#dior forever and ever
My Top Five Favourite Concealers 2021 🖤
My Top Five Favourite Concealers 2021 🖤
Every so often I love to share my top five favourite concealers with you as they do change from year to year! So here is my updated video for you all.
I always look for something lightweight, a great colour match and something that will not crease under the eyes. I avoid under eye creasing by using a little eye cream trick you can see here.
DIOR Forever Skin Correct – creamy…
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Untitled #1112 by douxlaur featuring Herbivore ❤ liked on Polyvore
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Chapter One : The Engagement
Rating : 18+
Genre : Lovers to exes , strangers to friends
Warnings : Cheating, Heavy Angst, A little but of desperation, Breakdowns and some fluff.
Summary : You were happily in love with one of the most cute guy ever and it was all a bliss, three years to calling the cutest man, Jungkook your man until one day he casually breaks up with you and leaves you hanging. Just like that!!It's only a month you are invited to a engagement ceremony of Jeon Jungkook. One thing is you're sure of you're done being a sob story for him until someone walks in your life reading you like an open book just like that!!!
You hurriedly fixed your dress and makeup one last time before you head out to the waiting area of your mansion to attend the most talked about engagement of the Most eligible bachelor Jeon Jungkook
Jungkook your boyfriend of 3 years had suddenly decided to throw you out of his life without even giving a proper explaination forget even apologizing for breaking your heart in a billion pieces. You had no idea what actually happened that he had to break you so bad, but just after one month of your breakup the engagement was announced.
He was engaged to a daughter of a business family, and it seemed like a more of a business collaboration under the wrap of a marriage alliance, apparently a bond to strengthen the relationships between Jeons and said family . Strengthening the relationship!! You scoffed as taehyung bought you a flute of champagne.
You had made sure that you won't put up a sad show for anyone, you would be as normal as possible because you never wanted that brat to feed off your pain. If at all, you had given him the love he didn't deserve, now you were not about to give him your grief he didn't deserve it either.
You made sure you did the special efforts to look good today, wearing a beautiful wine red Dior gown which was totally backless with a thigh slit. The dress screamed sexy and you made sure to look the part. The dress hugged your curves so perfect, it made you gasp at the way you looked.
You walked with your friends in the hall to the event and started to just talk with your friends when the arrival of the couple was announced. They walked down and looked like a king and a queen descending down. For sure he did what he did because he looked like a million dollars with a suit and shirt that hugged his chest and made it glimmer in the lights.
His fiancee looked nothing sort of a goddess in white and yeah they did compliment each other really well and they looked like they were sculpted from the same stone. Jimin clasped tight at your hand as they came down and you just tapped his hand gesturing you were more than okay, but besides for the fact that you were screaming inside, banging the walls of your mind to let all that angst, frustration out that you were keeping inside you.
They walked to the centre of the hall hand in hand making sure the diamond was seen throughout. Jungkook made his way towards your group and you had almost felt your best friend tense up, His friends were a delight to have around and around the years they had become very good friends of yours too. Yoongi placed a hand at small of your back and whispered "We can go out for bit if you want" concern was very evident in his eyes, but you just pressed the palm of his hands and signed you were fine.
He introduced everyone one by one, eyes lingering on you for two seconds more. It took everything in you to not breakdown when you shook hands with his fiancee. You were not mad about the fact that he didn't choose you, neither the fact that she was anything above you. You were a established and a very well to do jewelery designer from a very affluent family. Forever wasn't the scene with jungkook yet, It was something about throwing away everything you had in a glance without even a proper explaination, rather he didn't bother to give one.
You chatted with everyone while jungkook eyed cautiously once or twice, but you didn't bother looking at him. Jin was the last one to arrive he joined the chat and low key whistled when he saw you. Mia how many people do you plan to drop dead tonight? He asked looking at you awestruck. As many as you plan to pick up jin you said giving him a side hug. You could practically feel jungkook glaring your back.
You had a few more drinks whole you shared a dance occasionally with yoongi, tae and Jin. The night was moving pretty slow and mostly it went about laughing and laughing since the guys had made it a point to keep you diverted from jungkook and you prayed to every force in the heaven for giving such friends. They were the best.
You heard your father call you from the back and you walked over to him with taehyung hooked to your arm for the night. He made sure he never left your side, You walked to your father as he spoke to someone, well someone really tall and broad.
And that's my beautiful angel Mia, Mia this is Kim Namjoon. Son of my very old and dear friend. You came face to face with the person in question and you gasp for a moment. He was nothing short of a sin in disguise with that all black suit, dark frames and a diamond on the earlobe as he shook your hand.
He shook your hand politely, and before you knew he placed a light kiss on the back of your hand. The man really had some manners. Care for a dance pretty lady? he asked a hand etched forward in your direction. You placed your hand in his and walked with him to the dance floor.
So, how are you doing today? He asked looking at you like he already knew the answer. Well if hurting over a boyfriend who dumped my ass without even a logical explaination then absolutely amazing you replied dryly. "Well if anything jungkook is the one taking a loss here, I don't see any reason why you should be upset." He said. You almost choked on your words, you didn't mention jungkook yet how did he know? How?? Was all you could manage before pulled you more close to him. "Well I am just good at reading people and besides you are throwing him a little bit of more glances my lady! You cursed at how obvious you could have been.
Is it that obvious? you whisper in his ears, and he chuckles before holding your waist even tighter. Don't worry, you're doing a wonderful job at keeping that emotion turbulence in check. Holy shit. Now this man was total something else considering how well he was reading into you.
Are you a face reader or something Mr.Kim? You asked amused at how well he was at reading what was in your mind. Well for starters it's Namjoon for you and no I'm not a face reader I'm a partner for new project that your father, jungkook and I will be partnering on.
This partnership was the reason that you had to attend this event Apart from being childhood friends with jungkook and also an ex that nobody else knew of apart from the close knit friends of your group. You danced some more with Namjoon and excused yourself to get some fresh air. This night was really getting to you.
You moved to the balcony and stood in the centre letting the wind play eith your hair and face soothing the burning emotions within you at this very minute. It wasn't even five minutes in your tranquility when you heard some giggling sounds from below.
It didn't bother you because it could have been any couple in the party seeking some fresh air to a makeout with a view, until you heard the very name you weren't supposed to hear!! Jungkook!
You peeked down curiosity getting the best of you, it was right below you where jungkook and Layla were making out, Layla giggling in jungkooks chest "jungkook stop, this is our party someone might see us. She was giggling like a teenager, "I don't care darling, Cant I kiss my wife? He replied leaving kisses by her mouth.
Something right at that moment stuck you, it wouldn't have been possible to get so close to someone to act all handsy like teenagers and besides they just seemed to comfortable around each other. You shuddered at the possibility, was jungkook seeing this woman even before you broke up? Was this alliance fixed even before he threw you out of his life?
Thoughts swarmed your mind and your head felt dizzy, all the turmoil all the bottled up emotions you had in you came tumbling out, and you rushed to the nearest powder room, you closed the door behind you and sat down on the floor, you emotions had got the best of you and now you needed to let it out before acting out. You pushed your hanky in your mouth and cried and cried and cried.
It took you almost thirty minutes to get a hold on yourself and compose yourself. You checked your makeup, thanks to the high end brands you didn't look much out of the place. You fixed yourself and walked out looking like a normal trip to powder room when you saw namjoon leaning outside.
What are you doing her--even before you could complete the sentence he pulled you in for a hug and placed a hand on back of your head and whispered, Are you Okay Mia? Just know this will pass and you deserve the world at your feet don't let someone tell you otherwise. He hugged you like a delicate being and that sentence was something that bought some comfort as you pressed your head in his chest.
You found your friends sitting by a table and waving at you, ofcourse with the lovebirds with them chatting away. You pulled Namjoon along with you and sat yourself besides Tae who gave you a mischievous look and you mouthed a nothing at him.
So Layla how did you guys meet? You asked curiosity getting better of you, you needed the answer to the question and you sensed a uncomfortable shift among your friends. "We met 6 months ago and we casually started going around until our families decided I was better off with kook forever. She blushed and jungkook kissed her palm lovingly. So you were right he was actually cheating on you.
You didn't let it show and continue the conversation with the other group casually and you noticed jungkook stealing glances at you time and again. You did not let it bother you in the least. There was no way he was going to see the loss in your eyes.
Thankfully the end of the night approached and you and the others were walking towards the car, what felt like a million light years later. You deserved an award for not letting the emotions get the better of you tonight and you had your friends to thank for that.
Just as you were leaving, Namjoon grabbed your hands nervously and called you, which made everybody else stop in their tracks and look back including Jungkook and Layla. "Mia, Its been nothing short of amazing meeting you and I would be delighted if you joined me for lunch tomorrow?
You were certainly not expecting this, and besides namjoon had been incredibly supportive to you, so out of that kind gesture you said yes earning a hoot from everyone. "Well your father and I will be working from the Jeon Corp tomorrow so let me plan a nice lunch there or pick a place? He asked hand running his back of the head. "Okay you said giving him a side hug which actually made him loose his balance a little bit and making you giggle.
So it's a date date right? Oh my God you guys would make an amazing couple, I'm already shipping you guys Layla said sincerity totally evident in her voice. Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably which made yoongi, tae and jin give him a stern expression.
Namjoon blushed at her comment and opened the door for you, You did not have the right mind to think anything as of now, as the pain the anger and the helplessness came rushing back to you the moment you entered the car when no one was watching. You were tired. Tired of the fact that Jungkook didn't give a damn about you, tired of thinking that you or your relationship didn't mean a damn to him. Tired of the fact that it was cruel of him to cheat on you. You were tired of pretending that you didn't give a damn but in reality you were broken from inside.
Just the darkness and silence felt right at this moment.
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Warnings: Possessive behavior, obsessive behavior. Mention of murder, manipulation, gaslighting. Mentions of past drug abuse, mentions of death resulting in drug abuse (minor character). The behavior and actions in this story in real life, as is this relationship. I do not condone any of it. This is purely fictional, and for story telling purposes.
Summary: Thinking things through was never a skill of yours. You preferred to act now and regret later. So it only made sense that you would marry Jungkook three days after meeting him. It only made sense that he would break your heart the morning after.
A/N: This is an official installment in my rich brothers au! I know you guys have been waiting for it, and I want to apologize for it taking so long. I had to take a mental health break. Hopefully, this makes up for the wait. I hope you all enjoy it!
Your old therapist had warned you once, about an addictive personality. As much as you wanted to roll your eyes and tell her to fuck off, you knew it to be true. You took special care in avoiding alcohol and drugs, lest you end up like your older brother. Addiction ran in your family. Your parents, their parents, and their parents' parents had all spent some time in rehab facilities. Your older brother spent his time in a grave. You knew better than to try your luck, but there were times your addictive tendencies took control.
You were often called an adrenaline junkie. Your parents rarely said it with any affection, though when your cousin Red called you such she did so with a loving smile. Maybe that was why you wanted so badly to live with her. Or maybe it was just because she offered.
You were an impossibly impulsive person. Forethought was something you rarely had. If someone asked you to do something, your likelihood to say yes increased with the risk of it. Immigrating to another country was a major decision, one that took careful planning and years of decision making. So it only made sense that you would say yes the moment Red asked. You had applied for residency that night, all without thinking to consult anyone in your life. Before it had even gotten approved, Red had gone and married a man that she barely knew. Your entire family exploded at the news of the wedding, furious that she would do such a thing having only known the man for two weeks. They attended the wedding with sour expressions. You were the only member of your family to dance at the reception. All of your relatives sat around their tables, whispering to each other with scandalized voices.
Who knew Red was such a gold digging whore? You remembered your mom whispering to your aunt. Not even Red’s parents could pretend to be happy. They just hummed along to the insults thrown towards their daughter, obviously in full agreement. It was no wonder Red only spoke to you on a regular basis.
Still, you couldn’t stand to be outdone. You had made it your life’s mission to be the black sheep of the family. Tattoos, piercings, dyed hair. Your hobbies were the most reckless activities you could think of, and the only reason you got good grades was so you could get as far away from them as possible. Maybe, underneath all of your impulsive abandon, that was the real reason you wanted to move to Korea. Get away from your parents' judgmental eye, which only grew all the more critical after your brother's death.
It was your impulsiveness alone that was to blame for your own marriage, however. You had been in the country permanently for less than a week. It had been several months since Red’s wedding, and while you couldn’t deny how nervous she seemed at her wedding, you couldn’t remember a time you had ever seen your cousin look happier. Jin and her just worked together, the living embodiment of domestic bliss. Despite their assurance that they were more than happy to have you, you couldn’t help but feel like an intruder. You couldn’t wait to move into your university dorm as the upcoming semester grew closer.
Jungkook spent a lot of time at their house, as well. He seemed to be at ease there, as though he belonged. You knew he had his own apartment, yet he never seemed to be there. This was your second time meeting with Jungkook. The first had been at the wedding. Jungkook had a date - a beautiful girl who seemed far more interested in one of his brothers than him. In the end, it was alright because Jungkook seemed far more interested in you than her. You had spent the entire night talking, sneaking out of the reception early to walk the gardens under the glow of the moonlight. He was beautiful. The type of beauty that seemed so far out of reach. You felt as though you were laughing with a statue, a mythological Adonis made of impenetrable marble. Who could blame you for spending the months back in America thinking of him? Who could blame you for saying yes to his marriage proposal only three days into being in Korea?
Your father would always tell you that one day you would learn your lesson. One day you would throw yourself into a situation that you couldn’t claw your way out of. One day you would get hurt in an irreparable way. You would always scoff and roll your eyes. You had the naivety of a child - you thought you would live forever, existing unscathed till the end of time. Upon learning the news that Jungkook was engaged to another woman, you understood the truth to his statements.
“Oh hi!” You said, opening the front door to reveal the same beautiful girl from all those months ago. Her beauty was the same kind as Jungkook’s - out of reach and impenetrable. It was almost painful, looking at her. “Dior, right?”
“Yeah,” She said with a gracious smile. Everything about her seemed calculated - from the expensive clothes she wore to the expression on her face. Still, you got the sense that all this planning was not by her choice. Children of controlling parents recognized their own, and you couldn’t help but feel pity at the sight of someone who had fallen victim to something you had worked your entire life to escape. “I think we met at Red’s wedding. You’re her cousin - Y/N?”
“Yeah, but you can call me Dizzy. Everyone does,” You said with a shrug. “Uh, what can I do for you?”
“I’m here to collect Jungkook,” She said as her gracious smile stiffened. You frowned. Jungkook was laying in your bed, naked and asleep. You had consummated your marriage as the sun rose, after running off to a nearby church in the middle of the night. ‘Paperwork can wait till tomorrow’ Jungkook had said. “I went by his apartment, but he wasn’t there so I figured he would be here.”
“Why do you need him?” You asked, struggling to replace your frown with a smile. You were sure it looked as stiff as Dior’s did, and you didn’t have an ounce of the charm required to pull it off the way she did.
“Well, according to my mother there are some important wedding details we need to work out and she wanted him there,” Dior said. She had the face of a doll - impossibly beautiful yet lifeless. Her eyes, however, held a profound sadness. She was as discontent as you assumed the porcelain doll you had as a child to be.
“Wedding?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach began to twist into knots.
“Yeah,” Dior said. “We’re getting married next week.”
The world had stopped spinning. It had fallen off its axis, interrupting its rotation as it floated listlessly through space. That was the only explanation for the feeling that washed over you. You looked at her left hand, eyes focusing on the glittering diamond that adorned it. You were going to be sick.
“Are you alright?” Dior asked. “You look awfully pale.”
You nodded dumbly, unable to find your voice for a moment. You just kept staring at the ring on her finger, and suddenly yours felt impossibly empty. Jungkook had promised to buy you one today. He promised a lot of things, and like a fool you believed him.
“I’ll go get him right now,” You said, cringing at the meekness of your voice. You were not weak. You never shied away from a challenge. Yet, the weight pressing down on your chest was begging you to take a minute. To run away. You wanted to hide under a rock, never to be seen again. You weren’t sure what stung more - the humiliation or the heartbreak. You let an impossibly beautiful man trick you, let him convince you to make an unbreakable oath he clearly had no intention of keeping. What was worse was that you let him lead you into love. Your parents would probably scoff at you, tell you that you were being ridiculous. You hardly knew the man. Yet, the feeling was undeniable. You fell in love just as you did everything else - foolishly, impulsively, and without a second thought. You moved through life with the speed of a bullet, jumping from one thing to the next. Why would this be any different for you?
Before he died, your brother would always joke around and say you would probably end up marrying a stranger in Vegas only to get divorced the next day. You would always laugh, never understanding how true it was.
You turned on your heel, leaving Dior in the doorway as you climbed up the stairs of the house and made your way to your room. Jungkook was still fast asleep, laying in your bed with the blanket thrown haphazardly over his naked form. He looked too peaceful to wake without guilt. That didn’t stop you from throwing a lone shoe at him.
“Get up!” You yelled as Jungkook jumped out of a bed, looking around with wild panicked eyes. “Get the fuck up!”
“Dizzy?” He asked, pressing a hand over his chest. “What the hell?”
“You’re engaged,” You hissed. Jungkook’s eyes widened cartoonishly.
“What?” He asked.
“You’re engaged,” You repeated with no less venom. “Your fiancé is at the door, asking for you. Something about your wedding next week - should I tell her that you got married last night? That you have a fucking wife?”
“Don’t call me that!” You snapped, interrupting him. “Don’t you fucking dare. I told you you could call me that because you were my husband. Because you loved me - you said you loved me.”
You hated the way your voice cracked, your throat feeling thick and clogged. Your hands were trembling by your side, yet another thing you hated. You felt fragile, as if at any second you were about to shatter into a million pieces.
“I do love you!” Jungkook said. “I don’t give a fuck about Dior. I love you.”
“Is that what you told Dior when you asked her to marry her? That you loved her?”
“I never asked her to marry me!” He snapped, before running a shaking hand through his hair.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Our parents arranged our marriage when we were born. I never asked her to marry me.”
“She has a ring, Jungkook,” You said, your glare faltering some. Your mind was reeling, trying to process the information being flung at you. It was too much. This was all too much.
“Yeah, my parents made me give it to her when we turned eighteen. I didn’t want to - fuck, Y/N, she didn’t even want it. She’s in love with Taehyung. She has been since we were children.”
“None of that changes the fact that you’re engaged to her,” You said, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You wanted to scream, or cry, or do both at the same time.
“No, but you do,” Jungkook said, taking a step towards you. You took a step back. He paused, before sighing. “I love you. I loved you the moment I saw you. I knew right then and there that you were supposed to be my wife - not Dior. Dior’s like a sister to me at best, and an acquaintance at worst. I couldn’t even tell you her favorite color.”
“Do you even know mine?” You asked. “Do you even know a single thing about me, or did you just want an excuse to fuck me? Cause if you did, you could have just asked. You didn’t have to play this sick game and trick me into marrying you -”
“I didn’t trick you!” Jungkook yelled. “I didn’t trick you! I asked, and you said yes!”
“I said yes because I didn’t know you had a fucking fiancé!” You screamed.
“You said yes because you love me,” Jungkook said, quieter this time. He said as though he was sure it was a fact, as though there could never be any other option. In the end, maybe there wasn’t. You were a stupid, reckless, foolish girl who gave your heart away far too easily. You didn’t even consider saying no. It would have been like a fairytale - proof that soulmates existed. Proof that even you, intolerable you, could be loved. In the end, you were what your parents always thought you to be, no matter how badly you wanted to prove different. Why would the fate they predicted for you be any different?
You were born to be heartbroken or dead. That was what your mother always said. She had no hopes for you. Not after you had spent your entire life masquerading as a wrecking ball. Not after your brother died. Her world had lost all color when the police called your house at two in the morning to relay the news, and you - born disappointing - certainly were not going to be able to bring it back.
“Just go,” You sighed, losing all will to fight. You were properly defeated.
“Go,” You said once more, your voice firmer this time. You left no room for argument, though Jungkook seemed to have one brewing. He stared at you, a million and one things weighing on his tongue before his shoulders drooped. He quickly got dressed, eyes on you the entire time. You stared at him with an exhausted expression. He never thought he’d see you look so tired. You were a ball of endless, fiery energy. It was what drew him to you to the first place. From the moment he saw you, he could see it. That spark. That life. You were someone worth marrying. He knew that all before he even learned your name.
He wordlessly walked past you. You didn’t even look back as he exited the room. He walked down the stairs and towards the front door, where Dior was standing in wait. She looked beautiful and sad, as she always did.
“What do you want?” He asked rudely as he approached her. Dior sighed.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your hookup,” she said. Jungkook almost felt guilty. She was always so understanding, so patient. He abused that way too often. “My mother needs to go over some wedding details with us. I tried to tell her you didn’t need to be there, but she insisted.”
“I don’t care about our wedding,” He said. She sighed once more.
“I know, but she was adamant you come,” She said. “You know how she is.”
Jungkook did, intimately. Dior’s mother was all too similar to him - someone who had lived life never hearing the word ‘no’. He couldn’t blame Dior for lacking the backbone necessary to stand up to her - her parents never raised her to have a spine at all. She was born to be molded into whatever anyone wanted her to be. He followed her out the front door, shutting it behind him. Her car sat in the driveway, the driver leaning against the side with a bored expression. For as long as Jungkook had known him, the man never once appeared remotely interested in the affairs of his employers. Even as he drove them to Dior’s family estate, he watched the road with disinterested eyes.
“You should have told her you were engaged,” Dior said, breaking the silence between them. It was neither uncomfortable, nor comfortable. It just was.
“What?” Jungkook asked, looking up from his phone and at her with startled eyes.
“Dizzy - she doesn’t seem like the type to fool around with taken men,” Dior said. “I could always tell her I don’t mind. It would probably alleviate some guilt. But still, lying won’t get you anywhere with girls.”
“Lying got you everywhere with Taehyung,” Jungkook said before he could stop himself. Dior’s eyes fell to her lap as she began to twist the engagement ring around her finger. He knew he should have apologized, but saying sorry was something he was never good at.
“It didn’t get me anywhere,” She said softly, before looking back up at him. “I’m still marrying you, aren’t I?”
“Right,” He said, and they fell back into silence.
Perhaps, Jungkook should have been panicking. He had seen the hysteria his brothers fell into at the slightest sign that they would lose the woman they loved. It would have been in character for him to have fallen into a fit of rage by now. Yet, even as he went over wedding plans with a woman who was not and would never be his wife, he felt eerily calm. He couldn’t marry Dior - it was already too late. He was a married man, and he would keep you as his wife until the day he died. He would do anything to ensure that - even ruining the life of the girl he considered a sister.
He called you exactly sixty seven times that day, before inviting Dior over. He sent countless texts swearing that he would fix things, that he wouldn’t allow what you had to be ruined by some silly little rich girl who couldn’t hold his interest long enough for a conversation to move past small talk. You two were special. His love for you was a wildfire, and he would use it to burn down everything around him until all that was left was you. You, of course, didn’t respond once. Though it enraged him to have you ignore him this way, he let it slide. He expected it, honestly. You were a strong willed individual. You wouldn’t submit so easily. It was one of the numerous things he loved about you.
Obviously, he would have to train you. Teach you that his calls and texts were never to be ignored - that he was never to be ignored. It would be an uphill battle, getting you to bend to his will. But Jungkook loved a good challenge, and you were nothing if not challenging. You marrying him was a result of your impulsive nature, nothing more and nothing less. He quickly realized how badly you wanted to piss off your parents - you quite literally told him how jealous you were that Red had so easily outdone you by marrying his eldest brother. He used that to his advantage.
Threatening Dior did not come easy to him, though it may have appeared that way. He cared for her. He really did. But he would do anything for you. Anything to have you. If he had to kill the girl, so be it. Perhaps insulting her the way he did was a bit too far over the line, but she really pissed him off sometimes.
She was just so weak and obedient. She was the complete opposite of you.
It was less than an hour later that someone was banging on his front door. He had foolishly hoped that it would be you. That you had come running, realizing how stupid it was to try and deny what was clearly there. You were made to be his, just as he was made to be yours. Why fight it? Not even you could possibly be strong enough to do so.
When he opened the door, he was met with a fist in his face. He screamed, stumbling back as his hand flew to his eye. He hunched over in pain, squeezing both eyes shut as he tried to force the tears to disappear. After a moment, they did. He looked up, still hunched over, to see an enraged Taehyung standing in his doorway. His chest was heaving, his fists still curled by his side.
“What the fuck, hyung?” Jungkook asked, standing up straight. He couldn’t open his right eye.
“What did you do?” Taehyung asked.
“Don’t make me ask again,” Taehyung said, stepping into the apartment and slamming the door shut behind him. Jungkook stared at him, trying to make himself seem as small and confused as possible. He was the baby of the family. That alone earned him far too much leeway with his brothers. Yet, Taehyung did not falter. Jungkook didn’t know what shocked him more - the fact that his older brother punched him, or the fact that he didn’t seem to regret it at all.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jungkook said after a moment. His face was throbbing. It was becoming difficult to think through the pain.
“Dior broke up with me,” Taehyung said, eyes narrowing even further. Jungkook felt his stomach drop.
“No,” He said. “That’s not . . . she wouldn’t have . . . why the fuck would she do that?”
“You tell me,” Taehyung said. “Everything was fine until she came to visit you. So, I’ll ask again. What did you do?”
It was only then did the severity of Jungkook’s mistakes hit him. In the end, he was all too similar to you. That’s why you were meant to be together; two wrecking balls demolishing everything in their paths. He didn’t mean to take Taehyung down with him. He didn’t mean to burn him in the fire.
“I . . . I told her we couldn’t get married,” Jungkook said after a moment. He was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. “I told her I was going to tell our parents to call off the wedding because she was with you.”
“What? Why would you say that?”
“I thought you would be happy!” Jungkook snapped. “Now she can be all yours!”
“Are you stupid?” Taehyung hissed. “Were you born brain dead, or did eomma drop you on your head as a baby?”
“Dior doesn’t have any other choice but to marry you and you fucking know that! You think if she did, she would have put up with your bullshit all these years? You think she likes dealing with your attitude, or your ridiculous temper? You think she likes having to hide our relationship? That this is all fun and games to her? You know what her parents will do to her if they find out she’s with me. You fucking knew that and you still went ahead and said that! Why? Did you get bored, and needed to find a new game to play with her? Did you want to scare her so you could feel a moment of amusement? You insufferable little shit I swear to God -”
“I said it because I’m already married!” Jungkook cried out, interrupting his brother’s rant. Taehyung froze, eyes widening as his jaw dropped.
“Are you fucking joking?” He asked after a moment. Jungkook shook his head. “To who?”
“Y/N,” He said.
“Red’s cousin?” Taehyung asked. “Jungkook, she's been in the country for less than a week. What the hell are you talking about?”
“I love her, hyung,” Jungkook said. It was difficult for him to be vulnerable. But he needed his brother to understand. To know that he wasn’t just trying to hurt the girl he loved so dearly. “I’ve loved her since the wedding. We spent that entire night together, and I’ve thought about her every fucking minute since then. Then she came back for good and I . . . I couldn’t help myself. She’s even better than I remember. She’s perfect.”
“So you married her?” Taehyung asked, clearly unimpressed.
“Yeah,” Jungkook said. “Yeah, I did. I asked her to marry me last night, and she said yes. So we went to this church, and the priest married us. I was going to make it legal today, but then Dior had to fucking show up and tell her we were engaged. Hyung, she’s so mad at me.”
“No shit,” Taehyung scoffed. Jungkook began to wilt. He never did well when his brothers were upset with him. Besides you, their opinions were the only ones who held any weight with him. They meant everything to him. The fact that his actions had hurt Taehyung so badly - the guilt was going to eat him alive.
“I needed to make things right,” Jungkook said. “Prove to her that I wasn’t just trying to play some sick game, or get her into bed, or whatever the fuck she thinks this is. I needed to prove to her that I was serious. That I love her.”
Taehyung was quiet. He was staring at him, studying him. All the while, his expression was indiscernible. Jungkook had no way of knowing what he was thinking, something that threw him far off kilter. He was so used to knowing his brothers like the back of his hand. Just as Jungkook began to feel really uncomfortable, Taehyung moved past him and into the kitchen. He came back moments later, with an ice pack wrapped in a hand towel. He handed it over. Jungkook took it before gingerly holding it against his eye with an appreciative smile. Taehyung still had that indecipherable look on his face. He moved past him once more, sitting down on the black leather couch. Jungkook went to the armchair in the corner, settling into it while still holding the ice pack to his eye. He wanted so desperately to ask Taehyung what he was thinking, but his guilt glued his lips together. Several minutes passed before Taehyung sighed.
“What was your plan, Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell our parents that I was dating Dior? Tell them that you had gone and married Dizzy behind their backs? And what would happen to Dior and I? Were we supposed to just suffer, so you could have your way?”
“I didn’t think that far,” Jungkook admitted sheepishly.
“No,” Taehyung said. “You never do.”
“I can’t marry Dior, hyung.”
“I know. You’re already married.”
“It’s not just that,” Jungkook said. “I didn’t want to hurt you. It was killing you. I could see it. You’ve lost weight. You clearly haven’t been sleeping. Jin-hyung told me you haven’t left your apartment in weeks. And . . . you don’t speak to me anymore.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. “Jungkook -”
“I understand. I’m supposed to marry the woman you love next week. You probably couldn’t stand to look at me. But . . . you’re my best friend. I hated hurting you. I just want you to be happy. That’s why I never said anything about you dating my fiance. That’s why I never planned on marrying Dior in the first place.”
“How were you planning on getting out of that before all of this?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook shrugged helplessly.
“I don’t know. Running away? Just disappearing? I have enough cash saved up that I -“
“Are you crazy?” Taehyung snapped. “What the hell would I do without you?”
“Marry Dior,” Jungkook said. “Be happy, finally.”
“I can’t be happy without my family,” Taehyung said after a moment. “I can’t be happy without my baby brother . . . I’m sorry for ignoring you. I was just so jealous, I was worried I’d do something awful.”
“Like punch me in the face?” Jungkook asked. Taehyung had the decency to look ashamed.
“I’m sorry for that too,” He said.
“I’m sorry too,” Jungkook said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just . . . I couldn’t leave. Not after Dizzy moved here. Not after she actually agreed to marry me. I wanted to be able to provide her with the same life our hyung’s give their girls. She deserves it. She deserves everything.”
“So does Dior,” Taehyung said.
“I know,” Jungkook agreed. “She’s a good girl. She’s always been so patient with me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I feel terrible about scaring her so badly. And about calling her a pathetic doll.”
“That was you?” Taehyung’s tone was accusatory. He sat up straight, body stiffening.
“I said I was sorry!” Jungkook whined. Taehyung settled back down, a frown still on his face. “Hyung, I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You’re going to fix this by telling the truth,” Taehyung said, and his tone left no room for argument.
On the drive over to their family estate, anxiety began to bubble in Jungkook’s stomach. Though he talked a big game with Dior, he was downright terrified to tell his parents that he couldn’t marry her. They had planned for this from the moment he was born. How could he possibly tell them that it was all for nothing? As Taehyung drove up the long, winding driveway, Jungkook could feel his throat begin to close up. He looked over at his older brother.
“I can’t do this,” He said.
“If you could marry Y/N behind their backs, you can at least have the decency to tell them about it,” Taehyung said as he put the car into park.
Jungkook sighed. He knew there was no getting out of this. It was what needed to be done - for everyone’s sake. Not just his, or his brother’s, or Dior’s, but yours as well. Jungkook had left you sitting in your room, believing that your marriage was based upon a lie. He needed to prove to you that it wasn’t. His love for you was overpowering. It controlled his every action, his every thought, his every breath. He had come too far now to just give up. Giving up on you wasn’t an option. It never was.
The front door was opened by their butler, Hanwool. He was an old man, with graying hair and circular, wire rim glasses sitting on the edge of his nose. Despite the late hour, he was still wearing his suit.
“Oh, young masters!” He crowed as he left them in. “What a pleasure to see you! What can I do for you at this hour?”
“We need to speak to our parents,” Taehyung said. Hanwool frowned.
“Young master Taehyung, your parents retired to bed hours ago,” He said.
“I figured,” Taehyung said. “But I insist.”
“I must warn against waking your father at this hour,” Hanwool said. Jungkook fought the irritation growing within him. He hated being told no, especially by someone who had dedicated their life to serving him. He reminded himself that Hanwool was just trying to be helpful. “The master of the house has a long day of meetings ahead of him. It wouldn’t be wise to upset him.”
“I understand,” Taehyung said. “But it’s an emergency.”
“Very well,” Hanwool said, before turning and heading up the large staircase. He left them standing in the foyer, and Jungkook knew it would be several excruciating minutes before he returned. Their parents' bedroom resided on the third floor of the east wing. Their father liked his privacy.
The two brothers stood in silence as the grandfather clocked ticked and tocked in the corner. Each audible second that passed was like nails on a chalkboard to Jungkook’s ears. His palms were sweating. After seven minutes, Hanwool returned with his parents in tow. They were still in their pajamas, expensive robes wrapped around each of their frames. While their father had a tired, irritated expression, their mother smiled kindly.
“My babies!” She said cheerfully as she descended down the stairs, her robe floating around her. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders, and under the light of the chandelier, she seemed to glow.
“What the hell do you two think you’re doing, waking me at this time - oh God,” Their father’s eyes widened as he approached them. He was looking directly at Jungkook’s face. “What happened?”
“Oh Kookie,” Their mother cried, rushing towards Jungkook. She gently took his face into her soft hands. “Who hurt you?”
“Taehyung,” He said instantly. He didn’t know how to lie to his mom. Taehyung glared at him.
“Why on Earth would you hit your baby brother?” Their father snapped, a deep frown on his handsome face. His dark hair was beginning to gray some.
“He deserved it,” Taehyung said apathetically.
“I did,” Jungkook agreed.
“What could you have possibly done to deserve getting hurt?” Their mother asked, still holding his face in her hands. Embarrassingly enough, tears began to flood his eyes. He felt like a child again, and all he wanted was his mother to comfort him.
“I messed up, eomma,” His voice cracked as he spoke. “I messed up really bad.”
As he explained, his mother’s face dropped and his father’s frown only grew more intense. By the time he finished, he was sure his father was going to hit him once more.
“You stupid, stupid boy,” He hissed. “The both of you - idiots! How dare you marry another girl, knowing you’re engaged? And Taehyung! How dare you fool around with your brother’s fiance? I raised you better than this! I expect better than this! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I would be happy to tell some of my closest friends that my youngest son won’t marry their daughter because he stupidly married a girl he doesn’t even know? And that my other son turned their only daughter into some whore?”
“Don’t say that about her!” Taehyung shouted. Their father’s glare had him shrinking into himself. Their mother sighed. As Jungkook told his story, she had let go of his face and had moved to stand by their father. Her arms were crossed in front of her. She had the same indecipherable expression that Taehyung had earlier that night. Their father continued to rant, insulting them several more times as he did so.
“Sweetheart,” Their mother said, cutting her husband off. He silenced instantly. Even decades into their marriage, he was nothing if not weak to her. “You can’t blame them.”
“Angel, how could you say that?” He asked, his tone much more gentle as he spoke to her. Jungkook wished that their father would extend that same kindness to them. He couldn’t remember a time their father had ever raised his voice with her. Everything she did was perfect in his eyes, but then Jungkook could hardly blame him. Their mother was a perfect woman.
“Look at the example we set for them,” She said. “You married me after knowing me for only a month. I came from a nothing family. I had no money, no title. Your parents were furious, and you knew they would be too. Yet, you did it anyway.”
“We taught our sons to put love before everything, and they went and did just that. How could we be mad at them? I feel just awful that our poor Taehyung has been suffering all these years, and we didn’t even notice. It makes me feel like a terrible mother.”
“You’re an amazing mother, eomma,” Taehyung said instantly. Their mother gave them a kind smile.
“Thank you, darling,” She said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t notice once how badly you were suffering. And Jungkook! He’s simply following in his father’s footsteps. Marrying a girl he just met despite knowing how badly it would upset you. It’s courageous, don’t you think?”
Taehyung and Jungkook stood silently as their father mulled over her words. Their mother had always been far too lenient with them. She taught them that they could get away with anything, even murder. She reasoned away even their most heinous acts, supporting them through even their worst crimes. Jungkook wondered at times if it was their father who caused her to be so accepting of their family’s obvious insanity, or if she was born this way. After a minute, their father sighed, before pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“I will call your fiance’s parents in the morning,” Their father said.
“What are you going to tell them?” Taehyung asked.
“That my reckless idiot of a son fell in love with another girl,” He said with a pointed glare towards Jungkook. “And that he cannot marry their daughter. We will offer you in his place. I’m sure they’ll take it, rather than have their daughter be humiliated this way.”
Taehyung couldn’t hide his blinding grin. It shone like a million watt lightbulb. Their mother returned it, while their father still had the same weary expression on his face.
“Thank you,” He breathed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Jungkook, we’ll need to meet this girl,” Their father said. “In order to ensure that she is a good fit for our family.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Jungkook said truthfully. There was absolutely nothing disappointing about you.
Their parents soon retired back to their room, and Taehyung drove Jungkook back to his apartment. All the while, he rambled excitedly about his upcoming wedding and life with Dior. He sounded like a man gone insane, and Jungkook knew better than to assume he was anything but. Jungkook didn’t bother going back up to his apartment after Taehyung dropped him off. He raced straight to his car before speeding over to Jin’s house. He called you repeatedly the entire drive over, yet you still ignored him. He parked in the driveway, running up the porch and pounding away at the front door. Within moments, it swung open to reveal a furious Jin.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Jin asked venomously. Jungkook pushed past him, unable to stop for a moment. He was a man on a mission, desperate to have you in his arms again. It had been too long, and he could feel himself quickly descending into the hysteria his brothers found themselves in when there was any strain on their relationship.
He raced up the stairs, ignoring as Jin called after him. He walked down the hall with heavy footsteps before bursting into your bedroom. You were sitting in your bed, staring listlessly out the window. You jumped in shock, turning to look at Jungkook with a hand over your heart.
“What do you want?” You asked, eyes narrowing.
“Your favorite color is pink, but you tell everyone it’s green so they think you’re cool,” Jungkook said instantly. Your glare began to melt into a much more confused expression.
“And your favorite number is 74, because you wanted a different favorite number than everyone else,” Jungkook continued. “You’ve had twelve piercings in total but you keep taking them out because you get them without thinking and end up regretting them. You prefer skateboarding to driving, and you say your favorite pastime is something crazy like skydiving, but really it’s watching movies - because you love films. You want to be a director, but you don’t tell people that because you're worried they’ll shit all over it so instead you tell everyone you’re studying to be an accountant when that just isn’t true. You say you get good grades because you want to prove your parents wrong, not because you actually care - but that isn’t true either. You get good grades because you love what you’re studying, and because you’re good at it. You want so badly for people to think you’re different but you don’t need to try because you are. You’re so special, Y/N and I don’t understand how you can’t possibly see it.”
Jungkook’s breath was heaving by the end of his speech. He said it all without taking a breath. He must have sounded like a maniac, rambling on and on like that. You stared at him with wide, owl-like eyes.
“Nice speech,” You said hesitantly, after a moment. “Really, it would be perfect for some stupid rom-com. But none of that changes the fact that you lied to me.”
“I know, I know,” Jungkook said, running a hand through his hair. “But . . . I just love you so much. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and . . . I asked you to marry me without thinking. It just came out. But then you said yes! I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re my wife. I want you to be my wife for the rest of my life.”
As he spoke, he moved around the bed and fell to his knees before you. Jungkook was not a man who begged, but for you he would do anything. You stared at him incredulously, struggling to comprehend the situation. You often got yourself into crazy situations, each one more absurd than the last, but this one had your head spinning. It was far too emotional for you.
“You’re still engaged to someone else,” You said after a moment. You were struggling. A beautiful man, your beautiful man, was on his knees before you. You wanted nothing more than to fling into his arms and relish in his obvious adoration. No one had ever called you special before. Stupid and reckless, maybe. But never special.
“Not anymore,” He said. “You gave me the courage to do what I’ve always wanted to - tell my parents I wouldn’t marry Dior.”
You gaped at him, struggling to find any words. This was not the outcome you expected. Yes, he kept calling and texting, begging for your attention. Begging for a response. But you were all too accustomed to disappointment. You thought this would end in his wedding with Dior. Not with him on his knees, professing his love and telling you he broke things off with her.
“Is she upset?” You asked. Jungkook shrugged.
“Probably,” He said. “I didn’t explain things too kindly to her. But she’ll be fine. She’s marrying Taehyung - it’s what she’s always wanted. She never loved me, not even for a moment. But she always loved him. Always.”
“And I what?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. It made you want to kiss him silly. You couldn’t understand how a man you likened to a marble statue could be so adorable sometimes. Still, you held yourself back. Restraint was something you didn’t have much practice with, but you could occasionally employ it in dire times.
“Did you love her?” You asked. Jungkook shook his head.
“No, never,” He said. “I’ve never loved anyone before you. I didn’t think it was in the cards for me.”
“Oh,” Is all you could manage. A strange feeling of possessiveness took hold of you. You were all too pleased to hear that. Jungkook stared at you with an expression that put you in mind of a puppy. He looked like a dog begging for scraps at the dinner table, desperate for even a taste of what he was sure to be heaven. Were you Heaven to him? Was that even possible? You weren’t meant to be loved. You weren’t meant to be adored. You were a ticking time bomb, something no one wanted to hold for long.
You watched as Jungkook dug into his pocket before pulling out a small, black box. You gasped. He opened it to reveal a pink sapphire ring that somehow managed to shimmer in the soft moonlight that filtered into your bedroom.
“I got it after I went with Dior,” Jungkook said. “I thought about getting emerald, so you could keep pretending green was your favorite color, but I decided against it.”
“Why?” You asked, unable to tear your eyes away from the ring.
“Because you have nothing to prove,” He said, as though it were so simple. As if it were true. You looked up after a moment, meeting Jungkook’s eyes. You stared into them, trying to find some hint of a lie. All you could find was desperate adoration. He looked crazed, but were you any different? Jungkook appeared to be just as impossibly impulsive as you were.
Two wrecking balls, two time bombs. He was gasoline, and you were a lit match. It was becoming very obvious to you that the love you shared was a fire. As you held out your hand, watching with manic eyes as Jungkook slid the ring onto your finger, you prayed that no one ever found water.
He grinned, staring at your hand for just a moment before pouncing on you, slamming his lips onto yours as you both fell back onto the bed. You returned the kiss wholeheartedly, melting into your husband’s touch. He couldn’t fight off his grin, not even as he kissed you.
His thoughts had been reduced to a mantra of Mine, mine, mine, mine. You belonged to him, and in the morning he would make it legal. You would be his until the day you died, until long after that. The idea of ever letting you go was physically abhorrent - he’d go crazy. Do worse than he had ever done before. He was entirely too selfish for that. He had gone through life, doing as he pleased - consequences be damned. Whether his actions were legal or not, his mother would always refer to them as his crimes with a loving smile on her face. It was undeniable, however. Out of all the crimes he committed, you were by far his favorite.
“What happened to your eye?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away.
“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook murmured before kissing you once more.
It didn’t. In the end, nothing mattered except you. Not Dior, not his father’s opinions, nothing at all. He would burn down the world with a smile if you asked him to. He would burn everything in his path, everything that mattered to you if you ever tried to leave. You wouldn’t try to, however. He would teach you better. He loved you, after all.
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Lúthien Tinúviel | Women of Arda - Ladies of the Teleri | Part 3 of 6
Lúthien was born in Y.T 1200 in the Forest of Neldoreth to King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. As the daughter of the only union between the elves and maiar, she was counted the fairest of all the Children of Ilúvatar to have ever lived. It is said that at the moment of her birth, the niphredil flowers first grew. She was also known by the name Tinúviel, meaning "nightingale" after the birds of her mother, or more literally "daughter of twilight".
Lúthien would often spend her days dancing in the woods of her father’s kingdom and at times her friend Daeron would play the flute to accompany her. In F.A 465, Beren son of Barahir came upon her as she danced in a grove of hemlocks and loved her from that very moment. Although Lúthien fled, Beren searched for her and they fell in love. Lúthien then brought her mortal lover before her mother and father. King Thingol was greatly angered by this and for a seemingly unattainable bride price demanded that Beren bring him a silmaril taken from the crown of Morgoth if he wished to marry Lúthien.
When Beren was captured by Sauron during the Quest of the Silmaril, Lúthien perceived a darkness in her heart. When Melian revealed the reason for this, she was determined to leave and rescue Beren, but Thingol hindered her by placing her under guard. Lúthien escaped by weaving a cloak of enchantment from her long hair and it “wrapped her beauty like a shadow” so that she might pass unseen from Doriath. In her travels, she met Huan, hound of the Valar, who brought her to his masters, Celegorm and Curufin. The sons of Fëanor used false pretences of friendship to capture Lúthien, with Celegorm intending to make her his wife. Huan, however, helped Lúthien escape and bore her away.
Eventually, Lúthien and Huan came to Sauron’s fortress of Tol-in-Gaurhoth and she sang on the bridge there. Sauron saw her from his tower and, recognising her, resolved to deliver her to Morgoth. Huan, however, killed every werewolf Sauron sent across the bridge, until Sauron took a werewolf form of his own. The sheer force of his wickedness and hatred weakened Lúthien, but she used her magic veil to fatigue and blind him. The fight was long, but Sauron could not resist both Lúthien and Huan. Trapped in the hounds jaws, Sauron could not escape regardless of what form her tool, and so yielded to Lúthien the isle so that he might be released. Escaping into the forest, Sauron remained defeated until the end of the First Age.
After freeing Beren, Lúthien and he were set upon by the sons of Fëanor once more. In the ambush, Curufin aimed an arrow at Lúthien and Beren was injured saving her. After healing him, Lúthien then had them take the guises of Draugluin, the first werewolf, and Thuringwethil, a vampire and Sauron’s messenger. Arriving at the gates of Angband, Lúthien was undaunted when they were confronted by Carcharoth. With a divine power both radiant and terrible, she commanded the werewolf sleep, and he fell as though struck by lightning. Together, Beren and Lúthien then entered into Morgoth’s court.
Standing before the dark lord’s throne, Lúthien felt not fear, and offered to dance and sing for him. Morgoth lusted after her and agreed, but Lúthien sang a song of such enchantment that all his court fell into a deep sleep. Then, casting her cloak over his eyes, she ser upon him a dark dream. With him asleep, Beren took a knife and began to pry the silmarils from Morgoth’s crown. The spell was broken, however, when the blade shattered and the pair fled. Carcharoth, now awake, ambushed them at the gate and bit Beren’s hand off as it clutched the silmaril.
Returning to Doriath, Beren told the tales of his deeds to Thingol and revealed that he held the silmaril in his hand, even if it was in the stomach of a werewolf. Thingol then gave his assent to Lúthien’s marriage. Carcharoth, however, was driven mad by the burning of the silmaril inside him and from the power of the gem and fate was able to cross the Girdle of Melian. Thingol and Beren went to fight the rampaging beast, but Beren was killed in the struggle.
Lúthien commanded Beren to wait for her in the Undying Lands. There, she appeared before Mandos and song a long full of such grief and sorrow that the Vala’s heart was touched. After seeking Manwë’s counsel, Mandos delivered to Lúthien the choice of Eru Ilúvatar; to remain in the Blessed Realm forever more or to become a mortal woman and return with Beren to Middle Earth. Lúthien chose mortality.
Lúthien and Beren had one son, Dior Elúchil, born in F.A 470. The year they died is thought to be F.A 503, but none know for certain. In her choice, Lúthien became the ancestress of the Half-elven, including her granddaughter Elwing and her sons, Elros Tar-Minyatur and Elrond of Rivendell. Moreover, upon her death Lúthien’s spirit became the first of the elves to depart from the circles of the world. Her descendant, Arwen Undómiel, would eventually also choose mortality.
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chapter 4 — natural.
🎀 you couldn’t believe your ears when oikawa asked you, “have you ever seen iwa-chan fight?” well, long story short, now you have. and you’ve also done something else you never would’ve expected.
PAIRING: bad boy!iwaizumi x f!reader
SOUNDTRACK: “good day” by iann dior
THE PLAYLIST: youtube || spotify || apple music
SIZE / FLAVOR: 4.9k || fluff
CONTENTS: mild violence, mentions of drugs & alcohol, profanity, proofread once & poor writing bc my time management is shit
NOTES: what’s the TEEAAAA iwa-chan is FIGHTINGGGGG (ok but this was double the length of what i originally intended but i didn’t wanna make y’all wait an extra week when i lowkey promised iwa fighting for this week GAHHHHHH PLEASE LMK WHAT YOU THOUGHT BC THIS TOOK ME SO FREAKIN’ LONG OMG)
ART: fighter iwa by my fave @annypuff
m.list || << prev ... ch. 4 ... next >>
“W-what?” you blink in surprise and confusion at Oikawa’s question. “Like a real fight? With fists and stuff?”
If it weren’t for your unexpected, clearly oblivious response, Oikawa would’ve laughed at how cute and endearing your question was.
“Didn’t you just say he comes to your workplace early on Monday mornings?” he asks, taking his arm off the table to lean back into his chair.
“Yeah?” you say, suddenly nervous as the possibilities race through your head. “Oh my god, are you saying he’s out getting into fights? Like street fights??”
Oikawa presses his lips together, contemplating how to reply; he’d guessed that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be too keen on letting you in on every single detail of his life, but he definitely didn’t think you two had gone this long being friends without Iwaizumi telling you what he’s been up to every Sunday night.
Well, that would explain why he was so against Oikawa hanging out with you alone.
“Is he…” you say hesitantly in a low voice, interrupting Oikawa’s thoughts. “In a gang?”
This time, Oikawa can’t stifle the little laugh that escapes his lips.
“Iwa-chan might look scary, but no, he’s not in a gang,” he chuckles at you, tapping his finger against his bottom lip.
Well, now that he’s already let Iwaizumi’s secret slip, the least he could do is clarify things a bit so you don’t get the wrong idea about his best friend completely.
“Iwa-chan is…” Oikawa starts, visibly amused at the way you’re hanging on attentively to his every word with wide eyes. “Something like an underground fighter.”
“A what?!” you exclaim, jaw dropping to the table.
“But!” Oikawa cuts you off before you can say anything else. “That’s all I can tell you for now, since I would like to keep my head before Iwa-chan comes for my life.”
“Whaaat,” you groan. “You can’t just drop something like that on me and not elaborate.”
“Sorry sweetheart,” Oikawa chortles, the nickname making your heart flutter.
You don’t even realize you’re pouting until he smiles at your expression and says, “That cute look might work on Iwa-chan, but it won’t work on me.”
You stiffen at his remark, unsure of how to respond, so you just don’t.
It’s clear Oikawa has set the boundaries for what he can’t disclose to you, and as much as it’s killing you, you have no choice but to respect it—this is Iwaizumi’s life, after all.
“It’s okay,” Oikawa chirps. “We can talk about lots of other things—I may not be Iwa-chan, but I’m a pretty interesting guy too.”
“I’m sure you are,” you sigh and roll your eyes at him, shaking your head with a smile.
“Oh! I don’t even have your number,” he realizes, taking his phone out of his pocket to hand to you. “How could I miss out on this opportunity with such a cute girl?”
Although flattered by the compliment, you can suddenly understand the look that comes across Iwaizumi’s face when he wants to punch Oikawa.
Just a little.
“Thank you~” Oikawa sings, plucking the device out of your hands as soon as you finish putting your information in. “Let me take a contact photo for you.”
“Right now?” You fidget in your seat, attempting to fix your hair a bit.
“Yup!” he grins, pointing the phone camera at you. “You look pretty—smile in one, two, three!”
You give a small smile at him, subconsciously tilting your head to the side.
He taps the screen once, and turns it around to show you how the photo turned out.
It looks alright (as far as alright goes, when you’re sleep-deprived and just cried a couple hours ago), and you give him your nod of approval.
Oikawa hits “Save” under your contact photo, and swiftly sends it to Iwaizumi with a few quick taps. The empty ramen bowl in front of you in the picture should be enough to reassure him that Oikawa has fed you—not that Iwaizumi would admit to caring.
“Are you ready to go?” Oikawa asks, slipping his phone back into his pocket with a grin.
“Huh?” you look up back at him. “Oh, yeah. But we still have to pay—”
“I took care of the bill earlier,” he smiles, dismissing your concerns.
“How much was it?” you ask, scrambling to take out your wallet (that you thankfully haven’t lost).
“Don’t worry about it.” Oikawa cheerfully waves his hand at you, getting up from his seat. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
— ✧ ✧ ✧ —
Iwaizumi opens the photo sent to him from Oikawa again, not quite staring at it per se, but perhaps letting his eyes linger on your smile for just a second longer—until the bastard’s winking face and stupid peace sign suddenly light up the screen, Iwaizumi’s phone buzzing with the words “Incoming Call: Oikawa Tooru” plastered across the top.
Pressing the “Accept” button, Iwaizumi brings the device up to his ear, greeting his friend with what could only be described as an eerie silence.
Iwaizumi could swear that the mere sound of Oikawa’s voice is enough to activate his fight-or-flight response.
“So how was dinner?” he finally asks, biting the last word of his question.
“It was good!” Oikawa chimes with sickening happiness through the phone. “She’s sweet. I like her. And I can see why you do too.”
“God, when will you shut up,” Iwaizumi growls, tempted to just end the call.
“But I maaay or may not have said something I shouldn’t have,” Oikawa quickly confesses before Iwaizumi has a chance to refute his last remark.
Oikawa gulps, ready to face the consequences of his sins.
“I told her about your fights,” he blurts out, ripping the bandaid off.
“You what?” Iwaizumi barks into the microphone.
“This is what happens when you don’t tell me things,” Oikawa whines in an awful attempt to defend his actions. “You two have been hanging out for weeks! How can you expect me to think you’ve been keeping this from her this whole time? Which is soooo not a good idea, by the way.”
“You’re fucking dead, asshole,” Iwaizumi growls.
“I’m sorryyyy,” Oikawa wails dramatically. “I just told her you’re sort of an underground fighter, but not much else—I promise.”
Iwaizumi pinches the skin between his brows, quietly fuming. But what’s done is done.
Oikawa blinks on the other side of the line. “Well, what?”
“What’d she say?” Iwaizumi mumbles irritatedly.
Oikawa has to slap his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh.
“She just wanted me to elaborate,” he says calmly, giving it his best effort to hide his amusement. Iwaizumi is just so bad at acting like he doesn’t care sometimes.
“I didn’t, of course—but she didn’t seem scared off or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
A knot feels like it unties itself in Iwaizumi’s stomach.
“Hm,” he grunts.
“Am I off the hook?” Oikawa asks hopefully.
“I’m still gonna kill you next time I see you,” Iwaizumi mutters, hanging up with just slightly less malice than when he’d picked up the call.
Oikawa breathes a sigh of relief knowing his life has been spared at the tone of his friend’s voice, despite the threat just now.
And lucky for Oikawa, Iwaizumi is always as easy to read as an open book: there was undoubtedly a release of tension when he found out that you weren’t scared off by his… activities outside of school, even if you don’t know much about it—yet.
Oikawa is starting to think that it might not be such a bad idea to just let you see for yourself what kind of lifestyle his best friend leads, to obliterate all those ridiculous guesses.
You somehow even believed that Iwaizumi was a gangster, for god’s sake. Is that really what people are saying these days?
Well, Oikawa’s never liked the way that rumors tend to travel throughout your university.
— ✧ ✧ ✧ —
This weekend was a much needed break from school, after the hell that was last week.
The most interesting thing that’s happened to you other than being able to sleep as much as you want for the first time in forever, is perhaps Oikawa’s occasional texts to you after your little impromptu hangout a few days ago.
You find it entertaining how he loves using emojis and exclamation marks in his texts—a stark contrast from the dry and gruff counterpart that is his best friend, who’s made a couple appearances in the pictures Oikawa would send you of them spending time together.
It’s almost lovable, the way Oikawa’s always smiling or sticking his tongue out at the camera, while Iwaizumi is evidently a few seconds away from socking him—despite half his face being obstructed by Oikawa’s in the photos.
Oikawa seems to have a naturally flirty way of interacting with people (or maybe just girls?), and, as charming as he is, you can appreciate how it’s also very clear he’s not trying to get at you in any way.
But he does manage to keep you on your toes, because you’re gaping at the text message he just sent you on what would’ve been an otherwise peaceful Sunday afternoon.
Oikawa: hey! what’re you doing tonight :) wanna come with me to see iwa-chan fight?
After shutting you down at the ramen restaurant, you’re suddenly getting an invite to see it happen in person?
You feel bewildered, nervous, and a little scared without knowing what to expect, but you still text him back quickly.
You: can i??
And he responds just as fast.
Oikawa: of course! i’ll pick you up later ;)
Oikawa: oh but also, you might want to get some sleep—it’ll be pretty late
You blink at his message.
You: ??? like how late?
Oikawa: i’d say we should leave around 3am maybe?
Your jaw drops.
What the fuck?? 3am??
When is it supposed to end if you’re just leaving at 3am?
You: holy shit
Oikawa: i knoww i’m about to take a nap right now, so you should too! i’ll see you later tonight :)
You narrow your eyes at how he doesn’t even give you the option of backing out, maybe on purpose—not that you planned to, anyway.
Thank goodness you have the day off from school tomorrow.
You text him your address once more, just in case he forgot it after taking you home a few days ago, and let out a long sigh.
It doesn’t seem like there’s any option other than to sleep for a number of hours before what sounds like is about to be a crazy night—though you’re not sure if you’ll be able to get any real rest, with the way your heart is racing at the strange procession of events.
…Well, those were your last conscious thoughts and concerns before you’d knocked out cold, waking up to the dark and quiet of the hour none other than midnight.
You want to be shocked—appalled, almost—at your ability to just pass out like a rock, but, granted, it has been quite a difficult and exhausting week.
So, honestly? Understandable.
Your next couple of hours mainly consist of cooking dinner (is there really a term for a meal at 1am?), making yourself look somewhat presentable (seriously, what do people wear to these kinds of things…), and pacing around your room until you finally feel the buzz of Oikawa’s long-awaited text.
Oikawa: i’m outside! you ready?
Taking one last glance in the mirror, you stuff your keys into your small crossbody bag before turning the lights off and opening the door.
Oikawa catches sight of you once you step outside, giving you a lighthearted wave in his black jacket and white t-shirt.
“Hellooo,” you greet him, stuffing your hands into your own jacket pockets. You look around the empty street, wondering if he drove here to pick you up.
“We’re taking the train since it’s faster that way,” he chuckles at your left-and-right glances. “I took a cab here so we can leave together.”
“Oh, okay,” you nod, realizing he must be talking about the station not far from where you live. “Where’s the uh, thing happening?”
“I believe it’s usually at an auto body shop not too far from your campus,” Oikawa hums, walking beside you. “But sometimes it changes, like today, so it’s a little further.”
“How do you know where it is?” you ask, your voice easily carrying through the still air.
“They text ticket-holders the address a few hours beforehand,” he explains. “But on days I don’t have a ticket, I’ll just bug Iwa-chan until he tells me.”
“Don’t have a ticket… like today?”
“Maybe,” he grins down at you, causing your heart rate to speed up.
You pray he knows what he’s doing.
As the two of you embark on your trip together to the mysterious location, you make several attempts to squeeze some information about Iwaizumi and this whole “fighting thing” out of Oikawa. Although, he seems to be well-aware of your intentions, with the way he easily picks-and-chooses which questions of yours to answer.
“Are you nervous?” Oikawa asks, noticing you grow quieter and quieter as the train arrives at your destination.
“A little,” you admit. “Don’t really know what to expect.”
“Hmm, well when we get there I’ll try to bribe the bouncer,” he says nonchalantly with a tap of his finger against his lip. “Then they’ll pat you down for weapons before letting you in, and I’m guessing they’re holding the matches downstairs.”
You shake your leg anxiously, waiting for him to continue.
“I think Iwa-chan is going third tonight,” he adds. “So we’ll just have to squeeze to the front of the crowd before he comes out—try to hold onto me later so you don’t get pushed over or anything.”
You gulp at his casual warning and wonder just what is that you’re signing up for.
“Is it dangerous?” you ask after a small hesitation.
“Not for us,” he shrugs, which doesn’t feel very comforting, for some reason. “For the fighters, yeah, probably—but I don’t think anyone’s life has ever been in danger.”
Your face pales at how low the bar is.
“Is this even legal?” you breathe, the question almost drowned out by the sound of the train’s engines as it slowly halts.
“Does Iwa-chan look like he cares if things are legal or not?” Oikawa responds with a chuckle. “You’re the one who thought he was a gangster.”
Your mouth clamps shut at his remark.
“Come on,” he says, getting up from his seat. “We’re here.”
Following him out of the vehicle, you finally manage to spit out the question you’ve contemplated asking for the past ten minutes, for fear of how stupid it’ll sound.
“Is it scary?” you squeak, to which Oikawa pauses in his tracks.
“Your first time might feel a little scary,” he answers, a reassuring smile on his lips as he resumes walking. “But Iwa-chan’s really good—today’s an important match for him, and trust me, you might wanna see it.”
“Why is it an important match?” you blink, but Oikawa merely grins at you teasingly, once again hiding things from you.
You trail behind him, huffing as he leads the way to the source of your apprehension.
After about ten minutes of walking, you see a bar with a dimly lit “OPEN” sign come into view, stiffening as you realize you’ve arrived.
“Where is everyone?” you whisper to Oikawa, noting the emptiness of the street, barring the one tall and, for lack of a better word, terrifying-looking man standing by the door—probably the bouncer. “I thought you said there would be a crowd.”
“We’re a little late,” Oikawa answers, putting on a cheerful expression to greet the bouncer. “Standing in line is pointless and a pain, since we’re just here for Iwa-chan anyway.”
He strolls up to the bar entrance, stopping in front of the man who’s at least another head taller than Oikawa himself.
“Tickets?” the stranger asks gruffly, eyeing you up and down.
Oikawa shifts his body to the left, obstructing your view from the man before pulling out a few bills from his back pocket.
“For me, and the lady,” he smiles sweetly, slipping it into the bouncer’s hand.
Your eyes widen upon catching a brief glimpse at the number printed on the bills—you make that much in about a week.
The man clicks his tongue in annoyance, but moves aside to allow the two of you entry after briefly patting you down like Oikawa said he would.
A bartender stands near the entrance, wiping down glass cups and gestures you two towards a staircase near the back of the room. Oikawa gives a polite wave of thanks and strolls in that direction, making his way down the steps.
After reaching a large, metal door at the bottom of the staircase, Oikawa turns to you.
The muffled sounds of people cheering and yelling makes you uneasy.
“Ready?” he asks, and you give him a small nod. “Just hold onto me while I get us to the front.”
Oikawa pushes the handle as the heavy door creaks open, you following closely behind him with one hand clutching his jacket.
You’re greeted by a wave of warmth of the large underground basement, the musty air filled with an array of smells, ranging from cigarette and marijuana smoke to cheap beer.
But the roaring of your loud environment is enough to distract you from the less than pleasant smell, and, as you approach the crowd of a hundred people or so gathered in the center of the dimly lit room, Oikawa turns around and takes your hand off his jacket and into his own hand.
“Didn’t expect there to be this many people,” he bends down and says in your ear, leading you towards the mass.
You let him guide you through the people packed like sardines, taking note of how you definitely don’t look like you belong here—most of the men are tall and ripped, tattoos decorating their arms and chests. Even the women here look several years older than you, their makeup dark and alluring, with racy outfits to match.
Yeah, as an awkward university student, you stick out just a little bit.
“FUCK HIM UP!” you hear a man scream from beside you, flinching instinctively as he pumps his fist in the air. You crane your neck to try to see what’s happening, but the attempt is unsuccessful with all these bodies blocking you.
Oikawa finally manages to slowly squeeze past the hoard of people, still holding your hand, until he reaches the front and lets go of it.
You find yourself pressed against a steel barricade with Oikawa close behind you, and notice that the metal racks are set up in a large oval to shield the onlookers from the two [huge, beefy] fighters, referee, and announcer in the center.
You gasp as you see one of the shirtless men in the center punch his opponent square in the face several times with enough force to render him unconscious, your hands flying to your mouth in shock and horror.
The referee blows into his whistle with a shrill screech.
The crowd goes absolutely wild as they cheer in varying intensities once the referee holds up one arm of each fighter at a time.
“What happened?!” you shout at Oikawa, unsure of what to make of the situation since no one was passed out like you thought they’d be. “Who won?”
Oikawa points at the man who threw the punches you saw earlier, and leans down to your ear-level so you can hear him over the noise.
“There’s three rounds, three minutes each,” he says loudly. “The winner is determined by audience cheers, or if one fighter either admits defeat or just can’t fight anymore.”
You nod and watch the victor pound his boxing gloves against his glistening, muscular chest in triumph—not too different from the way a gorilla would assert its dominance in the jungle—as the crowd continues showering him with love through their cries of admiration.
He then makes his way across the ring and leans over the metal rack, locking his lips with a woman who immediately wraps her arms around his neck with adoration and familiarity.
Their makeout session is so intense with the hair-pulling and lip-biting that you feel like you’re interrupting something, though the rest of the audience is howling with excitement at the show.
You look at Oikawa, who merely shrugs at you and says, “Men.”
“And now, the match you’ve all been waiting for…” you hear the commentator’s voice ring through the large speakers from all over the room. “Number two—”
He gestures for the new fighter to enter the ring after the previous ones left with a wave of his hand, to which the audience cheers.
The new contestant looks scary, to say the least. It’s either the fact that his muscles are absolutely monstrous, or that he’s probably well over six feet tall, or the nasty scar next to his right eye.
“And number four!”
You turn your head to where the steel barricades are being moved to welcome the new fighter, and your heart stops in your chest.
“Number two, who remains undefeated thus far,”
Time seems to freeze as you drown out the cheers around you.
“Versus number four, who’s making a quick and impressionable climb up the ranks!”
You see Iwaizumi making his way into the ring, shirtless and wearing a pair of black shorts with a red tick mark at the bottom, with black and red gloves to match.
Your jaw drops so hard you don’t notice the way Oikawa is smirking at your reaction.
Iwaizumi catches Oikawa’s eye as a look of surprise flashes across his face, and you turn to Oikawa just in time to see him wearing an innocent, cheeky smile and sticking his tongue out.
He points down at you to his best friend with an excitement that only says, “Look who I brought!”
You snap your head back around as you lock eyes with Iwaizumi, his gaze piercing through you. Your heart feels like it’s going to pound right out of your chest at the sight of his tan, muscular build, as well as the large tattoo of a dragon on his right shoulder blade which you’ve never seen.
Iwaizumi’s eyes flicker back up to Oikawa’s, a familiar expression of disbelief and irritation across his face once he looks back down at you.
He tightens the straps on his gloves with his teeth, his canines biting down at the fabric without breaking eye contact (x). You give him a small wave, and he just sighs… but gives you a small smile in return.
Your heart feels like it’s on the cusp of bursting.
“What’s this?” the announcer’s voice booms through the room. “It looks like number four has brought a lovely lady friend of his own this time!”
Before you realize it, all eyes in the room are on you as you freeze in fear, looking frantically up at Oikawa for help. He just nudges you as you avoid making eye contact with all the gazes being thrown your way, but thankfully the moment is over as soon as it began.
“Looks like everyone is aware of your existence now,” Oikawa laughs at your stiffness.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
“Alright gentlemen,” the announcer bellows theatrically, standing in between Iwaizumi and his opponent. “Rules are the same as always! No kicking, biting, or shots below the belt—if one of you admits defeat or is unable to move, the match is automatically over!”
Iwaizumi tilts his neck to the left, then to the right, loosening up with a few cracks as the low light accentuates the cutting sharpness of his jawline.
The next few minutes feel like a fever dream.
You’re gripping the metal bars anxiously as you watch the two men defend their respective pride and fighting records.
Iwaizumi’s opponent is undoubtedly larger and stronger, but Iwaizumi is fast and precise—his swings are calculated, and when he does throw a punch, he does it with a force on par with the other’s.
The end of the first two three-minute rounds sound like a tie between the two men, with both fighters receiving equally loud cheers from the crowd.
It isn’t until a minute into the third round, that Iwaizumi’s opponent takes a quick shot at his head and you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth once again to muffle a mortified, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
But Iwaizumi had ducked right in time, supporting himself with his quads before hoisting his entire body weight into a solid punch into his opponent’s stomach.
And then another, followed by one more.
Iwaizumi swiftly moves out of the way in response to his opponent’s retaliation and squeezes in one more punch to the face, before swinging his arm around the other’s head and putting him into a headlock from behind.
The veins in Iwaizumi’s arms and the curves of his biceps are… truly a sight for sore eyes.
“Number two,” against his pride, finally thumps his gloved hand against Iwaizumi’s arm repeatedly with a face so reddish and purple that you think his head is going to pop from suffocation.
Iwaizumi releases his opponent and the crowd goes insane.
It takes you a second to process that the big, scary man had just admitted defeat. To Iwaizumi.
The audience is still cheering loudly when you realize he’s made his way towards you, giving Oikawa a fist bump with a confident puff of his chest, who just smiles back at him knowingly.
You’re still clapping along with everyone else when Iwaizum looks down at you from the other side of the steel barricade, and you notice that all eyes are on you once again.
Your mind flashes back to the previous victor who started making out with his girlfriend, and you suddenly realize with horror what Oikawa meant when he said “everyone is aware of your existence now.”
“Aren’t you gonna give him a prize for winning?” Oikawa teases, an evil glint in his eye, while Iwaizumi faces you, leaning against the metal racks with sweat rolling down his skin.
Overwhelmed by hundreds of people staring at you with expectant eyes, you take a deep breath and reach your hands out to hold Iwaizumi’s face, bringing him down to your level before pressing a kiss to his cheek on your tiptoes.
The onlookers are roaring and hollering again at the action, as if Iwaizumi just won another match.
His eyes widen slightly as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, tugging your body into a small hug against his bare skin before you pull away.
Oikawa watches with a smug smile on his lips while your cheeks burn with embarrassment as adrenaline courses through your body, still in shock over what you just did.
But perhaps what makes your heart race even faster, is the way Iwaizumi looks so handsome smiling at the crowd, as if glowing with pride.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen the stoic Iwaizumi look so… happy.
— ✧ ✧ ✧ —
“I’m tired,” Oikawa yawns, stretching his arms out as Iwaizumi walks out of the men’s shower.
You’re not sure which one is more distracting: the fact that Oikawa just casually pulled you into the empty men’s locker room with him to wait for Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi with damp hair, or Iwaizumi without a shirt on, still.
Oikawa takes out his phone to check the time, and you see the numbers “04:31” light up on the screen.
“I’m gonna take a cab home,” he announces, putting the device away into his pocket. “Iwa-chan, you’ll take her back, won’t you?”
“You’re not coming with us?” you ask in surprise.
“No space,” Oikawa smirks, without an explanation. “I’ll see you two later, and good job today, Iwa-chan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Iwaizumi says, waving him off. “Thanks.”
You also wave a confused goodbye to Oikawa as he exits the locker room, leaving you and Iwaizumi alone.
Suddenly reminded of the way you just kissed him earlier, your face flushes with a burning heat as you try to think of something to say.
“Uh, nice tattoo,” you choke out, cringing inside at your terrible, awkward attempt.
Well, you’re not lying.
The dragon on his shoulder blade is… intense, but absolutely gorgeous.
“Thanks,” he says, finally throwing a black t-shirt over his head, leaving you with nowhere to look other than his abs that must’ve been sculpted by God himself. “My friend did it for me.”
“Woah, that’s really cool,” you exclaim, following behind him as he grabs his belongings.
A small smile tugs at his lips while he beckons you out of the locker room with him, walking through a door that leads you to an alleyway out back.
You wonder what he’s thinking.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
You blink at him, and reply with a grin, “I could go for a snack.”
“Alright, I’ll take us somewhere,” he says, his breath resembling a puff of smoke in the cold air. You trail behind him towards the parking lot, but stop in your tracks at his next question.
“You ever been on a motorcycle?”
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can I please request a sebastian stan imagine where sebastian and the reader are both dating other people but they end up liking each other after filming something together, and the rest is up to you? xx
distance [sebastian stan x reader]
➽ pairing: sebastian stan x fem!reader (y/n)
➽ word count: 1.9k
➽ summary: see above!
➽ warnings: explicit language, mentions of tom hiddleston x reader, angst, pining
➽ a/n: enjoy!
Jealousy was new to you. Sure, you turned green every so often, but it wasn’t a usual occurrence. It happened infrequently enough that you forgot the way it felt every time it bubbled up again. Recently, though, you were familiar with jealousy.
You weren’t quite sure when it started. Maybe when you first met Sebastian. It was at the premiere for Avengers. You had been in it, playing Tony Stark’s daughter Lucy, who was kidnapped by the crazed Loki. In filming your scenes with Tom Hiddleston, you had grown to appreciate him, and the premiere was a sort-of announcement that you were dating. By that point, you already knew that you would be in the next Captain America movie, and you were thrilled to work with Chris and Scarlet again. On top of that, you were excited to meet Anthony Mackie.
You didn’t know that Sebastian would be in Winter Soldier until he approached you at the premiere. He looked handsome, suit and rings and slicked hair, and he congratulated you on an amazing performance. “Oh, I loved you in First Avenger,” you told him with a smile. “Bucky was my favorite by far. I cried when he died.”
Tom wrapped his arm around your waist and nodded in agreement. “She was truly a mess,” he said. “We had to pause the movie.” He shook Sebastian’s hand, and the force of it wasn’t lost on you.
“I got emotional during your scene together in the Tower,” Sebastian said. “Lucy begging for her dad, and Loki’s unrelenting cruelty. I just… Wow. It blew me away!”
“Thanks,” you said. “Are you gonna visit the Winter Soldier set?”
Sebastian laughed and bit his bottom lip. Full and pink. He was so totally handsome, and you felt lightheaded even being in his presence. “Well,” he started. “I’m actually in it.”
You gasped. “What? How? Bucky died!”
“He was rescued,” Sebastian said slowly. “By HYDRA. And he comes back.”
“Oh, my God,” you laughed. “Oh, you just made my entire night. Wow! I-I can’t wait!”
Sebastian nodded, and he looked to his side. A few meters away, a woman was talking to the press, and she quickly came and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. You recognized her as one of his co-stars from Once Upon A Time, and you felt that unfamiliar jealousy bubble in your stomach. Why were you jealous? You were on the arm of one of the most talented and successful actors, and, besides that, you loved your boyfriend.
So why did you want more?
Filming for Winter Soldier started, and you quickly found out your character’s storyline. She was working with Steve and Fury to help in reparations of the New York fiasco from Avengers, and she was the first one to encounter the Winter Soldier. She wouldn’t recognize him and would tell Steve about her encounter with a super-soldier, and Natasha would tell the story of the Winter Soldier, how he was a myth and a ghost. The directors, the talented Russo brothers, had told you that an arc would extend past the movie and into the sequels where Lucy helps break Bucky Barnes from his brainwashing and they would eventually fall in love. But, they assured you, that was several films off. They didn’t even plan for Lucy and Bucky to kiss until the next Captain America movie.
You and Sebastian became quick friends. Despite the metal-like prosthetic and long hair and heavy makeup that he wore on set, you found comfort in him. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt at ease with him. Between takes, you could be found laughing and jokingly sparing with him.
One night, after filming, you called Tom. He was on a press tour for Dark World at the same time, which meant that your schedules never lined up. That night was the first time you had properly talked to him in weeks. “Hi, love,” you said. “How’re you? I miss you like crazy.”
“I miss you too, darling,” Tom told you in his smooth baritone. “I’m alright. Tired as hell, though.”
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Just talk to me,” Tom sighed, and you imagined him leaning his head back. “Tell me about filming.”
“Well,” you began. “A lot more physical than what I’m used to. A lot of running around and everything, ya know? My legs are sore all the time.” You laughed, and you listened to Tom’s scratchy laughter. “But I’m surrounded by great people. The Russos are awesome, and of course, Chris and Scarlet and Samuel are fantastic.”
You hesitated to talk about Sebastian. You hoped that your boyfriend hadn’t caught onto your infatuation with him, but that’s all it was. It was just a crush on a hot guy. “He’s cool,” you said. “Really funny and friendly. Most of my physical scenes are with him.”
“I know you can’t tell me much,” Tom said. “But do you get to snog him?”
You laughed, but bit your cheek all the same. “Not yet,” you chuckled. “That’s not until the next Captain America movie.”
“Oh,” Tom said quickly. “I was joking, but… Do you and Sebastian have any scenes like that?”
“Not in this movie, love,” you assured him. “Are you jealous?”
“Just a bit,” Tom admitted. “I just wish that it was me that you were kissing.”
You sighed. “That’s the nature of our jobs, huh?” you said. “I wish I was kissing you too.”
Tom was quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, “I think maybe we should take a break.”
You wanted to be shocked, but you knew that it was coming. It was several months in the making and, with nothing concrete keeping you two together, it was inevitable. You weren’t hurt at all. “Me too,” you said softly. “We just… I can’t do long distance. It sounds cliche, but it’s not you, Hidds.”
“Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder,” Tom sighed. “But…”
You nodded. “I understand,” you said. “But please, if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call me. Alright? I still care about you loads.”
“Same to you, darling,” Tom whispered. And the call ended.
The next day was weird, to put it plainly. You felt ill all morning and you couldn’t figure out exactly why, but, the moment you saw Sebastian, you understood it. Your boyfriend’s jealousy was powerful. As much as Tom wanted to blame it on something else, you knew that it was the green monster that had prompted the break up. “Hey,” Sebastian said cheerfully, placing a playful jab to your arm. “You seem tired.”
“Gee, what a nice thing to say to a lady,” you chuckled. “No, I’m just…” You sighed. “Tom and I broke up last night. I’m a little weird today.”
Sebastian’s face soured. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “You guys seemed so happy together.”
You shrugged. “We were,” you said. “‘Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder’... But I guess it doesn’t.”
Sebastian frowned deep, and you pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m really fucking sorry,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” you said, pulling out of his strong grip. Even without the actual metal arm, he was strong as hell. “Just a hug is enough.”
“I’m glad I can do that,” Sebastian said. His eyes sparkled, and he added, “I understand what you’re going through. Jennifer and I broke up a few weeks before filming started.”
“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Seb! I had no idea! I’m so sorry.”
Sebastian shrugged. “It was for the best,” he said. The hug had yet to break, but you didn’t mind. Even through the layers of his costume, you could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat on your cheek, and it was soothing.
Filming finished several weeks after your breakup with Tom, and then it was time for your own press tour. Marvel paired you with Scarlet for most press junkets, but sometimes you were put with Sebastian. Those days were your favorite, mostly because absolutely no work got done. You two were forever laughing and making fun of each other, and you always saw edits of your interviews on social media.
Finally, the premiere came. You and Sebastian had already agreed to be each other’s dates, but you were blown away by him. His hair was short and styled, and he looked breathtakingly handsome in his expensive black suit and matching black tie. “Oh my fucking God,” Sebastian laughed when he saw you, though. “You look… Holy shit. So beautiful.”
“Oh, God, stop,” you groaned. Your dress was a beautiful thing, custom Dior, red silk that hugged your body just right, and you shivered when Sebastian’s warm fingers trailed down your exposed back. “You look even better.”
“Well, that’s not possible,” Sebastian scoffed. “You’re gonna steal the show.”
“When I’m next to you?” You asked. “Everyone’s gonna be focused on your pretty blue eyes.”
Sebastian smiled softly, his hand finally settling on the small of your back. “I have something for you,” he said gently.
“Oh, Seb!” you groaned. “You did not buy me something. You know I hate that!”
“Aw, c’mon, you’re gonna love it,” Sebastian said, and he reached into a pocket inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a small box, just big enough for a pair of earrings or something equivalent, and he opened it. You gasped. A ring. Silver metal, two diamonds with a ruby nestled in the middle. It was dainty and gorgeous, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes.
“You piece of shit,” you sniffled. “I just had my makeup done and now you’re ruining it!” You hugged him all the same, though, and you whispered in his ear, “It’s so gorgeous, Seb. Thank you.”
When you pulled out of the hug, you looked at Sebastian, admiring him. He was truly a gorgeous man, and you felt your chest grow hot at the look in his eyes. Were his pupils blown from love? Lust? Something else entirely?
He answered the question. Sebastian placed his hand on your cheek and tugged you into a kiss, the hand on your back pulling you in against his body, and you held onto the back of his neck. He was everything you thought he would be: his lips were soft and tasted so nice, like cinnamon and whisky and all things wonderful, and, when the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against yours. “I…” he started. “I’m sorry, Y/N, that was-- I shouldn’t have--“
“Stop,” you whispered firmly. You knew that Sebastian, the man you were able to call your best friend, was prone to anxiety, and you didn’t want a single anxious thought about you to cross his mind. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t kissed me, I would have kissed you. Thank you.”
You saw Sebastian’s hands shaking as he slid the ring onto your middle finger, and you smiled at how perfectly it fit. “Bucky,” you whispered, admiring the ring. “Silver and red… Right?”
“Glad you caught that,” Sebastian chuckled. “Look, I know that I’m just your date, but I just really like you. I feel stupid because I’m so nervous about it, but… Seeing you upset over Tom just made me feel so horrible. I never want to see you like that again, and if I can help to make your days better, then I want to. Can I?”
You touched your hand to his cheek, and you nodded. “Of course,” you told him. “I’d love nothing more, Seb.”
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remember, forever. (17)
↳ kageyama tobio x f!reader
description: in which the boy you’ve loved for years unexpectedly becomes your baby daddy. the catch? he’s in love with someone else.
genre: angst, cheating, unrequited love
a/n: in spain but without the s
Mornings never felt so good until you started waking up with the person you were going to marry.
You wished the world could just stop for a minute so you could stare at your husband-to-be all day. It was kind of cute how he would still prop his arm on the side of his head when he slept. Just like back in high school, some things never really changed.
You traced the bridge of his nose and kissed the tip of it.
“Love?” You caressed his cheek. “Wake up. You have a practice match today.”
He didn’t budge.
Sometimes it really was difficult to wake him up when he was in a deep slumber, but you had to start learning how you should do it. After all, your mornings would always be next to him now.
With eyes still closed, he stirred from his sleep and caged you under his arm.
You suppressed a giggle. “Baby, wake up. I have to get to work.”
“Five more minutes,” he spoke in a raspy morning voice.
You glanced at the clock and saw that it was already 7:30am. You had to be at work at 9:00am.
“I’m gonna be late,” you told him, softly. “It’s my last day at work before my leave.”
His eyes remained shut. “They’ll understand.”
You sighed and decided to pull your best card. “If you wake up now, we can shower together.”
Like an alarm clock, his eyes shot wide open.
“Okay.” He sat upright and yawned while stretching his long limbs. What a dork.
“You’re unbelievable,” you remarked, laughing at the fact that he’d wake up too soon just for that. “Carry me out of bed?”
He smiled upon looking at your face and pulled you for a hug. You simply just melted in his arms.
“Can’t ask for better mornings,” was the first thing he said before feathering kisses on your cheek. He then placed a loving hand on your bump. “Morning to my little boy.”
You wanted more mornings like these. You wanted to keep waking up to him. This was all you ever wanted and dreamed of. Him.
He leaned in to peck your lips.
“You silly.” You put an arm around his neck before he got up and carried you bridal style.
When you reached the bathroom, he carefully sat you on the vanity and you gently stroked his cheek.
“I’m gonna win against Hinata,” he announced, touching your thighs.
You placed a hand on his toned chest. “Confident much?”
“Yeah, I have my lucky charm right here,” he said, grinning. “And also my little boy.”
You smiled and suddenly felt a slight pain on your lower abdomen. “Oh, your little boy can hear you. He’s moving again.”
He looked at you and then to your bump. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” you admitted. “He’s growing too fast.”
Was it possible to be in love with someone you haven’t even met? Because you wished your baby could see how much the two of you adored him.
“My baby,” you cooed, rubbing your growing tummy.
Tobio placed his ear on your belly while you played with his hair. “Don’t hurt mommy too much. When you grow up, you’re going to protect her and be her knight in shining armor.”
You chuckled softly. “Oh my god, I just remembered how Oikawa said people would call our baby the Prince of the Court.”
Honestly, Oikawa never ceased to make you laugh.
Kageyama kissed your bump. “I’ll teach you some hacks when you grow up,” he said, speaking to the baby. “Rule one, be the best at what you do. Rule two, treat a girl right. Rule three... Daddy is better than Tooru Oikawa.”
You playfully rolled your eyes and pulled him up.
“You,” you kissed him, “are the cutest.”
flashback - Karasuno
“I don’t understand this,” Kageyama complained, scratching his head as he looked at the sheet of paper on his desk.
You sat closer to him. “Which word?”
You were tutoring him for his upcoming English test which, unfortunately, he was struggling with. The deal was, he had to pass the exam so that the principal would let them go to the Tokyo Training Camp. Knowing Kageyama, he would do whatever it took to be there.
“This.” He pointed to the scribblings on the paper. “In...fa...”
“Infatuation,” you read the English word with the perfect American accent.
Tobio looked up at you, impressed. “What does that mean?”
You stared at his eyes, feeling your heartbeat slowing down. “It means...” You took a gulp. “It’s the intense feeling of admiration towards someone or something.”
For a brief moment, you looked at each other’s eyes. He didn’t speak a word and you also remained silent like you were attempting to read one another.
You wanted to tell him that he was your infatuation and that your feelings for him were the best example to make him understand the word.
He cleared his throat and blinked a couple of times. His cheeks became a vivid shade of pink. “So, I’m infatuated with volleyball? Is that the right sentence?”
Of course, he would say volleyball.
“Yep,” you answered. “Or like, you have an infatuation for volleyball. That can be an alternative sentence, too.”
He nodded, avoiding your gaze. You hated that you made him awkward, but at the same time it was an adorable sight.
You looked outside the school’s window and saw some of your classmates running around. They were just so carefree as if they didn’t have things to worry about.
Although you were just teenagers, you already wondered what your future would be like. You wondered if your life would be a fairytale or if you would have a tragic fate.
“How do you see yourself,” you opened up, looking back at him. “Maybe twenty years from now?”
Kageyama took his time to think and your eyes were once again locked with his deep blue orbs. “I’ll be playing at the Olympics as a starting setter for Japan.”
Gosh, it was always about volleyball.
“You definitely will,” you agreed without a doubt. “But how about your personal life?”
He merely shrugged. “Be married? Have kids. I haven’t thought about it.”
“I have,” you said, dreamily. “Okay don’t laugh but I see myself living at a nice house with my husband and two kids.”
You expected he would call you crazy but he said the complete opposite. “I can see that happening.”
I want it with you, you thought.
“Miss, we’re gonna miss you so so much.” Sua had been sulky since the morning you came to the office and you felt really bad for her.
You sent her a reassuring smile. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll still be back. Just make sure you guys will be nice to Ayane, okay?”
“We’ll visit you sometimes,” Nozomi, another one of your editorial assistants, promised you. “Take good care of your health, miss. We can’t wait to see the baby.”
You rubbed your belly out of instinct. You felt happy hearing how excited most people were to see your baby and it was making your heart all warm and fuzzy.
He was so loved.
Right after you said your goodbyes to your co-workers, you made sure to leave all of them a small token of appreciation.
Everyone at work had been so welcoming to you that you didn’t have a problem working there at all. Of course there were times where work could get really stressful, but everyone had been treating you with so much respect. It was the perfect definition of a non-toxic environment.
“Motherhood is tough, but definitely worth it,” your manager told you as she walked you to the lobby. “I’m sure your fiancé will take good care of you either way.”
It sounded so beautifully right.
“We’re both very excited,” you said, lovingly stroking your bump.
My cute baby would finally have all of mommy and daddy’s attention.
“I am excited for you, too,” she replied, meeting your enthusiasm. “Well, make sure you’re healthy until your due date, okay? I’ll check on you from time to time.”
You gave your sincerest gratitude for her kind wishes and for just being such a wonderful manager to work with. You would never forget how she would always trust you with the biggest projects or that time she defended you from Lara’s harsh critiques.
Somehow, you realized Aunt Evie was right. There really were people who did appreciate you more than you thought.
You decided to wait on the building’s lobby after your manager left. Tobio promised he would pick you up and take you out to see a movie after the match and you just couldn’t wait to see him again.
As if on cue, your phone buzzed from your bag and you checked to see a message from your fiancé.
Tobio: I’m gonna be a little late today but I’ll pick you up soon as I get off practice
Tobio: I love you
You smiled, feeling the sweet tingles in your heart before responding to him.
You: It’s okay, my love. I might just lookaround some stuff for our baby while we wait for you :)
Yup, might as well kill the time by checking some cute items you can get for your little boy. It became one of your favorite things to do lately. For a pregnant woman, it was a healthy excercise for the mind and soul.
You finally managed to get up from your seat and left the building at once. It was a cold, gloomy day outside but that wouldn’t stop you from walking around.
However, you became static as soon as your eyes landed on the person in front of you.
“It’s been awhile.”
There, Tobio’s mother stood with an ice cold gaze that sent you to the depths of hell.
The anxiety in your heart didn’t stop as you sat at the restaurant in front of Kageyama’s mother.
She had a silk Dior blazer hanging just above her shoulders while she sat at the most perfect posture you’ve seen from anyone. She was very regal indeed, but also very intimidating.
So many things were running through your head; why is she here? What does she have to say? Why did she want to meet me personally?
She cleared her throat, cutting you off from your trance.
You looked at her as she looked you.
Tense. Fierce. Menacing.
Her eyes reminded you of a viper that was about to strike its prey.
“Suzue Matsui,” she spoke.
You blinked in confusion. “I-I’m sorry?”
“Your mother,” she answered, keeping her gaze frigid. “That’s the name of your mother.”
It can’t be...
This was the first time you’ve ever heard of your mother’s name and you didn’t know what to feel. You had never been given this information before.
“How did you—” You faltered, swallowing your unease. She placed a document in front of you—a document containing your mother’s personal profile.
You opened the file to see her. Your mom. She looked just like you.
Your knees started to shake.
You never thought that Tobio’s mother would go out of her way to make such intensive research about you.
“Your mother was a secretary who had an affair with your father. She didn’t live with anyone. Her parents were gone, she didn’t have any siblings. She left you with your father after you were born because she couldn’t give you a better life.”
Each word that came out of her mouth sent a thousand knives to your heart.
Your hands joined your knees from shaking. You just couldn’t process all these information so suddenly.
“I-I have been looking for her,” you cried, feeling the pain on your chest. “All my life I’ve wanted to meet her. Please, please tell me where my mom is. I’m begging...”
“There is no use to look for someone who’s already dead.” Kageyama’s mom kept a heartless expression. “She took her own life two months after she gave birth to you.”
You refused to believe it.
No, you refused to believe what she was saying.
How could you live like this after knowing that the reason you never met your mother was because she killed herself?
You were responsible for her death. If you didn’t come into her life, she wouldn’t have done that to herself.
Kageyama’s mom narrowed her stare at you. “Just like her, your only value is to give birth to the child and disappear from our lives.”
You felt a pang on your chest that you almost ripped the document from your hand.
“What do you mean?” you spoke through gritted teeth.
She wanted you to disappear. That was how far she wanted you off her life. She wanted to eliminate you completely.
Her gaze became more hostile. “Leave the child to us. We’ll take care of him and provide him with the future he needs. Tobio will continue with his life without you.”
You held on to your bump protectively. Just how much did this woman hate you that she was doing all this?
She was a mother, too. How did she have the heartlessness to do all this?
You didn’t want to believe that she was in any way related to Tobio, because she was evil. Not even Miwa was like her.
“Wh-Why are you doing this?” you shakily asked.
She sighed in exasperation, looking at you from head to toe.
“Our Tobio deserves a woman he can be proud of,” she spoke with venom in her words.
You lost words to say.
She was right. Tobio did deserve a woman he could be proud of. He deserved someone better than you. Someone his own parents would welcome in their lives as their daughter-in-law.
You fit none of those criterias, but when he told you he loved you, you only wanted to believe him.
So no matter what anyone said, you would never give up on him.
Especially not when Tobio had truthfully opened his heart to you. He was the only person you could ever trust your heart into.
“No offense,” you said to her, keeping a guarded stance despite the amount of emotional suffering you were feeling. “I want to hear those words coming from Tobio instead of you.”
“I know what’s good for him. He’s my son!” she spat, furiously. “You’re in no position to act so important.”
What did you ever do to her?
What did you ever do wrong?
You prepared to get up. “I’m sorry. If you truly know what’s good for him, you shouldn’t be doing this.” You wiped your eyes and left.
You may have acted brave in front of Tobio’s mother, but as soon as you left, you were drowning in your own puddle of tears.
For a million reasons.
It hurt because it made you realize that you would never be fully accepted into his life. That you would always be considered an outsider.
You just wanted to love him and be a good partner, but the people around you just didn’t think you could ever be good enough. They always had something to say. They always tried to separate you.
And even more, the things you learned about your mom crushed your soul.
Knowing the fact that she was already deceased all this time just shattered you. It finally made sense why your father couldn’t let you meet her or at least know where she was.
Because she didn’t exist anymore.
She only waited to bring you into this life before putting an end into hers. She loved you enough to let you live, even without her.
You didn’t care that you were quietly sobbing while walking towards the street. You cried so much that you’ve had people look at your way as if they were concerned.
You just continued walking while processing all these negative thoughts in your head. It was eating you alive.
And by the time you finally reached the pedestrian crossing, your phone started ringing.
Tobio is calling...
You struggled to breathe, wanting to press the green button but you felt a sharp agonizing pain on your stomach.
The pain was so tremendous that you didn’t notice the hot rush of blood dripping down your leg.
You collapsed and yelped in pain. “H-Help.”
Your vision began to go hazy and you could hear people rushing to your aid.
“Oh my God!”
“Miss, are you okay?”
“Somebody call an ambulance!”
You held onto your belly and shrieked at the excruciating pain. It felt like someone was ripping your stomach out of you and you were losing all of your remaining energy at trying to withstand the pain.
“P-Please—” You couldn’t breathe. “My baby.”
Your vision was blurring out even more and your hearing was so clouded that you could barely understand what they were saying. All you kept muttering was for them to save your baby repeatedly.
Please, save my baby. Please.
That was the last thing you could remember before you had completely shut down.
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Mama & babys
Summary: requested by lovely anon:
Chris Evans x reader, where there married and she’s a super model, she’s pregnant like 8 months and is having a photo shoot for some popular brands while popping, she’s also has some photos for pregnancy photos and it goes trending everywhere, and that Chris has a live and is saying that he’s proud and happy and that he’s lucky to have a wife that’s a hit mama
Chris E x reader where she’s a super model and after giving birth a few months ago, the baby is 2 months old and they take him for a mini photoshoot and is posted all over social and trending of how adorable the baby’s are, also lots of big brands since the reader is a model gave clothes or baby gifts to Chris and y/n along with baby on their new journey ☺️
If you are doing request and have time... could you do Chris E. x reader, could you do where reader is a super model well know and doing a pregnancy photo shoot cause Gigi’s hadid photoshoot are all up on my page ☺️
Title: Mama and baby
Pairing: Chris evans x pregnant! Reader, dad! Chris
masterlist | request open!
Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comment and reblog welcome!
You stood in the center of the photoshoot set hand grasping Your 8 month bump. You were standing in a dress that hugged your bump perfectly. Your makeup light but beautiful and your made by Christina Dior, hair styled just the way you liked it. You felt like a princess which was rare. You never felt the way you were feeling right now.
"can you look at the camera y/n?" You turned your head, looking at the camera. The photographer snapped a few pictures of you. after changing your pose again, you felt a kick against your stomach.
Your little boy was wide awake and it made you smile. You placed your hand were you felt the kick. Again Your bub kicked. Your heart fluttered. He only did that when Chris was whispering softly against your belly at night reading a book to him.
It still felt surreal that you were going to have a baby. You and Chris have only been married for a year and you don't expect to get pregnant so fast (well Chris couldn't keep his hands off of you). But you did and it was amazing.
You were also happy that you were having a boy. When you and Chris didn't know the gender of your baby you both would tease each other about it.
You laid in bed, the stripped comforter covering your body. Chris stood on his side of the bed checking his phone one last time before he fell asleep.
"you know we're going to have a boy right?" You looked up at Chris seeing a smile creep up on his face. You both have been talking about the gender of your baby every night. This was a never ending topic.
"yeah no. Were having a princess."
He put his phone on the charger before he slipped under the covers with you. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Chris placed his hand on your upper thigh, stroking it slowly. You placed your head into his chest feeling his heart beating against his chest.
“how do you know we’re going to have a girl huh?” you tilt your head slightly. chris sucked his breath, “well when ever i talk to her, she gets really excited so definitely a girl.”
you laughed dryly, placing your head back against his chest. “whatever you think chris.”
end of flashback
after finding out that you’ll be having a boy, you happily rubbed it in his face. He hated it but he also loved seeing you so happy about a boy.
You were snapped out of your daydreaming by your name being called. You looked up to see Chris walking towards you. You grinned as he stopped in front of you. "Hi beautiful." He kissed your cheek, chuckling softly.
"what are you doing here?" You asked as he pulled away. "Well," Chris started. "I wanted to see you and our bub." He placed his warm hand on your bump, smiling when he felt a kick.
"do you want to take some pictures with me and the little guy?" You took his hand as you took a step back, creating a space between the both of you. Chris shook his head, "no. Maybe next time. I just bought you some lunch and I wanted to see you."
You nodded, "alright, well I'm going to keep posing." You closed the space in between you both kissing him. "I'll see you later."
Chris smiled, before muttering 'I love you'. He let go of your hand before he walked back to the exit. You started to pose again. Before chris walked out he said one last thing that made you chuckle.
"work it baby."
A few weeks after your shoot, the pictures were posted. The world knew you were pregnant but that didn’t stop people from marveling over your body. It wasn’t just fans either. chris was loving how beautiful you looked. Every time he came across the pictures he couldn’t help the smile on his face, and wonder how he got so lucky.
He also couldn’t help but tell the world how happy he was either. The day after the pictures dropped he did a live telling everyone how proud he was of you. He updated everyone on the little guy before he poured his heart in soul into telling everyone how he felt.
“gosh I feel so lucky to have y/n in my life. she’d stunning, sexy, funny, dorky, everything I wanted in a wife. She’s so happy to be a mom to our little guy and he’s not even here yet. I can’t wait for our him to come and watch him grow up with such an amazing mom.” Chris exhaled loudly, running his hands over his beard. “I can’t wait.”
After talking a little more about you, he ended the live. Chris didn’t notice but you were watching the live in the room beside his. you were smiling so much that it hurt. Chris walked in as you turned off your phone smiling at him.
“did you mean everything you said?”
Chris smiled as he got in bed with you. “yes, I mean every word.” he laid back against the headboard, breathing out. “I’m so lucky to have to you” he kissed the top of your head. you chuckled softly. you were so lucky to have him.
3 weeks later you and Chris had a healthy boy named Charlie. He was the light of both of your lives. every day you would wake up to Chris having a full on conversation with Charlie even though he was sleeping most of the time. It was funny and cute at the same time.
You both wanted him to stay young forever but unfortunately he couldn’t. Before you knew it he was 2 months old and a very energetic 2 month old. He loved being around you and Chris and couldn’t contain the gummy smile when he saw you both.
He also loved the camera. When you went to do shoots he was there with you and also Chris. Of course you had to take pictures with him in some very popular brands. Charlie was smiling and cooing so much at you and chris. He would look up at you every now and then, smiling, admiring your beauty. both you and chris posted a few Instagram for the rest of the world to see how cute he is.
(these kinda vibes)
Of course the internet buzzed, talking about how cute he is. Your little guy was famous and he doesn’t even know it yet.
I hate my writing 😔 But I hope you all enjoyed it
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Sugar and Spice
Genre: fluff, attempt at humor
Warnings: mentioned alcohol drinking
Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | masterlist
A/N: I am blown away by how many people wanted to be tagged in this. I hope you all will like the update! Just to be clear: I sometimes refer to Jeno as ‘the boy’ in this but that does not take away from the fact that he is a legal, consenting adult in this and in real life for that matter!
This is mostly laying down backstory yet again, I’m sorry it’s not really all that interesting (yet).
Taglist: @byunniebaekhyunnie, @yutalove, @luvlyjaemin, @jenodaze, @astil-be, @btshook, @woahhwa, @yukheisworld, @markistheloveofmylife
The next day began way too early for Jeno’s liking, his alarm blasting through his phone’s speakers. Groaning loudly the boy stretched on his bed, his foot only barely missing his cat that was curled up on his blanket.
“Good morning, Bongsik,” he mumbled, throwing his thin blanket back to swing his legs over the ledge of his bed, knowing that he’d fall asleep again if he didn’t immediately get up and unlike some of his friends, he actually visited his morning classes out of fear of missing out. Rubbing a hand over his face and his eyes to shake the sleep off, Jeno turned off his alarm and quickly checked his notifications. In their friend’s group chat, the boys had gone on what seemed yet another Mark-bullying spree for an unknown reason if Jeno didn’t want so scroll through hundreds of messages.
One more notification from yesterday caught his eye: It was from his potential benefactor.
I’ll try to meet you in your dreams, baby boy.
I’m really looking forward to tomorrow.
When he had read over the two little messages, Jeno felt his ears heat up. How could just a couple of words turn him into such a shy and blushing mess?
His hands hovered over the keyboard for a while but his still half asleep mind couldn’t come up with anything witty or cute, so he closed out of the app again and padded over into his little kitchen area where he poured himself a bowl of cereal and put out some dry food for Bongsik. The kitten wouldn’t get up yet but later when she decided she had slept enough, Jeno wanted to make sure she had something to eat.
Once he had finished his breakfast and freshened up in the community bathroom, he stood in front of his small wardrobe, completely lost as to what he should wear for today. The bistro had looked rather fancy so he was inclined to pull out one of his two button ups. But that would look rather awkward if he showed up in class and to his job in the record store dressed like that.
Then a great idea shot through his head. Donghyuck had been to one to get him into this situation, so he should better help him out now. Glancing at the clock on his wall, he knew that his friend was most likely still sleeping as he liked to skip his morning classes. Grinning, Jeno quickly dialed his friend’s number and waited for him to pick up.
“What kind of psychopath is calling me in the middle of the night?” Donghyuck’s gravely morning voice sounded through the speaker.
“A wonderful morning to you too, Hyuck,” Jeno giggled.
A loud groan was heard from the other side of the line, followed by shuffling around.
“What do you want, Lee?”
“I need you help Hyuck.”
“Are you sure you need it right now and not in like 3 hours?”
“Pretty sure,” Jeno replied, popping the p sound, “I have a date after class and I have no idea what to wear.”
“You have a what?”
“A date Hyuck,” Jeno rolled his eyes, “I signed up on that page and someone messaged me.”
“Holy shit, you’re gonna get laid,” Donghyuck cursed, suddenly sounding way more awake than he had been just a minute before.
“I don’t even know her Hyuck. She just wanted to take me out to lunch to get to know me.”
“Jeno is finally getting his dick wet, I can’t believe it,” his friend sighed dramatically.
“Am not,” Jeno argued, “Now tell me what to wear so I don’t look out of place at class, at work and in a French bistro.”
“Just wear what you always wear, I don’t see the issue.”
“It’s fancy, Hyuck. I am pretty sure I can’t even afford the water they serve there.”
“Are any of your skinny jeans clean?”
“Yeah, I either have black or light washed,” Jeno answered after checking. Damn he really needed to make a trip to the Laundromat.
“If you’re going for hot and edgy, do the black ones with Jaemin’s turtleneck you still have-“
“That shirt is way too tight on me, Hyuck,” Jeno quickly interrupted.
“Hot and edgy like I was saying. Or do the light ones and just a sweater if you want to go for cute and soft.”
Contemplating his choices, Jeno rummaged through his drawers before his eyes fell on a baby blue turtleneck he hadn’t worn in forever. It had been a birthday present from his mom, back when they were on speaking terms. Sighing deeply, he pulled it out and inspected it. It was neat and clean and should still accentuate his brought shoulders.
“I think I found something, thanks Hyuck,” he smiled.
“Great, now please never call me before 10 ever again,” his friend grunted and immediately cut the line.
Jeno could only blink at the cracked screen of his phone and chuckle before he changed into his outfit for the day. He looked good if he dared to say so himself. Put together but not overdressed. The turtleneck was slightly too big on him since he had lost quite some muscle in comparison to when he had first gotten it but it looked kind of cute like this. His hair was a whole other mess though but that was nothing he could change now except if he wanted to use a pair of kitchen scissors to cut his bangs himself. At least it looked fluffy.
Grabbing his bag, he quickly shoved everything he needed in there before grabbing his keys to head out the door, a slight spring in his steps. He was looking forward to today.
During his whole morning of classes, Jeno physically could not sit still, either bouncing his leg or fidgeting with his pens, annoying whoever had made the mistake to sit close to him. He didn’t even know where all this adrenaline in his body came from that made him buzz in excitement and forget about how tired he actually was.
He counted the minutes until the big clock on the wall finally indicated that his last class was over, so he could sprint out of the door and over to the little bistro where he would meet his potential benefactor.
The weather was rather nice this afternoon when you found yourself in front of your favorite little bistro where you would meet your potential sugar baby in a bit.
Straightening out the burgundy pantsuit you had worn to your short trip to the office, you sat down on one of the little tables on the small porch area in front of the store and put your new Dior bag up on the table.
One of the waiters quickly approached you and asked if you just wanted to order the usual which you gladly accepted.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your nerves. If you were honest, you didn’t know what had gotten into you when you had set up your profile on that website on a whim on the plane back from France to your home. The loneliness had just been overbearing when you had seen the cozy couple just a few seats in front of you that seemed to come back from their honeymoon. Due to how demanding your job had been the past couple of years, your relationships hadn’t lasted long and you honestly had given up on dating all together. And mindless hookups with guys that thought way too highly of themselves and hadn’t properly satisfied a woman in their life just weren’t doing it for you anymore.
It was a demanding career you had chosen, especially when you had to continuously fight for your spot in your workplace for the first years. Now that you were one of the shareholders of your estate agency, that worry had vanished all together and the only annoying parts were the clients and the jetlag when you had to look for estates overseas.
But who were you kidding, you loved your job, if you could you would probably marry your job. The only downside was that there wasn’t really much space for a relationship in your life outside of your job.
That was where a sugar baby might come in quite handy or so one of your colleagues had told you: It was a sort of no-strings-attached arrangement and even if it was weird at first that you would essentially pay another person to spend time with you and even maybe something more if you two were compatible – it would perfectly fit your situation. If you didn’t have time for your sugar baby, they couldn’t be mad or jealous because there were no feelings involved and they got paid anyways. In return you could hope to find a friend or even a lover that would be there for you when you needed them.
The more you thought about it, the better it seemed to be. The money on your bank account wouldn’t stay untouched until you chose to buy another house or apartment complex to rent them out and you could potentially make the life of a struggling student a little better.
Sighing, you took a sip of the hot beverage the waiter had silently put down in front of you while you had been lost in your thoughts. Should you send your potential sugar baby another message so he could find you more easily? Would he be able to recognize you?
You quickly took out your phone to see if he had maybe already texted to see that it was already a couple of minutes past the time you had chosen to agree to meet up. Had you been stood up?
No, maybe his bus had just run late or something. Groaning, you ran a hand through your hair that wasn’t strictly held back for once. And what if you had tried to look a little nice and less strict than you usually did when you were at work?
To pass the time, you clicked on Jenonono’s profile again to read through it once more. It really didn’t say much about him apart from that he was a student at the local university and his age. But what had really captured your attention was the second picture he had chosen: His hair was dyed a light blonde that was almost white and his sides were shaved. That alone with his chiseled jaw and the toned arms was incredibly attractive but what had really made something tug in your chest was the smile he had on his face. You could almost hear him laugh melodically (besides having never heard his voice) while his eyes were curved into the prettiest eyesmile you had ever seen. You really hoped he would smile that smile for you today.
As if on cue you saw someone run towards the bistro, hair messy and a backpack slung over one of their shoulders. Chuckling, you watched the boy for a while as he looked around with wide eyes and tried to catch his breath. When his eyes met yours, you held up your manicured hand to give him a friendly wave to beckon the boy over. His eyes widened for a second before he rubbed his palms on his jeans and slowly made his way over to your table.
“Hi,” you smiled as he slowly sat down, putting his chewed up backpack on the ground next to his stool.
“H-Hello,” he stuttered, a light blush dusting his pale cheeks, “I’m sorry I’m late. One of my professors asked me to talk to him after class and-“ he sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, “Yeah...”
“It’s alright,” you reassured him, “Shitty day?”
“Not until that moment,” the boy confessed, a lopsided smile on his face. Not quite the bright smile he had in his photo but it was a step in the right direction.
“I hope it was nothing too serious.”
“Just grades and all that. He’s not particularly happy on how I am doing overall,” he sighed, “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t ramble about how messy my life is. I haven’t even introduced myself. God, I’m so stupid-“
You couldn’t hold back the giggle that bubbled over your lips. He was even cuter than you had already thought he was.
“It’s alright, I haven’t introduced myself either,” you reassured him again and did just that.
“I’m Jeno if you haven’t guessed that already,” he spoke softly, nervously fidgeting in his seat.
“What a beautiful name.”
“It’s nothing,” he blushed again.
After that a slightly awkward silence settled over you, where neither of you knew how to start up a conversation.
“This is a little awkward, huh?” You chose to ask in the end, making Jeno nod his head which made his bangs bounce slightly.
“I haven’t done this in a while...”
“Gone on a date? How’s that? I could imagine the girls waiting in line to get a date with you,” you mused.
“Well,” Jeno started, rubbing the back of his head, “I don’t have much time for dating. I work a lot between classes.”
“That sounds familiar,” you chuckled, “What do you work then?”
“Oh this and that, you know,” he waved it off, “I have to go to a little record store in like an hour or so.”
“So we don’t have much time.”
“I’m sorry,” he immediately apologized, his eyes cast to the intricate designs on the table.
“No, don’t apologize,” you soothed him, “We just have to make the best of the time we have then. Have you eaten anything yet?”
Shaking his head, Jeno shot you a weak smile.
“Then let me change that at least, they make really delicious sandwiches here. Anything you can’t eat?”
“No, I’m not picky,” the boy said while you called the waiter from earlier over to order one of your favorites off the menu for Jeno, noticing the deep blush that spread over his cheeks.
“You really don’t have to,” he mumbled.
“But I want to. I asked you to meet me here after all, so it’s my treat.”
Soon after you watched him basically devour the whole thing in seconds and washing it down with his coffee.
“You sure have an appetite,” you smiled, sipping your own drink.
“I haven’t eaten since my cereal this morning and had classes back to back,” he tried to explain himself, scratching his neck in an embarrassed gesture.
“I get that, sometimes it’s so busy that you forget to do the most basic things like eat and drink. What do you study?”
“I’m trying to become a vet,” Jeno said, his eyes immediately lighting up as we animatedly talked about all the classes he had to take and how he was excited to not only learn about normal pets but also bigger farm animals and stuff like that. He even told you about the little kitten he had saved off the streets and hid in his dorms even though he had a cat hair allergy.
To say he was absolutely adorable was an understatement. You were completely captured by his way of talking and trying to explain certain ins and outs of his courses and even the practical work he’d be doing later in the semester. He gestured animatedly and smiled his sweet smile you had been yearning to see face to face. It was even more beautiful than in the photo.
“I’m just talking all about myself again, I’m sorry,” he suddenly cut himself off, his eyes wide.
“Don’t stop on my accord,” you smiled, “I enjoy listening to you. You’re very passionate about this.”
“But I know next to nothing about you,” he pressed on, “What do you do for a living?”
“Oh, I’m not that interesting,” you waved it off, “I’m working with real estate; as an agent to search suiting objects for my clients as well as for myself and our firm and I own a couple of buildings in the city and houses and apartments scattered around the world.”
“I get by,” you chuckled when you saw Jeno’s surprised face, “But the work itself isn’t very entertaining when you aren’t into it.”
“How... How did you get into it?”
“Well I have a degree in finances and then it went from there. I did some smart investments and pulled through with some pretty wealthy clients and then one building turned into another. It’s not even nearly as interesting as what you’re doing, darling.”
Shit. The pet name had slipped over your lips before you even had the chance to think about it and you were about to apologize for it if it wasn’t for the rosy color that was dusted over Jeno’s cheeks.
“You seem like a really smart person,” he mumbled quietly, still flustered by the use of the pet name and wringing his hands, “I- I would really like to get to know you more.”
“Me too, Jeno,” you smiled, “But I feel like there was a ‘but’ coming from you.”
“We’ve been talking for an hour already and I kind of need to leave if I want to make it to my shift on time.”
“An hour already?” Throwing a quick glance at your watch, you saw that he indeed was right, “Wow it really didn’t feel like that.”
“Not at all,” he giggled shyly.
“Would you like to try this whole thing?” You asked slowly. How did people usually go about this? Did they just agree to being sugar baby and – you cringed inwardly at the name – sugar mommy? Did you have to have some sort of elaborate contract like they had in movies and books?
“I have never done this before, but I would like to at least try it,” Jeno answered, his eyes still downcast as if he was embarrassed he was even considering this.
“Me neither, I guess we’ll just have to wing it,” you joked and it thankfully got Jeno to loosen up a bit, softly laughing along with you. You quickly pulled out your phone and handed it over to him.
“Just put in your info and I’ll transfer the money as soon as I can. And then we can work on setting up a second meeting.”
“Yeah, yeah sure,” Jeno immediately agreed and scrambled to get out his phone as well. The model was old and the screen was cracked in several different places but it seemed to work just fine when you put in your name and phone number. After debating you added your work number as well because you sometimes weren’t really paying attention to your mobile phone while working and you honestly were a bit desperate to get to know Jeno better.
“I’m really sorry I have to cut this short,” Jeno apologized when you had exchanged your phones again and he was getting up to shoulder his backpack again.
“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled reassuringly, “We’ll figure something out, I’m sure.”
“I- I liked talking to you, a lot,” he confessed.
“Me too, Jeno.”
“I guess I’ll... I’ll call you?”
“Is that a question?” You giggled. This boy was just too cute for his own good.
“No, I- I’ll call you, I promise,” he accentuated his words by nodding his head, making his bangs hop up and down on.
“I’ll look forward to it,” you smiled, leaning back in your chair to look up at him shuffling in his place, “It’s fine Jeno. Don’t get your boss angry because of me. I’ll transfer a fitting amount of money as soon as I have the chance to.”
“Thank you, really.”
“No need to thank me,” you brushed it off, “You’re doing as much for me as I am doing for you. We’re just providing different things.”
“Yeah. I- Ehrm... See you soon?”
“I’ll see you soon Jeno,” you giggled and watched him wave at you before turning around to rush down the street.
God he really was too cute. Sighing, you emptied your cup and called the waiter over to pay. You really hoped this was going to work out between Jeno and you; you were rather fond of his smile and the way he had been animatedly talking. Unlike with other fist dates you had gone to over the last couple of years (which really had been very little), your thoughts hadn’t strayed from him and you hadn’t been bored even when it had been rather awkward in the beginning.
This could be something really great and you couldn’t wait to see him again.
After quickly sprinting down the street and around some corners, Jeno stopped to catch his breath before walking the short way over to the record store at a more reasonable pace, his heart beating furiously in your chest not only because of his little sprint.
This date had gone way better than he had ever imagined it to be. You were not only really nice but also funny and even prettier than you had seemed in your pictures on the site. Jeno felt giddy and very hopeful. Maybe Donghyuck had had a good idea for once in his life.
Should he call him? He still had a little to walk and he itched to tell someone about what had happened. But at the same time he didn’t want to just text in their friend’s groupchat, a little afraid of what the other’s might think of him. Maybe he should just try to lay low for a while, he didn’t even know for sure if this was going to work out.
Fishing his phone out from his pockets, he dialed Donghyuck’s number for the second time that day.
“Who’s disturbing me?” His friend took the call.
“Your bestest friend in the entire world,” Jeno laughed.
“Can’t be, Renjun is in his stupid art class right now and would never call me during.”
“Renjun is your best friend?” Jeno gasped overdramatic, “Alright, then I’ll call Jaemin and tell him about how my date went.”
“Wait, no,” Donghyuck immediately caved in, “I’m all ears bestest friend on the entire planet. Did you get you dick wet yet?”
“Hyuck,” he groaned, “We just talked a lot and she paid for my lunch.”
“Is she loaded?”
Rolling his eyes, Jeno affirmed his friend’s statement. “She works in real estate and apparently owns some buildings in town.”
“Damn, you did good, kid.”
“What do you mean kid? I am literally older than you.”
“Technicalities,” Donghyuck brushed it off, “How much are you getting?”
“She said she’d transfer a suiting amount as soon as she’s got time,” Jeno shrugged.
On the other end of the line, his friend groaned loudly. “Jeno Lee. You better not have sold yourself beneath what you’re worth. If she’s like lowballing you, it’s going to be very hard to negotiate your way out of that.”
Shit. Jeno hadn’t even thought about that. Would she actually do that? How much did he even expect to get in the first place? Fuck. He really hadn’t thought all of this through.
“What would you do without me Jeno?” Donghyuck sighed dramatically.
“It’s going to be fine, Hyuck. She really doesn’t seem like the type to do that. She even listened to me ramble about my studies and even asked questions in between. Like she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say.”
“Because she wants to get in your pants,” his friend scoffed, “That’s what these arrangements are about.”
“Hyuck, we haven’t even spoken about stuff like that. We genuinely had a nice talk and tried to get to know each other a bit better before I had to leave and time really seemed to fly.”
“Just don’t be an idiot and fall for her just because you’re into older woman,” Donghyuck teased which caused Jeno to almost fall over his own feet.
“Donghyuck,” he hissed but his friend only laughed at him.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Jeno.”
“You’re not,” he grumbled.
“Exactly. Just be careful okay? I know I suggested this whole thing but think about it before you do anything with her.”
“Sure, Hyuck. Thank you for looking out for me,” Jeno smiled, “I’ll see you around okay? I gotta work now.”
“Urgh, tell me about it. I let Mark talk me into covering his morning shift tomorrow,” his friend groaned, “On a Saturday.”
“And he still hasn’t realized you’re into him?”
“I’m beginning to think he’s,” Donghyuck cut himself off with fake-gagging, “he’s straight.”
“Don’t say it like it’s a disease,” he laughed, unlocking the record store and switching the sign around to indicate that the shop was open, “I’m straight as well.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Jeno could almost hear his friend rolling his eyes. “I know you didn’t dislike that time you had to kiss Jaemin and don’t-“
“I’m hanging up, byeee,” Jeno laughed and cut the line before Donghyuck could say anything further, stuffing his phone in his backpack and got to work on sorting in the new order of records as well as organizing the aisles because some customers pulled out random records and were unable to use the alphabet to put it back in the right place.
Jeno’s shift went down in a daze, Fridays were usually one of the busier days and when he wasn’t busy helping a customer, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. How you had smiled and nodded your head along when he had explained what courses he was taking and how your eyes had softened when he had told you about Bongsik.
He really hoped he could meet you again soon to get to know you better since he had done most of the talking today which in itself was a little out of character for him. He usually was rather shy around strangers but somehow you had made him feel so comfortable and gave him little encouragements as he was talking that he had forgot all about it, just talking like a waterfall.
In no time he was locking up the shop and rushing home to shove some noodles down his throat – you couldn’t call it eating at the speed Jeno was doing it – and putting out a second bowl of food for Bongsik. He quickly changed his clothes into the ones he wore to work at the noisy bar: a simple black T-Shirt over dark Jeans that he only wore to work as they were stained beyond repair but luckily that got lost beneath the dark lights. He quickly checked his appearance in the mirror and chose to run some gel through is bangs to keep them out of his face. That way he couldn’t hide the bags under his eyes but he hoped girls would find him more attractive like that so he could get some decent tips.
Flying out the door, Jeno just made it in time for his bus because of course he couldn’t refuse his kitten when she had demanded affection.
The club he worked at was a good thirty minute bus drive from his home and he cursed himself when he noticed that he had forgotten his headphones and was therefore stuck with listening to whatever issues the girl sitting next to him had with her boyfriend when honestly it sounded like he didn’t do anything wrong and she was just having attention issues.
Hearing her complain about seriously nothing valid at all, just made Jeno glad that he had a preference for woman a little older than him. He did not have the patience to deal with temper tantrums like this. He’d rather get made fun of by his friends for eternity before having to deal with stuff like this. Sure, girls his age could be all mature and reasonable but there was just something about the thought of a woman who had her life together that was just really attractive to Jeno.
Once he finally got off at his stop, the girl had still not stopped bitching to who he had assumed was her boyfriend. At least Jeno didn’t need to worry about getting tinnitus from the loud music in the club because the girl had already given him one. Straightening out his clothes, he walked by the long queue of people waiting to be let in and through the hidden staff door and quickly took his usual spot behind the bar that was illuminated in neon green, shooting his coworker a quick nod. The owner of the club really took their whole ‘neo’ concept a little far but if it got the money in, Jeno wasn’t about to complain.
Not soon after, the club began to fill up with party guests and Jeno didn’t even have time to think about anything else other than whose order he should take next, going through the motions of pouring drinks like he was on autopilot which he honestly was. He didn’t even know how many shots he had taken with various girls tonight that were trying to get into his pants but never gave him any tips.
When the end of his shift at five in the morning rolled around, he was still decently buzzed. On the bus ride home, the tiredness began to seep into his bones and just like every Saturday morning he questioned how his body was able to hold himself up enough to walk up the set of stairs and get the keys in his lock before he ripped his clothes off of his body and all but collapsed onto his bed.
The last thing he noticed was a soft meow before he felt the warmth of his cat’s body snuggling against his feet and he was out like a light.
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soul mate /ˈsōl ˌmāt/
noun; a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.
✒️ Pairing: Taehyung x reader
✒️ Genre: Fluff
✒️ Word Count: 2.4k
✒️ Warnings: Swearing
A/N: This is my first fic pls be nice AKSDK
You tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Tomorrow was your 21st birthday, the day your soulmate connection would be revealed to you. You’d heard stories from your parents, family friends, and even some of your friends that were a year or two older than you about the different connections. What if you got one that would make it damn near impossible to find them? What if your soulmate was older than you, and already knew, but gave up since you were too young? You sighed and laid flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, giving up on your futile attempts at a decent night's sleep, your mind hot with the different scenarios baking within it.
The next morning, you groaned and begrudgingly swung your legs over the side of your bed, stretching as you opened the curtains, the mid morning sunlight flooding into your room. You cringed slightly at the brightness, your eyes struggling to adjust. Yawning as you walked into your kitchen, deciding on a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Scrolling through your phone as you ate, you smiled as you read the birthday wishes from your friends and family. After replying to as many as you felt like doing, you opened Twitter to see what fresh hell awaited you on your timeline. Surprisingly there wasn't really anything bad being mercilessly tweeted about.
The one thing that caught your eye was the lovely photo on your screen, tweeted a couple hours ago, staring back at you. It was embarrassing how infatuated you were with a certain man by the name of Kim Taehyung. He was the perfect man, in all honesty, by your standards at least. He was devilishly handsome yet charmingly adorable from the tip of his nose down to his toes, the smallest details all adding to the things that caused him to worm his way into your heart.
You smiled as you saved the picture to your camera roll before setting your phone down on the table. Your smile quickly turned into a surprised squeak as you felt an oddly ticklish sensation on your wrist, and you stared down at it in shock. Appearing on your skin before your eyes was writing, but it wasn't just any writing. It was a greeting.
This must be it, your soulmate bond. You didn’t know anyone personally with this particular bond, but you’d read about it through your countless nights of curiosity and excitement driven research.
You nearly tripped on your own feet as you scrambled to find some kind of writing utensil, eager to respond to the stranger. Not just a stranger. Your soulmate. You felt your heart rate quicken just at that thought. You found a pen on your counter, quickly scribbling a response below their message.
“Hello!” You wrote back. Not 30 seconds later, you felt the tickling sensation again, impatiently tapping your pen on the counter as you awaited their response.
“It’s you! You’re finally getting my notes!” You smiled to yourself, your late night suspicion confirming itself. They were definitely older than you, but hopefully not by much. You’d hate if you left your soulmate waiting for too long for you.
“How long have you been trying?” You wrote, a little smaller this time near the ditch of your elbow, so you wouldn’t take up too much valuable space on your skin. You bit your lip as you felt your skin tingle again, hoping it wasn’t too bad-
“Four years” Four years. Four whole years they’d been writing on themselves with no response. You sighed, feeling awful. Well, at least you knew how old they were. Twenty-five, twenty-six tops, if their birthday was coming up sometime soon.
“I'm sorry you waited so long… today is my 21st birthday” you wrote back, twisting your arm at a slightly awkward angle as you did this. You smiled softly, growing familiar with, and anticipating the feeling as they wrote.
“Happy birthday :)” Was written there. You smiled and wrote your thanks, not really sure how to proceed with finding them. You’d read that there were specific guidelines when it came to the different connections, things you weren’t able to do, since that would make finding your soulmate too easy. Things like their exact location, names, things of that nature. The catch is, you were able to reveal that when you were in the same vicinity. As if trying to find them wouldn’t be hard enough.
Over the next month or so, you’d learned that your soulmate was a man that was born in South Korea (you didn’t know how you’d ever be able to swing a trip there, or vice versa). You learned that he enjoyed drawing, painting, photography, singing and dancing. He was fun to talk to (at least until there wasn't any more space on either of your bodies for more ink). He had a pretty time consuming career from what he told you, but he still liked to draw you pictures to wake up to, or write you little good morning messages. You found yourself becoming incredibly fond of him, even without ever seeing his face.
One day, you found yourself staring at your laptop and phone screens, focusing excruciatingly hard on trying to score tickets to see BTS in your city. After nearly missing the opportunity, and a decent amount of money you’d surely have to pull quite a bit of overtime to make up for, you scored a decent seat for their show in a couple months. Eager to share the news with someone, you wrote on your arm.
“I just got tickets to see BTS!!” You wrote with a shaky hand, your already poor penmanship suffering even more. This would be your first time seeing them, seeing the man you’d had your eyes on for so long.
Taehyung smiled when he felt you were writing or perhaps drawing something for him. He loved reading your short messages about your day, getting to know you. Over the past months he was growing more and more impatient, half tempted to fly to the States and wing it. His heart nearly thudded out of his chest when he read what you wrote.
“I just got tickets to see BTS!!”
Holy shit. This was good. This was great, actually. Now he knew you were a fan. Jimin looked over when he saw the stupid grin plastered on his bandmate’s face.
“What is it, Taehyung-ah?” He asked. Taehyung didn’t answer verbally, just angled his arm so Jimin could see what you wrote. He broke into his own smile. “Oh this is good! Maybe you're closer to meeting her than you thought.” He said, patting the younger man’s back. Taehyung smiled with a nod, you being the only thing occupying his mind at the moment.
It was the day of your concert and you could barely contain your excitement. You barely slept the night before, knowing you would be exhausted, but couldn't find it in yourself to care all too much. You’d been waiting for what seemed like forever for this day, and weren't going to let anything, not even your lack of sleep, ruin it for you.
The day seemed to drag even longer than usual, before you figured it was a good time to start getting ready. You got dressed in an outfit that you purchased specifically for this event, a more affordable version of the Dior outfits Rap Line sported during their performances of Tear, and you put on your TaTa headband as the final touch. You know, so everyone knew specifically who you were there for. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, smiling and letting out an excited squeak as you grabbed everything you would need, before you made your way to the venue.
The venue was absolutely packed. There was no way you’d be able to even get any merch without missing half the concert standing in that line. You sighed quietly to yourself and went to your seat, busying yourself with syncing your lightstick so it would light up with everyone else's. You looked around from your seat, in awe about how many people were here. Crazy how many people could fit into one space.
While you waited for the concert to start, you decided to write him a message about how excited you were, and that you would keep him updated throughout the show. You decided to draw a small heart on your hand, in the space between your pointer finger and thumb, just because. You smiled when you saw his words appear on your arm.
“Have fun <3”
Oh, you would. You would have the time of your life. Little did you know, in more ways than one.
Taehyung knew you had to be here somewhere. You just had to be. He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair, effectively rendering his stylist’s hard work useless. He couldn’t help it. Not when he knew his soulmate was in this building. His mind started to race. What if you didn’t want to be with him? What if you liked one of the other members better than him? What if you couldn’t deal with his lifestyle? He was pacing now, and everyone but him seemed to notice.
“Taehyung-ah, relax. I’m sure everything will work out fine.” Namjoon smiled reassuringly. Taehyung nodded and let out a breath, sitting down. They were called to start getting into position, and Taehyung knew he had to do it, now or he wouldn’t have time, and you would slip through his fingers. He pulled out his pen, writing one word on his forearm in larger than usual letters. He put his pen in his pocket, heading to where his microphone and earpieces were waiting for him, hoping you would see his message.
When the concert started, you could barely focus on anything else other than the men on stage in front of you. You felt the familiar tickle on your arm that your soulmate had written you, though you ignored it for the time being. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of Taehyung, witnessing his incredible stage presence and the massive amount of fan service he was giving was mesmerising, to say the least.
When time for the intermission came around, and the VCRs played on the big screens, you took a moment to see what your soulmate wrote to you. You gasped when you saw the big, capital letters spread along the length of your forearm.
There was no way. Absolutely no fucking way. Kim Taehyung was not your soulmate. You had to have been some sort of saint in your previous life to deserve such treatment from the universe. You stared at your arm for a few more seconds in complete disbelief, before taking your pen out of your pocket, writing your name under his on your arm. A minute later, you felt him writing, and you anxiously chewed at your lip as you awaited his response.
“Where are you?”
You hurriedly scribbled your section and seat number, your brain barely able to process what was happening.
Within 5 minutes, there was a man approaching you, asking you to confirm your name. When you did, he told you to come with him, you did without asking any questions. The man led you backstage, and you looked around, frantically trying to find the familiar face in the crowd of stage hands.
When your eyes finally met his, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Was it anxiety? Excitement? A spicy mixture of both? You couldn’t really tell, but there were some things you needed to see. His long legs effortlessly closed the distance between you, until you were standing toe to toe. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, neither of you truly believing you were here at this moment. You studied his face for a moment, then without a word, you took his hands, inspecting them. There it was. You brought your hand up and compared, the tiny heart you drew on your hand matching the one on his. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the messages you’d written to each other throughout the day.
“Y/N…” He said quietly, only loud enough that you could hear. “I finally found you. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
“I can’t believe it’s you.” You said as you looked up at him, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes. He smiled and brought his hand to gently cup your cheek, his thumb lightly brushing against your cheekbone.
“Are you disappointed?” He asked with a chuckle, his tone teasing. You shook your head, letting out a quiet laugh.
“Not even a little bit.” You reassured him, smiling softly. He gave you a toothy grin before leaning down and closing the small space between you, and you couldn’t help but melt when his lips finally met yours. The kiss was soft and careful, as if he was testing the waters. When you pushed slightly against his lips, he deepened the kiss just a little more.
He was the first to pull away, seemingly remembering his surroundings, and you caught the faintest tint of pink creep onto his face. It was almost time for him to go back on stage, and he rested his forehead against yours for a moment, his eyes locked with yours as he intertwined your fingers with his.
“Wait for me? I plan to talk to you for hours, now that I can finally hear your voice.” He said, and you nodded without hesitation. He smiled widely before pressing a kiss to your forehead, jogging off to wherever it was he was needed. You sat on the couch that was there for the members beside the stage, running a hand through your hair. Never in your wildest dreams did you think something like this could happen. Not to you, at least. You felt him writing again, and this time, you paid full attention to the words appearing along your arm.
“I love you.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you read those 3 words, pulling out your pen and writing your response.
“I love you too.” You wrote, carefully, easily readable. Never had you meant something more in your life. You couldn’t wait for him to come back to you, for him to execute his plan. After what felt like a very long time, you couldn’t wait to finally begin your life with the man you happily called your soulmate.
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Hey hope you’re doing well! There’s a really fun video on seokjin myfeels channel where they debate each of the boy’s best bts eras and I wanted to hear your and the community’s thoughts.
By era, I don’t just mean the song/mv, but also the styling, the hair, the clothes, the personality and the vibesss. Here’s the link to the video for reference: https://youtu.be/bSRQI5pUGuo
Since I’m hear I will tell you mine. RM: Dynamite era (hands down!!!) SJ: Mots 7 on/black swan. Y: Fire JH: Fake love PJ: BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS V: Ly her dna JK: Mots 7 on/black swan. All this to say that they look great in every era and this is just for fun and not to single any member out!
Okay, this was such a fun video to watch 😂
They were having fun, I love to see it! Lol
Again, my love/hate relationship with picking favorites of things. Lol these more lighthearted questions are nice in between my super long posts where I dive deeper into things though.
Let's go in Fanchant order, shall we? I'm picking top 3 and you can't stop me. I'm so bad at choosing one. I'm double biased for a reason. So here we go!
Life Goes On era
Soooo just the year of 2020 was Namjoons year for me I guess 🙈 look he just has been exuding power lately. Maybe it's all that time in the gym. Who knows. But it's working for him. And that life goes on video call thing they did 👀 his MIGHT have been my favorite. Lol I can't wait to see him on stage with an audience again
Persona/LY tour era
Purple hair Jin in late 2019 will ALWAYS be my favorite look on him. It's superb. The only thing that can compete for me is his longer black hair. And he was total artwork in Wings era, not to mention popping off in his solos and the BU
Agust D era
Mic Drop era
Yes, I know that's 4. Leave me alone! He is my bias, you are lucky I didn't pick ALL of them. Agust D mixtape era gives me SO MUCH. Literally so much. That's all I can say. Sorry. Daechwita gave me my favorite Yoongi looks ever. Again, not sorry. Yoongi killed it during Mic Drop era. Forever captured my attention. His swag was off the charts. Silver hair Yoongi during On in front of the drum line telling me to win no matter what? Perfection.
Mic Drop era
Airplane pt. 2/Hope world era
Mic Drop and Airplane pt 2 are technically OT7 songs, but if we are honest those are Hobi's performances. No one can take their eyes off him during those songs no matter who your bias is! LY: Tear was Hobi world domination time. Hobi in Dior, the confidence, the swag, the power, the emotion. Yeah, he OWNS me that era.
Black Swan/MOTS7 era
Wings era (yes, including BST)
Fake Love era
Boy with Luv era
Yes yes, I already know how many there are here. SHUSH. Black Swan was Jimins song and no one can convince me otherwise. He owns it. I'm including all of Wings, not just BST because his concept photos, his grace, his solo. Everything about the era breathed a special bit of life into him. Fake Love Jimin was so powerful and fluid! I love EVERYTHING he does with that Dance and his outfits/hair. Boy with Luv was just beauty personified. His vocals are killer, his pink hair is perfection. And Fire! God, Fire Jimin just. Hits. Different.
Black Swan/On era
Mic Drop era
DNA/LY her era
Tae fits the concept look for Black Swan SO DAMN GOOD. I can't even look at him almost. And his tattoos and hair and everything during On. POWER. INTENSITY. BOW TO THE KING. Mic Drop was TaeGiHope's era. I don't know WHAT it does to them, but it does something to me. And I don't think I will ever be over Tae's opener to DNA and his solo during this era, was just.... yeah...
Fake Love era
LYSY tour era (with his long black hair)
On was JKs song. His vocals conquered 2020. His intensity, his dance. His passion. All of it. This song was his and this era, he owned it. And he continued owning it through the entire MOTS7 era. Hello 23 Jungkookie... Fake Love! He was so powerful here and this was his era for sure. He really was just taking over the stage. And of course the iconic ab flash. I cannot willnot ever be over the long black wet hair look he sported on the LYSY tour. I'm FINE it's okay. And this era. He owns it, it's his. Give it To him now. The long purple hair. The short black hair. Doesn't matter. His attitude and confidence are IT FOR ME. The tattoos out, the piercings. The happiness. I'm here for it all.
OT7 honorable mention because all freaking 7 of them decided to go for the throat with these newest concept pics they have dropped for Butter/Permission to Dance.
This was fun! Thank you for the ask! Loved going back through the eras.... hated having to narrow down my choices. Lol it was so hard to do. They own everything and can all pull off any style. It's amazing!
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Khwabon Ke Parindey: A Rapline Story (Teaser)
Pairing: Architect!Hoseok x Named!OC, Writer!Namjoon x Named!OC, Businessman!Yoongi x Reader/OC, Hoseok x Yoongi x Namjoon (platonic)
Genres: series, road trip!AU, sfw, slice of life AU, mostly fluff and crack/humor, some angst (it’s me writing this come on)
Warnings (for this chapter, will be updated as series goes on): cursing, strained friendships, mentions of past incidents resulting in a rift, blink and you’ll miss it mention of cheating, bumping into your ex (ugh), lots of luxury brand name drops (bc Yoongi lowkey a tsundere snob), Hoseok being a sweetheart we adore him, Namjoon being a mess (sorry bby)
Teaser word count: 442 words
Summary: Three lifelong friends reunite for their last road trip in Spain before one of them gets married. Along the journey, they encounter their fair share of ups and downs - in life and with each other (again i am so bad at summaries)
A/N: Hi everyone! I’ve been wanting to write this story forever, and let’s consider this teaser an early b-day gift for @joonscore as the very indulgent Rap Line x ZNMD fic that she did not ask for, but I wrote it anyway bc I think she’ll love it! This will be a series following the plot of one of my favorite movies ever, Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, inspired by this moodboard i made. I hope you all enjoy (and please lmk if you’d like to be added to the taglist!)
Listen to: dil dhadakne do - zmnd
Banner by me!
(teaser below the cut)
“Shit! Fuck! Shit! Ow!” Namjoon curses, stubbing his toe yet again on the edge of his bed.
His room has quite literally exploded onto itself. Piles and piles of clothes decorate his bed, the floor, his nightstand. How was he supposed to pack all this stuff into his suitcase for Spain? He’d need an outfit for everything… swimming… clubbing … a nice dinner.
Namjoon gulps and chokes on air as he looks at his single lone dress shirt … it’s what he wanted to wear when he met his father for the first time. First impressions matter. And while Namjoon had been less than impressed with his dad, he’d make sure his dad would never feel the same way about him. That he’d regret ever leaving him and his mom.
Snapping out of it . . . he groans out loud. He really should have bought a bigger suitcase for this. Maybe one of those fancy multi-compartment bags that Yoongi was always going on about.
. . .
Rows of pristinely folded white shirts and rolled ties greet Yoongi as he wonders what to pack for this trip. Was it hot in Spain? Still, he should be presentable. He was a damn businessman, he should look the part.
Glancing over at his Dior satchel, he stares into the empty compartment. He was missing something.
Shit! He’d almost forgotten. The lone gift bag on his vanity taunts him, and he rolls his eyes at the ridiculous gift that Hoseok had insisted he bring with him.
Hoseok would already be on his way to the airport by now, he knows that. He’d always been their glue, the most eager one out of the three of them to have The Three Musketeers together, against the world.
. . .
The winding roads are the furthest thing from Hoseok’s mind as he makes his way to Incheon International Airport. It’s strange. He’d been the one looking forward to this trip for the longest time, but now that it’s finally here, his stomach is swelling with anxiety.
Nayeon and him had never been apart for this long in the entire span of their two-year relationship. Three whole weeks. He’d miss her, but she made sure that they both had Skype money in their accounts to call each other and video chat as many times as she wanted.
And his friends. So much had gone unspoken between them for the past four years. Ever since it happened, he felt them drifting further and further away from each other, like growing up had created a wall between them. And Hoseok wanted nothing more than to be the one who broke the wall down. He wanted his old friends back.
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Obsessed With Loving You
(Here’s a Yandere Lucid Narancia x Willing Fem Reader fic! I hope ya’ll enjoy :)) Also, this will take place in the early 2000s, so I will make appropropriate references for the time period.
TW: Aged up Narancia!, !Consensual NSFW!, praise kink!, Blowjob!, cum swallowing!, !violence (not against you)!, mafia business!, mostly a soft fic, !obsession, !Possiveness, you’re highkey in denial of his unhinged behaviour!, etc..
I’m sorry if this is too OOC)
Zipping up your cropped Juicy Couture jumper, you look at yourself in your vanity mirror. Your (size) breasts look amazing with your low cut tank top and partially unzipped jumper, and your (thin/thick) thighs look ravishing in your Dior mini skirt.
Smiling at your cute appearance, you swipe a thin layer of (colour) lipgloss on your (thin/full) lips, before spreading the product out evenly.
Today, Nara is supposed to take you out, and you’re very excited.
Plopping down on your vanity’s bench, you buckle a pair of open-toed high heels onto your pedicured feet. Smoothing down any wrinkles on your expensive skirt, you bring out your navy-coloured Nokia, and text your boyfriend that you’re ready to go. Grabbing your cross-bodied purse, you slip it on, and toss your cellphone into its large pocket.
Within moments of your text, you hear your bedroom door’s locks disengage. Your silly boyfriend is so worried about you, that he put those three high security locks on your door. He says he’s afraid of a rival mafia hurting you, but you always reassure him that you know that he’d save you. After all, he’d brought you to his home so that he’s almost always near you!
Your eyes land on your curly haired man, his usual attire strapped on tighter than normal, bringing out his lithe, muscular form.
“Ready to go, beautiful?” You smile and nod, standing to your feet. His purple eyes are glued to your form, taking in how beautiful you look in the clothing he bought you.
“Mmhmm! I’m so excited to go out with you today,” You hurry up to him, hugging him in a tight embrace, all whilst grinning up at him lovingly. His heart practically combusts at the sight of your cute face.
“Me too! I have so much planned for us today,” His giddy smile and eager words spur the two of you into motion, his arm tightly wound around your waist and your head leaning against his bony shoulder.
Once outside your apartment building, he calls over a taxi, getting one with ease. Nara opens the door for you, batting his eyelashes at you playfully. You giggle at his silly actions, and step inside the yellow car. Sitting on the plush seat, you wait for your man to take a seat next to you. Those few moments feel like forever, but when you hear the opposite door open, and you feel his hot hand place itself on your bare thigh, you feel at ease.
The dark haired man speaks to the taxi driver in Italian, and even though you try to follow their conversation, they speak too quickly for you to understand. That’s the price you pay for living in a foreign country.
Once the driver knows where Narancia wishes to go, your boyfriend sends you a happy smile, “Today is going to be a good day, beautiful. I’ll make sure of it.”
The day did, in fact, start out great.
When the two of you reached Via Toledo, Nara immediately directed you to a plethora of high end stores. He’d picked out multiple cute outfits he thought you’d look cute in, and practically dragged you into the fitting room. The only problem is that you looked good in everything he put you in! He almost allowed himself to become bankrupt by buying you everything, but you quickly stopped him.
He was upset at first, but when you meekly told him that you didn’t want him to spend all his money on you, his resolve broke. The both of you came to an agreement; you pick out one or two outfits that you like the most, and he’ll buy only the things you chose. This pleased him greatly, because he was still able to spoil you, but you felt too bad to choose anything very expensive.
So, this ended up with Narancia carrying about ten bags at the end of the day.
“Are you sure you want to carry all of them, Nara? I can carry something! I don’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself-”
“Don’t worry about me, beautiful. I can carry everything, and if you want, I can even carry you,” This draws a laugh from you. You hold onto his arm, trying to keep up with his long strides.
“Thank you for today, I had a lot of fun,” You kiss him on the cheek, making him flush a deep maroon. His russet coloured skin practically glows in the setting sun, making you gawk at him in awe. Your boyfriend is so beautiful. Hearing a love sick giggle come from the curly haired man, you realise that you said your thoughts out loud.
“It is no problem, (Nickname), all I want is for you to be happy,” He kisses your cheek in return, making you flush as well, “Are you hungry? Fugo told me that there’s a good place-”
“Narancia Ghirga, I’m going to kill you!” A haggard looking man runs towards the both of you, and for some reason, he looks familiar, “Give me (Your Name) back! I know that you’ve brainwashed her!” The man’s outburst causes a lot of bystanders to look in your direction, thus causing a small crowd to form.
Your boyfriend quickly pushes you behind him, shielding you from the man with his own body, “What the fuck do you want? I don’t know who the hell you are, but you better stay away from my girlfriend,” You have never seen the normally happy go-lucky man this angry, which scares you.
“You know what you did, and you know who I am! I am Christian Viccio, (Your Name)’s real boyfriend! I’m here to take her back home, where she belongs,” He whips out a pistol, drawing loud yells and gasps from the crowd around you.
“You’re fucking crazy! Put the fucking gun away,” Narancia quickly calls upon Aerosmith, preparing to kill the man that’s currently threatening your relationship and your life. Nara knows who this man is, of course he does! He’s the man that had stolen you away from him, the man that tried to steal your heart. The dark haired man is kicking himself for not just killing him when he had the chance. But, here is his second chance.
When the haggard man moves to shoot your boyfriend, he allows Aerosmith to shit him in the head, killing him instantly. The crowd runs and screams after the shot is fired, causing mass panic. You can’t move, you’re in shock at what just happened. It’s as if a sniper just took the guy out in mere seconds.
Realising your paralysing fear, Nara scoops you into his arms, bags digging painfully into his flesh, and runs in the direction of your shared apartment.
“-You’re alright, beautiful. That horrible man can’t hurt you,” The purple eyed man soothes, rubbing your sides reassuringly, “I’m sorry that I kept this away from you, but I was scared. I was scared that that obsessed man was going to hurt you and steal you away from me.” You cuddle into your boyfriend’s warm chest, eating his words up without much thought.
“It’s okay Nara, thank you for saving me. Without you, I surely would’ve been hurt,” He squeezes your body close to his, relishing how soft you feel under his large palms.
“I’d do anything for you, (Your Name). I’d kill for you, because I love you, just remember that, okay?” You nod, forehead bumping his exposed collar bones.
“I love you too. Is there anything I can do to repay you?” You smooch the underside of his jaw, making butterflies flutter in his stomach.
“Just you loving me is enough,” He kisses your forehead, his hands squeezing the fat of your hips. You smile up at him, your hands running through his hick locks, tugging lightly on certain spots. A small moan escapes his lips, showing that he’s enjoying your actions.
“Please let me do something for you, Nara. Please let me make you feel good,” Who is he to deny your request? Especially when you look at him with so much love and warmth.
“O-okay,” His voice breaks slightly, causing him to clear his throat, “-I mean, yes, of course,” Giving him one last kiss on the lips, you then push him lightly onto his back, leaving him vulnerable below you. You sit on his legs, trapping him below you.
“I love you so much,” Your fingers grasp the fabric of his top, signaling you wanting him to take it off. He does so without fault, showing his well chiseled abdomen, “I meant what I said earlier, you’re very pretty, Nara. My pretty, kind, amazing boyfriend,” His cheeks flush, and you can’t help but kiss them in response.
Your hands ghost over his trouser clad cock, feeling it jump under your soft touch. You shuck the skirt overlaying trousers, before removing them as well, leaving him in his tightening boxers. His purple undergarment shows the outline of his dick very nicely, making your mouth water.
“I wanna make you feel good, will you let me suck your beautiful cock?” He nods down at you shyly, making you grin in happiness.
Pulling his boxers off of him causes his hardening cock to smack against his v-line, splattering a small amount of precum on his tan skin. His tip is a dark maroon, whilst his shaft is a little darker than the rest of his skin. The area around his cock and sack is smooth and hairless, all thanks to a waxing salon he visits monthly. All in all, his prick is the prettiest one you’ve ever seen.
Moving off of him for a moment, you guide him to the edge of your bed, kneeling between his parted legs. His heavy sack hangs below him, but his thick cock bobs straight up. Looking up at his shy face, you take his cock in your dominant hand, and kiss his sensitive tip lovingly.
He lets out a small, high pitched moan, earning him a second kiss. Narancia lays a heavy hand on the back of your head, signaling that he wants you to continue. You do so willingly.
Your other hand cups his heavy balls, kneading them softly, whilst your mouth suckles his tip, and your other hand stroked him tenderly. He keens at your treatment, hips bucking slightly.
“That-that feels so good. I love you so much,” At his words, your hand leaves his shaft, in favour of you taking him deep into your mouth, practically deep throating him. Moaning at full volume, he tries to stay as still as possible, as you suck and fondle him. Squirts of precum shoot down your throat, spurring you to bob your head faster.
“Fu-fu-fuck! You treat me so well, (Your Name), you suck my cock so-” He cuts himself off with a series of moans.
You continue to suck and fondle his cock, the back of your throat massaging his thick cockhead. Tears sting your eyes as you hum around him, trying not to gag.
With every swallow around him, you can feel him swell, showing that he’s about to cum. With one last hard suck, and a particularly hard squeeze of his sack, he creams the back of your throat.
Narancia falls backwards, his orgasm wracking his entire body. His hips almost jerk away from your mouth, but you dutifully follow, trying to swallow down everything that he’s giving you. Your throat helps milk him of his cum, causing him to become oversensitive very quickly.
Once you hear his pitiful keen, you release him, licking your lips of any of his escaped cum. Sliding up his legs, you lay your (size) chest against his, smiling down at his fucked out face.
“I love you, Nara. I’m so happy that you’re the ones who saved me,” Your words are sweet, honest, and innocent, and in his post-nut clarity, Narancia can’t help but feel guilt for lying to you.
But, since he can see that his brainwashing hasn’t come undone, he says nothing.
Capturing your lips with his, he holds you close, relishing your weight against his lithe form.
Nothing can take you from him, no, he’ll make sure of it.
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A/N: OMFG this chapter took for-fucking-ever and way longer than it should’ve! but anyways hiiiiiii remember me? i was really over thinking with this one and it shows but at this point i could care less, the fact that this one is done and over with is more than enough for me. i hope y’all are still here, i’m so sorry it’s been taking me forever to post, just been getting used to my knew living situation. if you’re still here, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy :)
Category: kinda fluffy at the beginning then really smutty
CW: daddy kink; a tad bit of praise and degradation???; masturbation; swearing; threesome; spanking; use of toys; handcuffs
Word Count: 3964
positions | chapter 1
Spencer's POV ~
I grabbed the end of the pillow my head was on and covered my closed eyes. I could see the sunlight seep through my lids and it was way too bright, which was making the headache I had worse. As I tried to fall back asleep, I began thinking about last night. For someone with an eidetic memory, the last thing I remembered was watching the opening credits for Back to the Future. Hm, maybe we fell asleep or something.
"Spencer?" I heard a voice whisper. It sounded so soft and sweet, but that made me want to fall asleep even more.
"SPENCER. WAKE UP."
Suddenly, I felt hands shoving me harshly, trying to get me to wake up. That gentle voice turned into a yell. I immediately opened my eyes. I looked over and saw it was Luke who was yelling at me to wake up.
"Ok ok, I'm up!" I said, swatting his hands away. After rubbing the sand out of my eyes, I sat up on my side and look over to see Clover and Luke shirtless, Clover covering herself with the comforter. I was so confused as to why she was covering herself, let alone shirtless in bed. No words were spoken for a few minutes before I finally figured out what was confusing me.
"I think so?" said Clover, scratching her bed head, "my body feels so sore."
Suddenly, after a moment of silence, Luke starts laughing. I look over to him with another confused look, but then couldn't help but laugh along with him. Clover looked at both of us annoyed. "Why are you guys laughing?"
The two of us couldn't even stop to explain, the tightness in our stomachs getting stronger. Soon enough, the look on her face slowly grew to a realization, then a smile peeked with a laughter falling suit. Soon, we were all laughing at the general thought of what we could possibly have done last night. They say laughter is contagious, and that was for sure proven in that moment.
It took us a bit to calm down, my cheeks began hurting from smiling. Luke finally spoke up after we came down. "Did we really fuck last night?"
"If we did, I'm now embarrassed for anything I said," said Clover, "like 'cool, great, now you know what I'm into."
"I mean, I don't even remember what we did specifically," I said, "do you?" She shook her head.
"Let's just leave it at we had sex last night," said Luke, "I'm kind of bummed. I always wanted to try a threesome and I don't even remember it."
"I hope we enjoyed it." Clover giggled, probably half joking but half serious.
Luke grabs his phone and looks at the time. "Shit, it's almost 1:30."
"And no messages from Emily or Garcia about a case?" asked Clover.
"Nope, just a bunch from Garcia in the group chat. Looks like drunk texts." He opens his phone and starts scrolling through. He chuckles and shows us the texts. She was definitely flirting with Tara, and she was flirting back.
"They'd be so cute together!" said Clover.
I finally got myself out of bed and went over to check my pants for my phone. Once I found it, I looked through to see if I had any missed calls, which thankfully I didn't. If there was a missed call from my mom I'd be completely heartbroken even though I know she'd be happy to finally get back to her. I was thankful that even through the schizophrenia and alzheimer's, she never once got upset for missing her call.
Once we threw on some clothes, Luke letting her wear once of his shirts, we gathered in the kitchen while Luke made us some waffles and coffee. I noticed that Clover looked a little cold, so I offered my blazer from my costume which she happily said yes.
And there we sat, eating our breakfast in silence. As I took a sip of my coffee, I started to feel the awkward tension that was in the room, which got me thinking all sorts of things. What did we do last night, exactly? Did I really have a threesome with two of my best friends and coworkers? Me of all people. Dr.Spencer Reid. I mean, I've had sex before but nothing like this. And it must've been really good, too - better than the past times I've had sex. Clover's neck was covered in hickeys and I noticed as we put our clothes back on that she had bruises on the lower part of her stomach and inner thighs. I don't know if they're from me, or Luke, or both of us.
I wish I could remember. I wish I could remember Clover's lips on mine, the little sexual jealousy I'd get from watching her lips leaving mine and going over to Luke's. The way she'd have herself wrap around me, the sounds of pleasure that would've left all of our lips. I didn't want to think about her in that light, but god lust can really pull you in.
Note to self: don't get blackout drunk.
I finished my plate and brought it to the sink. When I sat back down, I went to take another sip of the delicious, sugary drink, hoping that the warmth of it could somehow help with the massive headache I was having, knowing full well that it wouldn't.
"I'm just going to be blunt," said Clover as she sat her coffee mug down, "would you guys ever do it again out of curiosity?"
I almost spit my coffee out onto the table, as so did Luke. I was thinking about wanting to do it again, but wasn't going to admit it like Clover. At least she wasn't as awkward as I was feeling.
"Well," said Luke, "I-I mean...I don't know. Spencer?"
"I...I..." I couldn't even spit it out. I didn't know what to say.
"It's ok if you don't," Clover interrupted, "seriously. We can just pretend like nothing happened. I mean, we don't even know exactly what we did. What I do know is that I'm going to need to get a really good, full coverage foundation that can cover these up until they disappear. What I'm trying to get at is...aren't you guys curious?"
Luke and I looked at each for a moment, both silently agreeing that we were curious. "I guess," I spoke, " but I just feel that-"
"Y'know what?" Luke cut me off this time, "how about we discuss this over dinner. If we all want to try it sober, then we can go straight to it. If not, it didn't happen and you're still two of my best friends."
"Sounds good to me!" said Clover. I agreed and Luke gave the best awkward smile he could, trying to act normal.
"Great," he said, "This is definitely going to be very interesting."
Relaxing café music was playing on the speakers throughout Luke's apartment. I ended up getting here before Clover after we left to wash up and change. It felt good to be back in my regular clothes. The warmth of my favorite maroon sweater gave me comfort and a bit of confidence came from the cologne I decided to wear. It was one of my best friends and old coworkers, Derek Morgan, who suggested this scent to me recently. "Savage by Dior," he had said, "Statistics show that women have been loving this scent on men." I knew he was talking sarcastically, but he was right.
I only went on a few dates after taking time for myself after my girlfriend at the time, Maeve, was murdered right in front of me. The only person who knew I was going back out on the scene was Morgan, because he was helping me out and for the fact that he wasn't on the team anymore to be a husband to his wife, Savannah, and father to their son, Hank. I felt that he could keep a secret better after that. I just didn't want to tell the team I was back out there until I had found love. Some things you just need to keep to yourself until it's real.
Luke was finishing up making dinner when I got there, which he asked Rossi about. A nice chicken alfredo but with Shirley Temples, which I had suggested instead of wine since we wanted to stay sober. Luke was saying that when he originally asked for his famous pancetta, Rossi instead gave him his grandmother's alfredo recipe, joking that all of D.C. knows it by now. He made sure he followed by the book, but wasn't going to tell Rossi that he used boxed noodles instead of making them from scratch.
As I finished helping him set the table, the doorbell rang. Luke went to answer, coming back to a very stunning Clover. She had a white knitted sweater over what looked like to be a black dress. A silver necklace was shining around her neck, and she matched her boots with her dress. With the makeup she put on, her neck looked like it had never been touched just like that. She looked quite beautiful, like a poem. I had to get out of my head. Emily was right-every time i see a pretty girl it's like my IQ of 187 goes down to 60 in an instant.
We went in for a hug and said hi. She smelt like roses and bourbon vanilla, like a classic film where the light lit her in the perfect spot. Luke went and fixed up our plates as we sat down. Clover took a sip of her Shirley Temple and smiled.
"Damn they never get old, even when you're not a kid anymore!"
"I'm shocked I got it right," joked Luke, "I've never made them before but now I'll keep a mental note of it for the future."
As we enjoyed our meal, we sat in silence once again. The food was amazing, but I kept looking over at Clover, the nerves and excitement building up inside me. I wanted to do this, really I did. I just didn't want to mess up. Luke's, I'm sure, more experienced than I am in sex, but I still wanted to really make sure I did my part in giving her pleasure. If she was feeling good, I would be, too. That's just how I am sexually, even lately when I've noticed myself getting more dominant since I was released from prison. As I was about to get really lost in my running mind, Clover spoke.
"How about we talk about what we're into? Just to get it out of the way."
The two of us stayed silent, giving quick glances at each other seeing which one of us was going to speak first. Clover, instead, took it into her own hands.
"Guess I'll start," she began, "um...god this is so embarrassing but I'll just get it out the way. I am into the daddy kink, BUT I don't have daddy issues. I actually have a good relationship with my father. I've just noticed that guys grow in confidence when I call them daddy. I guess you could say I get turned on when the other person is turned on. I also like being a bratty sub so have fun with that! Hmm...I'm into bondage, and since joining the team I've been into the idea of handcuffs, never tried them before but I'd get into that. I'm NOT into anal. I want to make that very clear and if one of you tries I'll wear a butt plug if I have to. I also like being choked, spanked. To make a long story short, I really enjoy being submissive...with a man that is."
She then took a sip from her drink after saying the last part. Instead of purposefully being silent, Luke and I were just speechless. Clover looked at us to see who would go next, but we couldn't speak.
"Ok seriously? Let's not make this awkward," she said, "we all agreed that we're trying it out because we're curious. And depending how it goes, we can pretend that none of it happened and go back to being friends. The last thing I want is for this to be too weird that we only talk professionally at work, or worse, one of us wanting to transfer or something."
I decided to speak up this time. "Well, I'm similar to you, Clover. I also get um...turned on, when the other is enjoying themselves. Lately, I've been enjoying being more dominant, but I haven't tried anything too kinky like bondage or choking. I guess you can say I'm what some would call a "soft dom"."
"A little surprising, but intriguing." She said, jokingly giving me seductive eyes. "Ok Luke, now it's your turn."
Luke sat his fork down. "I guess I'm in the the same boat. More on your side than Spencer's. I can be soft, but I'm not a uh, "soft dom."
We all quietly giggled at the term. "Great," she said, "I think we're all clear now."
After that, the conversations became more relaxed. Clover was telling some funny stories about her past sexual experiences, which made Luke and I crack up in disbelief. Some things, I didn't think you could do with the male anatomy.
After we finished, we helped Luke clean up and put the dishes and glasses away. Suddenly, Clover grabbed both our hands and followed her to the bedroom, a look of seduction on her face. In a second, she went from her sweet, sarcastic self, to a more vulnerable, alluring woman. When we entered the room, she brushed her hair off her shoulder as I closed the door behind us. She stood in front of the bed and turned around to face us.
"Well," said Clover, "Where should we start first?"
The two of us were frozen yet again.
"Ok then. I guess I'll start." She pointed to the door. "You two go get chairs from the kitchen. I want you to watch."
"I thought you said you liked being the submissive one." Luke chuckled.
"I do," she said, "I'm just being a brat." She winked at us as we jokingly rolled our eyes at her, leaving the room to go grab the chairs.
As I grabbed mine, I started to wonder what Clover was planning on. And by the look on Luke's face, he seemed to be wondering the same thing. Then something else came to mind.
"Wait, Luke," I whispered, "Do you think this is a good idea?"
"What do you mean?" He whispered back.
"I don't know...what if this ruins things?"
Luke sat his chair down quietly before speaking, his hands resting on the top. "I don't think this will ruin anything. At least from my end, I'm not letting that happen. We agreed that we would be honest with each other afterwards, and I really am curious. Plus, I trust you two. And I would only do this with people I trust. Are you ok with all of this?"
"Of course I am. I guess it's just nerves talking. But you're right, I wouldn't do this with people I didn't trust, and I trust you two with my life."
"Good." Luke said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Just then, we heard little noises coming out of the bedroom. "Shit," he said, "we're running late."
I chuckled as Luke grabbed his chair again and we headed back to the bedroom, where we found Clover already undressed, playing with herself on the bed. One hand was playing with her boobs, while the other was down at her core, rubbing slowly. Laying next to her, were a couple of toys, which I had no clue what they were exactly but I knew this was going to be interesting.
"What's all this, princesa?" asked Luke.
"You two were taking too long," she whined, "now sit!"
"Anything for you, little one." I said with a smile.
The two of us sat our chairs down in front of the bed, sitting down to watch her little act.
"Now, I want you two to stay there and watch while I play with myself until you can't take it anymore. See how long you take. You can touch yourself if you want, but not doing so could make this a little more fun."
We did as told, though we both knew that this bratty charade wasn't going to last long. I watched as she continued to make circles on her clit, looking straight at us. When her eyes moved from Luke's to mine, all I could see was lust that filled them. She was trying to break me, to make me crumble in her hands with her moans and expressions, but I wasn't going to that easily, and she knew it.
Clover stopped what she was doing and reached over for one of toys. She grabbed a dildo a started teasing her entrance with it. I could feel my pants getting tighter as she giggled, slowly letting the tip slide into her. Her head fell back and her jaw fell open, the feeling of pleasure taking over her whole body. She was enjoying herself, and we could hear her perfectly. Her moans were like a song by Mozart, a beautiful piece that the ears could enjoy. She kept going, moaning our names at first, "Luke...awh...S-Spence FUCK", but then soon after the only thing she could say was, "daddy!".
I didn't think I could last much longer, even shocked that Luke could. I could see that he was clenching his jaw, trying not to palm himself. I couldn't run away from lustful thoughts of dominating her, intoxicated by every curve of her body. Making her feel absolute pleasure and bliss as I touched her. But nothing was going to beat me, I knew when we would come in for the kill.
I snapped out of my thoughts and noticed that I was already palming myself, getting some sort of friction without even knowing as she came, screaming out in heavenly pleasure. She was almost shaking as she fell back on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Once she did, she sat up to see the two of us with smirks on our faces.
"Are you done with your little show, little one?" I asked.
She nodded, motioning a finger to us to come here. Luke and I looked at each other as we stood, silently agreeing what we were going to do. I sat next to her on the bed and pressed my lips against hers, cupping her face into my hand. Luke went and got his handcuffs from his drawer and spun them around his finger. She smiled, giggling at the thought.
"Face down, little one," I whispered as I moved down to her neck, "and make sure that pretty ass is up for us."
She did as told, turning over so that her face was against the pillows and her ass stuck up in the air. She moved her hips a little bit to tease, which made me chuckle at how she was still keeping her bratty act going.
"Looks like we're gonna have to put her in her place, Spencer," said Luke, "she's getting too bratty. Hands behind your back, princesa. Now."
Clover cheekly put her hands behind her back. Luke grabbed her wrists and began cuffing her, making it a tad bit tight around them. I got up and started to undress, never taking my eyes off of hers. After Luke cuffed her, he started to as well. Every time she heard either of our belts she giggled in excitement. When she saw my cock spring free, she squirmed in her place, made me chuckle. "Seems to me that she'll love whatever we do to her." I said, pumping myself a few times in front of her.
"You would think that," said Luke, "until we do this."
With that, his hand landed on her ass hard, making her scream out a moan. I felt my cock twitch in my hand, loving the sound she made. I smiled and got in front of her face, teasing her mouth. I chuckled and gave her a spank of my own on her other cheek, getting a whimper out of her. We did this a few more times until both of her cheeks were red and sore. I could hear the pleasure in her quiet screams.
Luke and I then teased her, running the head of my cock on her lips while Luke teased her entrance. Without any warning, Luke went in deeply, making her jaw fly open for a silent scream. With the little bit of control she had left, she looked up into my eyes and started swirling her tongue along the pre cum forming at the head. I wasn't going to have anymore brattiness come out of her. I pushed my cock in her mouth and started thrusting in and out, my hands tangling in her hair to guide her. Luke began thrusting inside her, her moans vibrating on my cock making it hard to keep focus.
Our pacing grew faster and faster by the second, the pleasurable sensations shooting through my body. I felt her tongue go along the base, which in return made me push her head all the way down, making her choke and gag on it. "Right there," I moaned, "f-fuck you're being such a good girl right now."
"Yes she is," said Luke, "she's being such a good girl for daddy, isn't that right?"
I pulled her off my cock to let her speak. "Yes daddy, I'll be good now I swear."
"That you will," I said, "and if you keep behaving so well, maybe you'll get a reward."
I put her back on my cock, letting the vibrations of her happy moans put me in total bliss. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to release. And by the looks of Luke's face, he was getting there, too.
"Do you think you can cum with us, baby," Luke asked, "are you close?"
She nodded. I looked to Luke and gave him a nod, letting him know she was ready.
"That's it, little one. Cum with us."
I pushed her head all the way down again and Luke stopped deep inside of her, filling the room with moans and groans as we came together. The sensations took over my body, high off of the adrenaline.
Once we were done, we pulled off of her and I fell next to her on the bed. Luke grabbed the key and uncuffed her, flipping her over gently to watch his cum pool out of her. He smiled at his finished work, then quickly went and grabbed wipes from the bathroom, coming back to clean her up. I could tell she was in some sort of subspace and wrapped her in my arms, leaving kisses on top of her head.
"You did so good, Clover. That was so amazing." I said, shushing her in between sentences. When he was done, Luke lay on the other side of her, moving her hair away from her face and behind her ear, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"Hey," he said, "let's talk about this in the morning, ok? You two are more than welcome to stay here another night. Let's get some sleep."
With that, we tucked ourselves in the covers, facing the same way to the right. Clover wrapped her arms around Luke while i wrapped mine around her, letting an even better bliss take over our bodies: sleep.
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Ok sorry to send another ask but if you want to please tell me all about Morwen strangling Finrod and any other CoH thoughts
You might have noticed but I’ve been rather fixated on Húrin lately and your tags are so intriguing
So I. So. (don't you ever apologise for sending asks aaah) This is VERY rambly because I'm exhausted, so I put numbers to indicate topics but Everything Is Connected :,,(
1. (Maedhros,) Húrin and prayers
Your "Maedhros prays in Angband" scenario is amazing and very important, because it's Maedhros and because it's Angband. But I don't have fully-fledged thoughts yet, just questions myself... (how does suffering alter time perception for elves? I have a suspicion that elves are seemingly closer to the valar in nature while humans are theoretically (= w/o many practical benefits) closer to Eru in nature. So I think that when an elf, and an amanya at that, prays to the valar, it's more of a conscious conversation? While the silence before Húrin says, "it comes not from the lore of the Eldar, but is put into my heart in this hour" might have been a contemplative prayer. (not an ask for help just the turning of attention))
2. Morwen Elf-critic
what you actually asked about: strangling Finrod. Last week I wanted it to be Elros, and yesterday I said Morwen in the tags, didn't I? It was because I had just realised in that moment that Morwen "fair but briefer and so fairer or maybe dearer" was the best goddamn elf critic out there. (Human perspective: elves live unfathomably long, so to say "forever." Elven perspective: humans escape time through the Gift, like ainur were never subject to it, so they actually might go int the "forever"!) We tend to think that elves are "spiritual." It's a similar optical illusion to when elves look at humans and see a Mystery on them (did Finrod discover the incarnation? Maybe. Am I also spraying him with water? Definitely.)
3. Other CoH thoughts (The Chaos)
Then these thoughts tragically collided with an Eärendil fic I'm """trying"""" to write (hence the tag about him and Túrin) and another amazing Eärendil-Elwing ask I'm yet to answer so all I wanted to do ever since was yell about the difference between elven and human notions of the eternal (and consequently the difference between the two species' attitudes towards beauty and suffering and permanence) and the absolute chaos that erupts when you add a maia (peredhel line through Melian) into the mix.
So far I can report: zero coherency. At one point I wandered whether Dior was a fourth silmaril (the light of the two species' nature mingling+secret component). It's incredible that everything wants synthesis in the silm so very much.
Anyway. I'm so sorry and grateful if you've actually made it through this unpleasant read. And also because there wasn't enough Húrin! Below are two memes to indicate what it's like in my brain right now. And to bully myself into writing about what's on them
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monsta x x mystic messenger masterlist
F (fluff), M (smut/mature), A (angst), S (suggestive)
PSA:. Dior was the best villain in their dramas, so I decided to use her here as if she was Rika (especially bc she and Yoosung are cousins and lookalike)
Shownu (V) — The hard working caring leader, calm, and care a lot about the others, a natural protector, will do everything he can for his beloved ones. Will the mysterious photographer be the one to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - Wine, party and memories
Bad Ending (M) - Lust and photographies
Bad Relationship ending (A) - Unstoppable
After Story (F, A) - A Happy Family
Wonho (Zen) — The sexy, yet cute, warm and kind actor, who's very hard working, protective and loyal, will do anything for his lover, and it's extremely flirty with them. Will the charming actor be the one able to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - My girl
Bad Ending (M) - Jealousy, jealousy
Bad Relationship Ending (A) - Replaced
After Story (F, S) - My (cute) manager
Minhyuk (Yoosung) — The supportive and cheerful sunshine student, who's also a tease, who's also very talkative, sensitive and likes playing games, although he's a sunshine, does not have many friends, and sometimes may need some help to calm down. Will the sunshine student be the one able to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - Forever
Bad Ending (S) - Good Little Puppy (ft. Jooheon)
Bad Relationship Ending (A) - Not Ready
After Ending (F, S) - Perfect Two
Kihyun (Jaehee) — The tsundere hardworking secretary, who's also a caring and organized person, who's always bickering with his boss and friend Hyungwon, and even if he works more than the intended, will want to do more.... But needs to rest, and stop taking care of the other so he can worry with himself. Will the hardworking secretary be the one able to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - Your own business
Bad Ending (M, A) - Relax
Bad Relationship Ending (A) - Not a good worker (ft. Hyungwon)
After Ending (F) - Our dreams
Hyungwon (Jumin) - The cold and elegant CEO, who's calm and tend to hide his deep emotions, really cares about people, but will not show that, he's an intellectual and a whole dom, likes good manners, and tends to be more on a yandere side, he's afraid to lose his beloved ones. Will the elegant executive be the one able to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - Marriage and surprises
Bad Ending (M, A) - My toy
Bad Relationship Ending (A) - Escape
After Ending (F) - Only her
DLC (M, F, A) - A hard happily ever after (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)
Jooheon (Ray/Saeran) — The unknown man who made you knew each one of them, he's loyal, sweet, and has a kind side, however, was extremely mistreated and manipulated his entire life, just needs to be protected, so he can open his heart to his beloved one. Will the 'bad boy' be the one able to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - Past is past
Bad Ending (M,A) - Dumb slut
Bad Relationship Ending (A) - Puppet
Changkyun (707/Luciel/Saeyoung) — The deep thinker and 'extra' genius hacker, who loves to be alone and is a very open minded person, he's protective and cheerful with his beloved ones. Will the 'weirdo' hacker be the one able to steal your heart?
Good Ending (F) - Playing 'Sherlock'
Bad Ending (M,A) - Finding motivation
Bad Relationship Ending (A) - Paradise (ft. Jooheon)
After Ending (F) - Hopeless romantic (ft. Monsta x)
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Mirror, mirror on the wall...
Who is the fairest of them all?
Whilst rereading the Silm, I got incredibly sidetracked and compiled this list of every time someone is referred to as “fair” or “beautiful.” Every quote here is stated directly by the narrative itself, unless otherwise indicated.
Disclaimers: This is from a keyword search for “fair” and “beautiful” in the published Silm, not anything from LOTR or HOME. The linked edition of the Silm does have some typos, so that may mean I missed a couple.
I only included people or groups of people, and not places or things.
I’m sure this has been done before, but what the hell, here it is again.
And finally, it’s often not clear whether Tolkien is referring to beauty or hair color - though I did not run across anything that seemed to specifically be referring to skin tone.
Alright - here we go...!
The Quendi are “fairest of all earthly creatures.”
The Eldar are called “fair and joyful.”
The Vanyar are “the Fair Elves.” Probably referring mostly to their blond hair, though.
The Noldor are called the “fairest of the children of the world” but this is specifically in the “Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age” section so that seems to me that they’re the fairest ones left in Middle-earth at that time.
The Teleri are the “fairest singers;” the Sindar specifically have the “fairest voices” save Maglor, and are also the fairest of the Moriquendi.
The Host of the Valar are in “forms young and fair and terrible.” Later, the Last Alliance is called “fairer and more splendid in arms” than any host since, and only the Host of the Valar was greater.
Lúthien Tinúviel, more fair than mortal tongue can tell...
Lúthien is the fairest “of all the Children of Ilúvatar” and “of all the Children of the World” (the second said by Beren); she is also “more fair than mortal tongue can tell” (again said by Beren) and called “the fair”; her song to Mandos is the “most fair that ever in words was woven” (which makes sense considering the Teleri and Sindar are both called the fairest singers).
She is also the most beautiful “of all the Children of Ilúvatar” and “of all living things” (this last said by Daeron). That’s four distinct times she’s called the fairest or beautiful, plus being called “the fair” and having sung the fairest song ever and being called too fair to be described in a mortal tongue - seven references to her beauty in total.
Extending that to her descendants...
Dior is called “the fairest of all the children of the World, of threefold race” and personally I think that’s more impressive than his mom, but either way he’s at least a close second. He’s also called “the fair” and “the beautiful.”
Elwing is called “the fair.”
And going back to Lúthien’s dad, Thingol was stated to be fair before meeting Melian but afterward appearing as “a lord of the Maiar,” so...even sexier? Or possibly now he’s eldritch?
Finarfin is the fairest of the sons of Finwë. This could be referring solely to his golden hair, but I’m not convinced of that. Either way, he gets it from his mother Indis, who is called “the Fair.”
Fëanor is called “tall, and fair of face” and while I personally reject the tall!Fëanor canon because I love imagining him as tiny and full of rage, I will accept that he’s sexy.
Celegorm is called “the fair.”
Aredhel is specifically said to be fair to Eöl.
Idril is fairer than Gondolin.
Finrod is called both “the fairest of the house of Finwë” and “the fairest of all the princes of the Elves.”
However, Galadriel is stated to be “most beautiful of all the house of Finwë.” What is the truth, Tolkien!!!
Later, Galadriel is called “the fairest of all the Elves that remained in Middle-earth” in the Third Age.
Túrin is said to have a face “more beautiful than any among mortal Men, in the Elder Days.” He’s also called “fair and strong.”
He must have got it from his mom, because Morwen is called “most beautiful of mortal women in the days of old.” No word on mortals, men or women, in later days.
The Númenóreans are said to be getting fairer each generation; later, they are called the “fairest of Men” by the Messengers from Aman.
Tar-Míriel in particular is “fairer than silver or ivory or pearl.” Those are all white or silver, so that makes me wonder about her skin tone or hair color - I do think it’s referring primarily to her overall beauty, but silver-haired Tar-Míriel in an echo of the original Míriel Þerindë is something I am now very much into.
It’s worth noting that Túrin and Morwen are both compared to Elves in their beauty - Morwen’s epessë “Eledhwen” translates to “Elfsheen,” and Túrin’s epessë “Adanedhel” translates to “Elf Man.” And the Númenóreans are descendants of Elves, including Lúthien “most beautiful of all living things” Tinúviel. So it seems that Men only have a chance of being called fair if they’re very Elflike.
Now we get to the bad guys.
(Well, mostly Sauron.)
Melkor is only called fair once - when Fëanor sees through his “fair semblance,” which implies that any beauty he has is fake.
Sauron, however, is called “noble and beautiful” in appearance; he’s also said to have a “fair hue” twice - once specifically “fair and wise” in his form as Annatar, though that is called also a “fair-seeming,” which calls back to Melkor’s “fair semblance.” Again he’s said to appear “wise and fair” to the Númenóreans. Alas, good things can’t last forever, and after the fall of Númenor he can “never again appear fair to the eyes of Men” (no word on Elves, though) because his “fair semblance had departed for ever.”
That’s a total of six times Sauron is called out for being sexy! He’s second only to Lúthien - although unlike her, he’s never called the fairest of anything.
In sum, Lúthien’s claim to fame as the “most beautiful of all living creatures” pretty much tops anyone else...but IMO, Sauron is a close second.
Plus, Finrod and Galadriel fight it out for the title of “prettiest Finwëan,” with no clear winner!
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Of Rapunzel and Cinderella
Hi! I hope everyone is doing well! So I was sitting on an Erwin fic for the longest time, and I wrote 3 drafts before finally deciding that this was the plot line I wanted to go with. And guess what? I’m still not completely satisfied with it. It’s probably just my anxiety telling me everything I do is shit but whatever. I hope everyone enjoys this fic. Let me know if I should write a part 2.
REMEMBER, RELATIONSHIPS LIKE THIS ARE NOT HEALTHY NOR SAFE. IF YOU FIND YOURSELF IN A RELATIONSHIP LIKE THIS PLEASE CALL THE NUMBERS AT THE END OF MY RULES.
TW: Non Con, Toxic Relationships, Abuse of Power,
You met Erwin when you were just nineteen.
You were a fresh face. You knew nothing of city life or business. You had 300 dollars to your name. All the odds were stacked against you but you had to find a way to succeed here.
You were going to become a model.
Ever since you were a little girl it had been your dream. Your mother was a model, and you delighted in watching her pose on photo sets on the rare occasion she’d bring you. You’d always thought she looked so elegant in whatever she modeled. The long flowing dresses or tight fitted jumpsuits always looked so beautiful on her. She looked like a goddess on earth as she posed for the cameras.
But when you were seven she got into a car crash and died.
You had watched your Mother be buried deep in the earth with a heavy heart. Your beautiful mother was gone forever. You were stricken with grief, but you decided to honor her by following in her footsteps and becoming a woman just as elegant and strong.
People in Alaska told you that it was foolish. That there was no place for a girl like you in a modeling career. You knew nothing of the world. Your father was a fisherman your mother had met by chance on a night out. You’d never lived in the city or really anywhere remotely populated. Your mom has taken you to LA once or twice when you were young but that was the only exposure you had. But you didn’t care what they said. Your mother had become a model and so would you.
So you had saved up all your money and when you were 18, you moved to your mothers home city of LA in hopes of achieving your dreams.
It was tough at first. It was hard to find consistent work without an agent. After about a year of searching with no success you had gotten a job as a Starbucks barista and began, with a heavy heart to think that perhaps the people in your village were right and that your dreams were ludicrous. That’s when you met Erwin.
Tall, blonde, handsome. A traditional James Dean looking man and an incredibly smooth talker. You had made him his coffee and he gave you a business card. Said he had seen some older shoots you had done and was incredibly interested in you. Told you to give him a call.
Obviously you did.
Before you went, you did some research on him. He was the real deal. He had worked in the modeling industry for 20 years as a private agent/manager. He was well known throughout the industry and had worked with countless models who had achieved incredible careers. He was known to be incredibly selective with people who he would personally work with. Oftentimes he’d hold auditions that thousands of girls would attend and not one would pique his interest.
Some forums speculated it was because the last girl who he had worked with nearly five years ago was having a secret love affair with him. But when she decided she wanted to leave the relationship he wouldn’t let her go. So she had jumped off of the side of a building to finally be free from him.
It was true that the last girl he had worked with had committed suicide according to your research, however all of the records claimed that it was because of pressure from being a public figure. The manager model relationship thing was likely just a conspiracy.
The two of you met at a tall building with shining windows. He was kind to you. Gentlemanly and very professional. He laid out all the things he could do for you, all the success he could bring.
But then, he had revealed to you what he wanted in return.
You still remember how your heart pounded when he locked the doors and closed the blinds that day. How you trembled when his large hand held your chin in place so he could lock his lips around yours. How he had wiped the excess saliva off of the side of your mouth with the pad of his thumb when he finally pulled away.
“You're so beautiful (Y/N). You're the first girl to catch my eye in nearly five years. I could do so so much for you, and I know you could do so much for me in return.”
He had said it so gently, a soft smile residing on his lips the entire time he spoke. If you didn’t speak the same language as him you would have never thought that there might be sinister intentions behind the words he spoke. He had held your chin so you looked directly into his piercing blue eyes.
You had been frightened at first. Ready to run away and never look at the man again. But your mothers smile flashed by in your mind. You wanted to make her proud. You remember she had told you that sometimes success comes at a high price, the people who fail are the ones who are unwilling to pay it.
And you had come too damn far to be a failure.
You trembled as you shook Erwins hand. You still remember the evil gleam his eyes held as you signed your life away in exchange for a modeling career, the near animalistic way he’d taken you for the first time once the papers had been signed.
Now, 5 years later, Erwin has kept his side of the deal. You’re getting jobs with Gucci, Dior, Prada and other companies you’d never even heard of back when you lived in Alaska. You’d been the star of countless fashion shows, been on the cover of Vogue twice and had even been invited to attend the Met Gala. You're loved by the public. Erwin managed to put you on a pillar so high that nothing you do, no matter how bad, could ever tear you down. You’re adored.
But the adoration means nothing anymore to you. You hate your work. You hate your life. But you can’t back out, you signed that dumb contract.
Erwin owns you now.
You're a doll to him. His pretty little toy to use. He never truly cared about your success, only the debt you’d be in to him once he had brought it. It’s a debt you continue to pay with your body, mind, and soul.
Sometimes you wonder if your mother looks down on you from heaven and is proud.
The door closes behind you as you get into the limo. Your lower half still hurts from the rough treatment it had received this morning so you're a bit slow getting into the car. The driver asks if you need help with a tone of concern in his voice, you quickly reply no and sit down as to maybe spare some humiliation.
You take a seat across from your manager who looks at you with a smug smirk that makes you want to vomit all over the expensive car. You look down in discomfort and shame as the man taps on the window separating the two of you and your driver and states the address of your destination.
Another stupid runway fitting. Fashion weeks we’re going to be happening soon so you assumed that there would be more of these then normal in the upcoming weeks. You don’t like standing still for hours as your body is poked and prodded with pins. Complaint, however, wasn’t an option. Erwin would punish you again for being ungrateful.
The engine starts and the window between you and the driver rolls back up. The car begins to move towards your destination.
You look out the window lost deep in thought until you hear the man sitting across from you clear his throat.
“I trust you learned your lesson this morning my dove. You know that going out without my permission is against the rules. Why did you do it?” The man questions, looking down at you as one might a naughty child.
You look down at your lap in shame. “I’m sorry Erwin… I just… I just wanted some fresh air-“
“And the apartment balcony doesn’t provide fresh enough air for you?” He interrupts, an eyebrow is raised almost mockingly. He leans back and crosses his arms
“I truly hope you weren’t trying to run away from our little arrangement my love. You know you can’t run from me. I’d have the whole country on lookout for you within a matter of hours. Tell them that you’d hurt your head, got amnesia and ran away in fear. People would look far and low for you. Everyone knows your face. You wouldn’t last an hour.” he growls.
You shake, squeezing the skin on your arm tightly. The man was right. There was no escaping him. Everyone in the world knew your face. You wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without being recognized. You’d be brought back to Erwins lap and then… you didn’t even want to think about it.
“I-I wouldn’t try to run from you Erwin. I’m sorry for being so foolish. It won’t happen again.” You mumble.
Erwin lets out a satisfied grunt before looking out the window. “I certainly hope it doesn’t. However we’ll be continuing your punishment when we get home tonight. I want to make sure that this time your dumb little head grasps the lesson.”
You nod, gripping your arm even harder. How was he not already done? He had used you like a sex doll for nearly the entire morning before you left. Perhaps he would spank you, or worse. It had been so long since he’d used the crop on you. You hoped he never would again. You shiver in fear at the thought.
The rest of the ride is relatively quiet. Erwin speaks a bit about the dress they would be fitting you for today but you don’t really listen. Anxious thoughts about what punishment might await you later swirl through your head.
You watch as the city zooms by from the window. People walk on the streets, all of them are going somewhere. How you longed to be like them, to be going somewhere. But you were trapped here in your pretty golden cage. If Erwin has his way, you'll probably be trapped in it for the rest of your days.
If only you could go back in time. You would have done things so differently when you met him.
The car soon stops in front of a tall building. It had the name of some designer you didn’t know plastered on the front of it.
You take a deep breath and prepare yourself.
Erwin helps you out of the car. The two of you walk into the massive lobby, accented with steel greys and green silk. People walked around hurriedly, talking on phones, carrying coffee, and talking to each other about what you could only assume must be business matters. You feel like an intruder. Although, in your experience, that wasn’t an uncommon feeling to have in places like these.
Erwin walks you to a secretary’s desk and states your last name. She smiles politely at him and nods. She makes a brief phone call and two security guards come to escort you and Erwin to an elevator. The button for the highest floor is pressed, the security guard has to punch in a code to be able to press it. The security guard leaves so that you and Erwin can step inside. The elevator doors close and you rise to the top of the building in silence.
Erwin stares straight at the doors with his hands clasped behind his back. He always looks so regal, so professional. He simply has the air of a businessman about him. You suppose that’s what makes him such a good manager. People just seem to obey when he speaks. He’s a smart man and incredibly persuasive when he wants to be.
Unfortunately those are the exact aspects of him that had dragged you into this mess.
If only you had been able to see past that charming disguise he had put on when you first met. He just seemed so nice. Looking back on it you should have known that the notion of “nice” does not exist in the business world.
You look down at the floor solemnly. You hear a click and look up at Erwin who had snapped his fingers behind his back to grab your attention.
“Remember (Y/N). Smile.” He muttered.
Ever since you had first signed with him, Erwin always told you to smile more. He said that your resting face looked upset and the public didn't want upset. They want you to be the cheery little poster girl that they aspire to be. So you put on a smile the best you could even when you were sad. When he started advancing on you, smiling became harder. Erwin told you that you should be grateful he chose you as he rammed you into a mattress. That millions of other girls would kill to have even a sliver of what you’d been given by him. So you smiled and told him how wonderful he was, how lucky you were to have such a talented manager and took what he gave you.
Smiling doesn’t really feel great anymore.
You turn to him and give him the best smile you can. “Yes Erwin. Sorry about that!” you chirp.
The man studies you for a second more before turning to look forwards again. You make sure to clear your mind and try to put yourself in the cheery headspace that you present to the public. You didn’t need him getting any more pissed off at you then he already was for the escape attempt.
The elevator dings and the two of you step out. You enter a room at the end of a short hallway. It’s large, the walls are a white color with different pieces of artwork accenting them. There’s large floor to ceiling windows looking out over the city. Fabric and tulle fold neatly over expensive looking chairs. Sketches of extravagant dresses litter the walls and mannequins hold finished projects waiting for clients to be fit into them. A desk and sewing machine sat in the corner of the room along with a rack of ribbon and thread and lace all neatly arranged by color and variety. At the front of the room there's a rotating platform that you assumed was for fittings. By the platform sat a neat tray of pins, thread, sewing needles and other things of the sort a designer might need to tailor a dress. The whole place looks rather tidy for a designer's office you think. In your experience they usually look like a bomb just went off.
Your thoughts are interrupted when a door on the other side of the room opens and a short but incredibly scary looking man walks out.
He has a face of steel. One that looks like it could snap at any second. His hair is jet black and his eyes are a cold grey. He’s dressed rather plain, only in a dress shirt and pants, however still manages to look elegant.
The man walks over to you and Erwin and greets your manager before turning to look at you.
“This is the one that caught your eye?” He asks.
Erwin smirks “Indeed she is. A delicate thing, isn’t she?”
Levi looks you up and down again, before sighing. “She’s certainly your type.”
You stood there quite confused. How did this man know about you and Erwins relationship? He didn’t tell anyone about it. Especially not random designers.
“That she is. Now then, where did my manners go? Levi, this is (Y/N). My client and prize. (Y/N), this is Levi Ackerman. He’s an old friend of mine and a talented designer. He’s incredibly talented and just recently moved back to LA from Paris.I happen to owe him a favor. So you’re going to be doing an exclusive for him during New York and Paris fashion week. You’ll be wearing the focus pieces of his collections during the shows.” Erwin states.
You're a little shocked. You didn’t even know that Erwin had friends. At least any friends that he didn’t just have for business purposes. However his relationship with this man seems different. After all, he trusted him enough to know about the morally corrupt and downright illegal actions he took on you. He wouldn’t just trust anyone with that information obviously. It makes you wonder if anyone else knows about the things he does to you.
Knowing Erwin, he wouldn’t want you to comment on the fact that he had told someone about the things he does to you, especially in public. However, you rarely bothered questioning the things your manager did at all anymore. It only really ever ended with you getting hurt. His rule over you was supreme.
You ignore the turning of your gut from the anxiety and shame, put on your best fake smile and hold out your hand for the designer to shake.
“I-it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Ackerman.”
The designer makes no attempt to shake your hand or greet you in any way. Just looks you up and down some more, as if figuring out a complex problem in his head.
He mumbles something to himself about a ball gown and how the tulle might rip on the runway with heels and walks over to some of his mannequins to take dresses off while muttering to himself in what sounded like french.
Erwin stands behind you and squeezes your shoulder while Levi gets the dresses he wants you to try.
“He’s known ever since I first found you.” He murmurs quietly into your ear. You tense up when you feel his hot breath tickle your neck.
“He’s looking for his own little protégé, so to speak. He has his eyes on a sweet looking girl who’s about to graduate from FIT. He’s going to offer her an internship, it’s likely you’ll meet her sometime in the next year.”
Your skin crawls with realization. How you wished you could find that girl and scream to her to run, that whatever dreams she might have had weren’t worth this life. The men in this industry were truly sick.
When Levi comes back, he’s holding a long blue dress. The bottom was made of different shades of blue tulle and silk. It gives the illusion it changes colors every time it moved. You had to admit, it was impressive, for as much of scumbag as he was, Levi certainly seemed to be talented.
“Strip.” The designer demands.
You look around nervously, trying to spot a place where you might have some privacy.
“Here, (Y/N). You’ll strip here.” Erwin states from the couch where he was watching you and Levi.
You look at him uncomfortably but eventually shamefully pull off your shirt, skirt, stockings, shoes and bra. Levi stops you before you strip any further.
“Hold your arms out.” The Designer orders.
You do as you're told. He begins by grabbing a thin corset from a counter and laces it around you.
You dreaded this part about fittings most of all. The corsets always hurt. They smushed your organs in so tight it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You gulp nervously as you wait for him to start to tighten it.
“Breathe in.” the designer orders.
You do as instructed and he tightens the corset. The designer was strong for his size. You felt dizzy just after the first tug. You let out a noise of discomfort and Erwin sighs.
“She’s certainly naughty today. If she acts up for you just give her a smack on the rear. If she’s going to act childish she’ll be punished like a child.” He instructs Levi.
You tense up at the instruction. Erwin never let anyone other than himself touch you anywhere even remotely intimate. He wouldn’t even let you pose on red carpets with male models unless you were explicitly instructed by a designer too. He must really trust this man. However you did not. You tried to be still as to not give the designer any reason to touch you.
The designer continues to tug and pull at the laces of the corset until he seems to eventually be satisfied. Your waist is squished so small that you swear you can feel your organs touching one another.
“Good bust.” Levi murmurs, while circling your form to inspect it some more.
“Natural too.” Erwin pipes in casually. “With the exception of a nose job she hasn’t needed any cosmetic work done.”
Levis eyes glisten in interest. “A rarity hm? You have a good eye Erwin.”
The man chuckles. “Haven’t I always?”
You shudder as the designer begins to measure you. Waist, hips, legs, arms, shoulders, bust, along with other measurements were taken and written down on a notepad. The man then walked back to the dress he had abandoned before he had begun to prep you. You had a better view of it now and your eyes widened at its extravagance.
A delicate lace collar, extending upwards in an almost Victorian fashion, puffy blue sleeves cradled the bodice. Dark blue jewels adorned the neckline and delicate embroidery separated the beautiful tulle skirt from the torso piece. The skirt was meant to drape elegantly along the ground and swayed with the wearers every moment. It was a gown truly fit for a princess.
You remained in quiet awe as the shorter man helped you put on the article. It was truly amazing what he had created.
“You look wonderful my dear.” Erwin mused as he watched you admire yourself in the mirror.
You blushed and mumbled a quiet “thank you sir.” in reply. Levi began to pin and sew and prick away.
You remained still for the fitting. Trying not to fidget or wince when the man pushed in a pin a bit too far and pinched you. You instead focused on investigating the other garments across the room on mannequins.
It was clear the theme that Levi was going for with this collection. From the tight bodice piece with a long flowing red cape, to the dress adorned with long golden tails and intricate embroidery, to the suit with vines weaving up and down its coat, with a crown made of metal welded to look like golden feathers, Levis collection was based on fairy tales. You amused yourself by trying to figure out which design corresponded to which fairy tale. You had been successful in guessing so far until you got to the mannequin besides the empty one that had once held your dress.
The suit on the mannequin was blue. A similar shade to your dress. The dress shirt was regal and lacy, the suit coat was a pale blue with gems displayed tastefully and regally along the collar, which, like yours, flares outwards. The pants were white and looked to be tight, much like pants from the Victorian era. His shoes are a dark blue with black splattered at the bottom. At the top of the head rests a crown. At the center of which, sat an ornate looking clock that had been set to read midnight. At first glance it looks like Cinderella, however, you're almost positive the dress you’re wearing was representing Cinderella, so what could that one be?
You turned to Levi as he fussed with the skirt of your dress and bashfully spoke up.
“U-uhm… M-May I ask a question sir?” You asked the shorter man, trying to be as polite as possible so not to get yourself into any sort of trouble.
The man nods as he pins a piece of fabric in the skirt. “Mhm. Shoot.”
“Well, um, excuse me if I’m wrong but I’m assuming your collection is based on fairy tales right? That dress is Little Red Riding Hood, the suit is Jack and the Beanstalk, that’s Rapunzel-“
“Mhm. What’s the question.” The man asks. His tone sounds a bit annoyed. He’s probably trying to focus you figure, he probably didn’t want you talking too much.
You blush and apologize before continuing. “Well, um, I was wondering what Fairy Tale that suit on the Mannequin next to the one this dress was on is from?”
Levi looks up at you and raises an eyebrow. “Are you dumb? Cinderella you idiot.” He grumbles as he continues to work on your skirt.
“O-oh…” you reply, feeling quite bashful in your mistake. “I’m sorry. I thought my dress was from Cinderella.”
“It is.” The man replies, continuing his work as he does.
“Excuse me?” You ask, a bit stunned. Had the man made a mistake? Was he debating on whether to make the Cinderella tale a male or female model so he had made both?
“They're both from Cinderella. Your dress represents Cinderella, the suit represents Prince Charming. The model who’s wearing Charming is coming in after you for his fitting. Some German kid, Armin Arlert. The two of you are walking down the runway together to finish the show.” Levi grumbled. Clearly annoyed by your questioning.
You stand there feeling a bit stupid, but more so feeling curious. You’d never worked this closely with a male model before. Erwin never let you. You supposed that since this was a favor Erwin was letting it slide. You couldn’t help but be excited. What if he was cute? Well he was a model so he probably would be cute. What if he’s-
You snap yourself out of your thoughts. Jesus! Had you forgotten your situation? If you got close to the boy Erwin would make sure that his career ended and you never saw him again. He’d probably worked hard to achieve what he had. It was selfish to think of taking that away from him over something as stupid as a crush.
You decide not to think anymore about it. You stand quietly and try to keep your mind blank throughout the rest of the fitting. Dreams were stupid. You couldn’t afford to dream. It was best to tear up those thoughts before they became problematic.
At the end of the fitting you were tired. You had been standing for nearly two hours and Levi still hadn’t finished. The only thing that stopped Levi from making you stand another 4 hours was a knock at the door.
“Hello?” A soft voice said as its owner opened the door of the studio.
A tall blonde boy walked in. He had baby blue eyes and the kind face that just radiates sunshine. You felt your heart stop for just a moment.
“Fuck. Arlert. I didn’t even notice the time. Go wait outside. I need to get this off of her. I’ll call you in when I’m ready.” he called.
Armin nodded and turned to walk back to the door. Before he left however, he turned back to you and smiled the most beautiful smile you swear you’d ever seen.
“You look really nice. Look forward to seeing you on the runway.”
Your stomach does a forward roll and you swear your face must have lit up to be the color of a tomato. You want to thank him, say something cool, but you're too tongue tied to speak. You watch him leave quite stunned and try to still your heart that was now beating at the pace of a racehorse.
The only thing that snaps you out of your trance is the feeling of Erwins furious eyes drilling holes in the back of your neck.
Your stomach drops.
You compose yourself as Levi helps you undress. Try to pretend like nothing ever happened. Tell yourself that it was for the better.
Once the dress is off and Levi gives you and Erwin a date to come in to finish the fitting, Erwin walks with you down the hallway and into the elevator. He presses the lobby button and the metal box begins humming as the two of you start to descend.
“I truly hope you're not getting any ideas about that model (Y/N). You seemed awfully excited when he complimented you.” Erwin states. There’s a slight edge to his voice. One that a normal person probably wouldn’t hear, but you’d been around the man so long you’d picked up on his quirks.
“No sir. I was just surprised when he came in. I know relationships go against my contract.” You quietly mumble, avoiding eye contact with the man like a toddler being chastised.
“I hope that that’s the truth.” The man mumble quietly. The threat in his voice is obvious. It makes you shudder.
The car ride home is relatively quiet. When the two of you finally get back to the penthouse you share, you begin to climb the stairs to go to your room and maybe take a nap. You were exhausted.
“(Y/N). Come down.” Erwin commands, the annoyed edge in his voice apparent.
You freeze as you remember that Erwin has promised you a continuation of your punishment this morning. You nearly cry as you climb back down and face the man.
The man grabs your face and looks into your eyes coldly.
“Bend over my desk in my office and wait for me. Don’t you dare move.” He growls lowly in your ear.
“Y-yes sir…” you whisper, fearfully averting his gaze.
The man lets go of you and you scurry to obey his orders.
He had started with a spanking.
You had gotten 20 with the paddle and 40 with his hand. The result was your ass taking on a bright cherry red color that any fire truck might envy.
He had made you count and watched as you choked and sobbed out the numbers in misery with a blank face. Sometimes you wonder if he’s a sociopath.
Now you were laid down on his desk. Important paperwork tossed to the side. He leaves sloppy wet kisses down your torso and explores your body with large hands.
“Fuck. So perfect baby. So so good.” He growls into your tummy as one of his hands tweaks your nipple, causing you to yelp.
He lets out a laugh and pulls harder. You cry out in pain. He eventually lets go and brings his hand down to your sweet pink cunt.
He begins by sliding two fingers in. Scissoring them and reveling in the way you moan so sweetly in response.
“Mmm, baby. Your body can’t lie to me. It knows you need me. Knows that you belong to me. You can’t lie to me.” He growls, twisting his fingers inside of your walls and creating a lewd wet squelching sound that causes your cheeks to burn.
You hear him unzip his pants and line himself up with your entrance. He thrusts in fast and bottoms out. You cry in surprise and he chuckles.
“Feels nice? Mm, my pretty girl…” he coos as he begins to thrust into your heat.
“E-erwin… p-please…” you beg.
“Please what baby? Stop? Why would I do that? You belong to me don’t you? Why should I stop just because my little doll wants me too? No baby, I think I’ll keep playing with you.” He growls and thrusts particularly deep into you.
He continues to thrust, kissing and sucking up your torso as he does. When he finally cums he cums all over your tummy. You cry in disgust and overstimulation.
He pants as he comes down and smiles when he sees how his release has painted your torso.
“There there baby…” he coos. Gently petting and comforting your crying form. “You're ok.”
He picks you up and carries you up the stairs to your bedroom with a soft smile. Softly rubbing your back and cooing nice words to you.
He lays you down on your bed and watches as you immediately relax in the comfortable linens.
He smiles. He notices your mouth is open from your panting and chuckles. He drags his index finger along your chest and picks up a finger full of cum, he paints it along your tongue and watches as you almost instinctively swallow it.
He sits by you, gently petting your hair and watching as you drift off to sleep. His little darling.
“Mine…” he mumbles. dragging his thumb across your cheek affectionately. “Always mine.”
His voice cracks in pain on the last statement.
What a blessing it had been for him to find you.
Now that he had you he’d never let you get away. You’d be his forever. He’d make sure you had all you wanted in life and you’d be happy with him.
He wouldn’t let you get away from him.
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Bestie what if i asked you your top 5 looks for pierre/lewis/charles? 🤩 (actually maybe for lewis we need a top 10 since there are a lot of them)
tumblr only allows 10 pics :((( but i can show u 10 of my fav lewis looks bc hes the fashion icon and i love him <3 in no specific order bc i cant rank them theyre all so sexy:
1. listen yes we havent seen the whole outfit yet but i know it fucks!!!!! i just know like the pants and the tank top and the blue .... obsessed for real
2. THIS CHANGED ME AS A HUMAN BEING IT RLLY DID ..... lewis let me raid your closet pls im begging you .. the local optimist sweatshirt has its own special place in my heart mwah
3. did the harvest/vest trend kinda suck? yes. did lewis look sexy as fuck in this dior outfit? also yes. sidenote he looks so good in blue like he looks good in every colour but him in blue is so hot and sexy and i enjoy it
4. I KNOW I SAID I COULDNT RANK THEM BUT THIS IS MY FAV OUTFIT AND ALSO ONE OF MY FAV MOMENTS FROM 2020 .... him returning to the paddock in abu dhabi after recovering from covid and THIS is the way he chose to do it ... i think i lost my mind and im sure there exist several posts of just me keysmashing bc of this ...
5. silver suit my beloved forever and ever .... and the shoes ... and the glasses honestly who does it like him who will ever do it like him ... no one
6. HES AN ICON HES A LEGEND AND HE IS THE MOMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE BAD BITCH ENERGY THIS OUTFIT RADIATES GODDDDDDDDDDD
7. remember when kimi posted his weird insta stories where it was like f1 drivers then vs f1 drivers now and it was a photo of this outfit? sorry ur boring ass cant pull of msgm like lewis can .. sucks to be u i guess🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
8. THIS!!!!! THIS THIS THIS THIS ...... imagine showing up in your boring ass team wear and then lewis shows up next to you looking like that ..... i would be so embarrassed i would literally just go home i think
9. i need to include this bc i was on my period that day and he posted this and i sobbed like a baby like full on tears and ruined mascara and everything all bc of the beige .....
10. cannot make a post of my fav lewis looks without including 2019 met gala my beloved .... the suit and the curls and the headband and him ... obsessed i love him so much so dearly
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