throw you on the bed and fuck you senselessly for being such a tease. 
Sensing his intern battle, you chose to push all his buttons by pressing yourself harder against him, breasts rubbing softly against his back. Jimin groaned in response, hands curled into a fist.
"Y/N." He tried to sound annoyed and threatening but it didn’t faze you. At all. "Stop."
You, of course, didn’t. Your hands trailed over his chest and down to his pants. You moved from behind him to face him instead, smiling as innocently as you could at him while your hands gripped tightly his belt.
"Do you really have to leave?" You asked despite the fact that you already knew the answer.
Jimin opened his eyes and looked right into your eyes. He was desperate and hungry for you which only encouraged you to torture him some more. Without breaking the eye-contact you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants.
"Fuck." Jimin grabbed both of your hands as if to stop you. You only chuckled at his attempt to resist you, to stop you. "Y/N." His voice almost cracked. "You need to stop."
"Make me." You dared him.
Jimin growled at you but as you predicted he didn’t stop you. You winked playfully, satisfied with the outcome. Swiftly, you pulled at his pants and boxer freeing his hardening cock. It was just too easy to turn him on. You wrapped your fingers around his cock, giving him few pumps before looking back at him. "I just want you to remember what you’re going to miss."
"Y/N-" Jimin wanted to explain, to defend himself but his voice got stuck in his throat as you sank on your knees.
"Aren’t you going to miss me, Jimin?" You asked all sweetly. You slowly jerked him off, making sure he would know who was in control. 
"Aren’t you going to miss my lips?" You kissed his shaft, a gentle brush of your lips that earns you a jerk of his hips and a gasp. "Tell me, Jimin," you gave it another kiss, "Won’t you miss my tongue?" Your tongue moved up and down his shaft, teasing him. "Will you?"
God, Jimin couldn’t believe you had managed to control him so easily. He was hypnotized, eyes following your every move, following how your tongue slid over his cock. The sight alone had him groaning. 
"Please Y/N." Jimin didn’t hesitate to beg. He had lost this battle (not like he had really tried to fight) and now all that mattered was for him to feel your warm mouth around his throbbing cock.
Pleased you guided his cock inside your mouth, swallowing him whole. Jimin let out a long moan as he felt your warmth and wetness around him. His hand found your head, grabbing a fist of your hair.
"Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good." Jimin couldn’t keep his eyes from you.
You moaned around his cock before starting to work your mouth. Jimin’s grip on your hair tightened; it stung but you relished in the feeling, proud of how you made him feel. You and not someone else.
You brought his cock out, licked the tip, swirling your tongue around it, you watched his face filled with pleasure. "Remember, this is mine."
There was absolutely no point in saying so, nor did you know till that day you wanted to own him. But you did and you had him all for yourself.
"Yours." Jimin approved.
*** 
"How come every time you’re bored I find you in my office?" Jack half complained as he got inside his office after a long and quite exhausting meeting. Truth to be told, Jack wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see you, he knew that with Jimin away it would be only a question of time before you would knock at his door and bring him trouble.
"Because you’re the only one who can find me something to do." You explained
Jack took his rightful place, crossed his legs with his hands on his thighs, he looked at you. "Am I supposed to feel flattered?" 
You chuckled at that. "Of course not. But come on! Jimin is away. Taehyung is god know where too. I can’t just sit and do nothing."
"Go out with Yoojin."
You scowled at that. Crossing your arms over your chest, you sank deeper in your chair. "She’s out too."
Jack groaned, the information finally dawning on him. "Basically I’m left baby-sitting you."
"If you want to put it that way, yes."
Jack ruffled his hair in frustration. What was Jimin thinking was beyond him. If he cared (Jack couldn’t bring himself to say ‘loved’) so much for you, he should have told you to go back to your life and just date. But no, he kept you hidden and thus giving more work to Jack.
"I’m sorry Y/N, but I have nothing for you."
You did expect this answer. "God. I hate it.
"Did you tell Jimin about it?"
His question took you off guard. You stared at him, face blank. "I take it as a no."
You sighed. "No. I did mention to him that I feel lonely sometimes. He understands and I think he does want to do something about it. But," you chuckled bitterly, "I don’t think he trusts me enough to let me go back."
Clever girl, Jack thought. "Give him time, if you want him."
You nodded.
"As for now, be careful. Not everybody approve of your relationship."
Jack gave you a wise and precious advice. You should have listened, just like you should have listened to Jimin when he had asked you to move in with him.
Did you listen? No. You regretted it deeply the moment you noticed, on your way back to your room, a guys was following you. At first, you didn’t think much about it; it wouldn’t be the first time. Except with this man, the uneasy feeling grew with every step you took. 
Your room was just around the corner, you were so close, almost safe (if you could be with Jimin away) but before your hand could reach the knob, a hand clapped over your mouth to muffle your scream. Another hand gripped your hip, tightly, so tightly you were scared it would bruise later.
Fuck. You were in trouble.
"Found ya." The man whispered to your ear which provoke a shiver, fear and disgust.
You hated his touch, his voice and how weak you felt.
"Now be a good girl. Open this door for me and don’t you dare screaming."
It was tempting, so tempting and the man felt it - he grabbed a fist of your hair and yanked hard. "Don’t you dare."
You had no other choice but follow his command. You pushed the door and let him inside your room. He let go of you, slammed the door before his eyes found yours. You put some more space between you for good measure but your fear only amused him more. 
"I really don’t understand what he sees in you." He stated, eyes roaming through your body. "You’re just another bitch, like Suah."
Being compared to Suah was not only offending but hurtful too. You hated it and almost spat at him. The nerve.
"So how about you show me what’s so special about you." He pounced on you so fast you couldn’t dodge him on time. He got you pinned on the bed, looking helpless, terrified and shocked. "What’s so special about this cunt."
As he moved his hand from your knee to your center, you jolted. There was no way you could let him touch you without a fight. So you fought as hard as you could, kicking him, punching him. You didn’t stop, not even when he slapped you hard enough to bruise.
"You bitch." He slapped you a second time.
You could think of only two things: how to get this shit away from you and Jimin. You shut your eyes tightly, you refused to cry or to beg.
And then, your heart leapt to your throat at a loud bang that echoed in your room followed by this man’s scream. He rolled to the side, moaning in pain and holding his thigh. You didn’t hesitate, despite the shock, to jump of your bed, wanting to get as far as possible from this shit.
"Y/N." A hand on your back startled you - you shrieked and tried to take a step back. You couldn’t. "It’s me."
Jimin.
Jimin was back.
He had saved you.
You jumped in his arms; arms tightly wrapped around his neck you started crying. He was real, you could feel his heart pounding crazily against his ribs.
"Shh, I’m here." He whispered, his hand gently stroking your hair.
Jimin was furious. Bloody furious. The only thing that prevented him from shooting the man on the bed was your trembling body against his.
"I’m going to kill him." Jimin growled as his eyes traveled from your shivering body to the man who was trying to leave the bed. JImin felt his blood boil, anger rushing through his veins, he saw red. He needed to kill him.
"No." You swallowed your fear, forcing your body to stop shaking like a leaf. Jimin was back, you had no more reason to be scared. No matter how shocked you were, you refused to let Jimin kill someone because of you. Even when the said person was a piece of garbage who deserved death.
"Don’t kill him."
Jimin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. "You can’t be serious. He was ready to rape you."
"And for that he got a nice bullet in his thigh."
"It’s not enough!"
"It is for me." Your eyes grew more serious, darker; Jimin needed to understand that even if you did your best to understand his world, you weren’t like them. 
Jimin’s face twisted in both pain and anger - you took his hand and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze.
"Do i want to know what happened in there?" Taehyung’s voice interrupted your moment. He eyed the two of you curiously, then, frowned as he noticed a red, nasty mark on your face and finally his eyes fell on the garbage. "Do I need to kill someone?"
You groaned and palmed your face at that. Jimin laughed which earns him a nasty glare from you. "Don’t even think about it."
"Ha." Taehyung scoffed and chose to ignore you.
When did Kim Taehyung listen to orders?
Jimin glanced at his friend, a silent conversation was going on and you had a bad feeling about it.
Taehyung approached the man, whistling, making it look as if nothing had happened. It was creamy and got you goosebumps. 
"Not being so smooth now huh." Taehyung’s smile was terrifying. 
Apparently, the asshole seemed to feel this way too. "Please, don’ skill me. I’m so sorry."
Taehyung didn’t answer, his smile only grew wider before he grabbed the man’s ankle, making him scream in pain by doing so. 
"See you later guys." Was the last thing Taehyung said before slowly and while still whistling he dragged the man, leaving blood stains on the floor.
You would never be able to sleep in this room again.
"Y/N." Jimin called for you, his voice more controlled. "Pack your things."
You did not complain.
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marvelsdc22 · 3 years
Text
The Professor And I Season 2 Christmas Special
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Intro: Hello, lovelies!! I hope you guys are having a good day/night and that this week is treating you all well!! Here’s a special one for you guys, this series holds a spot close to my heart, so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!!
Note: Y/N is trying hard to get back to life, but after everything that has happened, they find it difficult to do so, it’s a good thing Lena’s around to help them through this difficult time.
Word Count: 1652
Season 1 Christmas Special S1 Season 2
Its been about a month now since the funeral for your father, you were slowly getting used to your new arm that Lena had helped build for you, some days were better than others, you would get irritated and fight with anyone who would try to tell you otherwise, not only were you not able to have much use with your arm, but your best friend was locked away in a place called the D.E.O. where you couldn’t go since you didn’t have the right clearance, but it was the only way for her to learn how to control her newfound powers, having almost killed you and Alex with them when you guys got into it, to say you were stressed was an understatement.
“Babe, I know it’s hard but-“ Lena tried, getting cut off by your groan of frustration as you struggled to move the fingers on your new robotic arm “Don’t act like you know how this feels! I don’t see you trying to learn to use an arm after losing your own!” You snapped, glaring at her and your features softening when you saw her wince at your tone and avert her gaze “I’m sorry” you apologized, knowing your snapping wasn’t helping anything and looking at the robotic arm, trying to move it again but failing, sweat trailing down your face from trying so hard since this required a lot of strenuous activity “It’s okay… Why don’t you take a break?” She suggested, carefully taking the arm off you so you could rest.
After she set it down on the coffee table of your guys shared apartment, she went over to you and gently cupped your cheeks “I love you, I am so proud of you” she said, looking at you and you bit your lip as you reached up with your right hand and rested it on hers “I love you too… I’m sorry you have to go through this” you apologized, knowing this was no easy task for her either “It’s worth it for you… Why don’t you go shower? Your mom is expecting us bright and early in the morning, so you won’t have time in the morning” she said, looking at you and pressing a small kiss to your lips before she pulled back, stopping when you took her hand “Join me?” You asked, just wanting her there with you since you guys had lost a lot of time together this past semester “Of course” she smiled, leading you into the bathroom.
Once your shower was over, the two of you cooked some dinner, you doing what you could with one arm before you guys cuddled up in bed for the night after dinner “I’m glad we got this place” you said, you guys having went through with your plans to move in together at semester break, having found a great place not too far from the school, but far enough to not raise any suspicion “Me too, it’s nice” Lena said, this being the closest she had ever been to someone and reaching over, gently wrapping her arms around you and pulling you to her, smiling when you nuzzled against her chest as you got comfortable and feeling her kiss your head “Get some sleep, it’s going to be a busy day” she said softly, gently rubbing your back as the two of you fell into comfortable silence.
A few hours later, you woke up with a gasp and sat up quickly, running your hands over your now sweaty face and through your hair that was still wet from the shower “Hey hey hey” Lena whispered, having woken up when you jostled the bed, turning on the lamp on her side before she rested her hand on her back “It’s okay, you’re safe, you’re with me” she said softly, hating seeing you like this, you having nightmares almost every night since you saw your father die “It’s my fault, I should’ve gotten there sooner, I should’ve-“ you rambled, starting to hyperventilate until you felt Lena gently grip your wrists before she moved to sit in front of you “It is not your fault, your father knows this” she promised, looking at your tear-stained face as you locked eyes with her, your breathing slowing down as it went back to normal “Your father loved you and he is watching you from wherever he is, he is so damn proud of you and he wouldn’t want you blaming yourself” she said, looking at you and watching as you let out a sob before you hugged her tightly “I miss him” you cried, feeling Lena tighten her grip on you “I know, baby… I know”.
The next morning, Lena drove the two of you to your mother’s house, being sure to get you your favorite Starbucks drink before you both settled in for the two hour drive, her hand never leaving your leg unless she needed to shift the gear, her driving a manual which she had tried to teach you to drive before, but that was on hold for now until you got used to your new arm which you guys had in the back so you could practice, the two of you going to stay at your mother’s for the week “Do you feel warm enough?” She asked as she stopped at a stoplight “Yeah…” You said softly, the closer you got to your mothers, the harder it was to keep your baring, so you tried not to say much.
When you guys got there and your mother opened the door, the two of you stared at one another for a moment before you hugged each other tightly, you trying really hard to be strong for her as you felt your mother let out a sob “It’s okay, he’s in a better place” you whispered, rubbing her back some as you let her cry into your shoulder, pulling back after a moment and giving her the best smile you could muster before she went and hugged Lena “Come on in, it’s too cold to be standing out there!” Your mother said, wiping her tears and giving you guys a smile before she let you both in.
“When do the others arrive?” You asked, knowing you guys would have a full house for the week since your family didn’t want your mother alone at all during these holidays “Your cousins Sarah and Jesse should be here in an hour, the others will arrive tomorrow” she said, looking at you and gesturing for you to go “Go on and get settled in your room, I’ll be in here when you get all settled” she said, giving you guys a smile before you helped Lena carry the bags into your old room “Mommmm” You whined when you saw she had put your old sheets on, the ones with One Direction on them and hearing Lena let out a chuckle “What? It’s cute” she chuckled, kissing your frown before she set the bag in her hands on the bed.
Over the course of the next few days, you guys were busy with getting last minute Christmas shopping done and decorating, to you just trying to use your new arm, the next thing you knew, it was Christmas day and your mom was cooking in the kitchen with your aunt Shelia and your grandma Betty while your younger cousins were running around in the living room, playing with their new toys “Come with me?” Lena asked, taking the coffee mug in your hand and setting it on a nearby table, leading you to the back porch after you pulled your shoes and large coat on since it had snowed overnight “Lena, it’s cold” you whined, following her as she chuckled, just leading you over to the lake right behind the house “This won’t take long, promise” she said, turning to you and giving you a small smile.
You raised an eyebrow when you saw her sudden nervous composure “Okay…” She finally said, clearing her throat as she pulled a small box out of her pocket “Lena-“ It’s not that! Not yet anyway” she assured you, having seen the panic on your face until she opened the box in her hands “This is something before that… A promise ring, I’m promising myself to you… No one has ever made me feel the way you do and if you’ll have me, I want to use this to show my commitment to you” Lena said, knowing that had been the big issue with the two of you over the semester and she wanted to make it known that you were hers and she was yours.
Staring at the ring, you couldn’t help but start to chuckle, making Lena furrow her brow “I’m sorry, I-“ she apologized, stopping when she saw you pull something out of your pocket “Ironic, we had the same idea” you said, struggling for a moment to open the box until it finally opened, a small promise ring inside it, you watching as Lena stared at it before she smiled and took it out of the box “Put it on me?” She asked, handing the ring to you before holding her right hand out and letting you slip it onto her ring finger, before she did the same with yours “No more questioning us… I’m one hundred percent committed to you” she said, resting her forehead on yours as you smiled “As am I” you said, leaning up on your tip toes and kissing her gently “Can we go inside now? My toes are freezing” you said, causing her to laugh before she pocketed both boxes and picked you up bridal style “Of course, as you wish” she said, giving you a smile before carrying you into the house, while this Christmas was sad, Lena always knew how to make you smile and one day, she would be yours… Forever.
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End Note: I hope you guys enjoyed it!! If you would like to be added to a Taglist, shoot me a DM or an Ask!! Have a great holiday week and have a good day/night!!
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