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#don't know if i'll be able to do the whole week on time
oracle-of-dream · 22 hours
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Stuck
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Minors DNI
(Not Proofread)
Summary: After a prank, you end up stuck in an elevator with your boyfriend whose problem is getting worse by the minute.
Warnings: Male reader, Degreading, Rouch Sex, Lots of Cum, Sex Drugs (Consensual), Blowjob, Swallowing Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Dom!Myungho,
Wordcount: 2.4k
While scrolling through TikTok, you landed on a page of a couple that both took sexual enhancement drugs and tried to make it a full day without touching each other. The loser got some sort of punishment, but only after mindblowing sex.
You looked over at your boyfriend, Myungho, who was innocently watching TV. Would he be able to hold out? You leaned onto his shoulder and he patted your head to acknowledge your presence. You kissed his neck, "Hey babe, would you wanna try a fun trend?"
Myungho didn't look at you as he said, "If this is the orange trend from last week, I already told you I'd peel however many oranges you want."
"It's a new thing! Just hear me out before you say no."
Your boyfriend looked away from the TV with concern on his face. "Why would you think I'd say no?"
You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. "Please just promise you'll hear me till the end," You begged.
"Okay, I promise," He chuckled. Myungho turned to face you and muted his show, giving his undivided attention.
"So the trend is for us to take a sex drug and we try not to have sex. The loser gets a punishment from the winner."
Your boyfriend frowned slightly. "Are you sure that's the trend? That sounds like a waste of money."
You groaned, "Please! This would be so fun, and we can fuck it all out when it's finished."
"We could just fuck now, it's not like I don't want to have sex. Plus, this wouldn't really be a competition. You're way hornier than I am, you'd cave before the medicine kicked in." Myungho smirked at your expression as he teased you.
"That's so not true! I could totally outlast you!" You pushed him, "I bet that you'll cave first. If you do, you have to buy me a meal every day for the month."
Myungho raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you lose, I want the same thing. And I've been eating a lot lately."
You laughed cockily. "I know I can beat you without trying."
"I'll go out, and buy the meds right now, and we can start today." Myungho left shortly after to go buy the medicine. While you were confident in your ability to hold back, you already had a plan to make sure you'd win... You poured two glasses of water and mixed a powered sex drug into one of the two cups. When Myungho came back, you were ready with the water.
"I've got the water for the pill. Let's do this already!" You were smiling like the devil, and your boyfriend was none the wiser. He gave you one pill, and you gave him the cup of water you specially prepared for him. "On three, and you have to swallow it," You added.
Myungho nodded. "Don't try and cheat to win. If you do, I'll break you later," He said as he winked before swallowing the pill and the whole glass of water.
These words made your whole body shudder, but it was too late to back out now... You swallowed your pill and drank some water. Waiting for it to kick the boring part. You sat on the couch, watching your phone while Myungho went back to his show. It wasn't immediate, but you felt your body get warmer. You peeked over at Myungho, who looked fine. You could see his muscles from the opening in his sleeveless shirt. He'd been going to the gym a lot lately, and it was really paying off. He looked good.
You mentally slapped yourself, pulling yourself out of it. That's just the drugs talking. If you were feeling fucked up, then Myungho had to be the same, right?
You peered at him. "Feeling anything?"
"Nope," He said flatly. "I told you this was a waste of money."
"Just give it time!"
He shook his head. "I did. Nothing's happening, and we've got somewhere to go tonight. So let's forget the game and just get ready."
You pouted to yourself as Myungho got up to go get dressed. The two of you were invited to a party, and you've been begging Myungho to go with you. So you couldn't pass it up now.
The two of you started getting ready, taking your time to do so. Even though he said to forget the game, you couldn't let it go. Every chance you could, you would accidentally tease him. Bending down in front of him, showing your ass. Making him button your shirt. Even forcing him to help you put on your pants. But still nothing...
"Y/n. Are you trying something?" He asked as he pulled your pants over your butt.
"No? What could I be trying?"
Myungho held your chin and lifted it to make you look at him. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Fuck. You were instantly hard. Myungho teased you, pulling you close to him so he could help you with your belt, making you press against his hard body. He moved and shifted, grinding your cock against him. You moaned into his shoulder. "Kitty?"
Fuck! Even calling you that name was enough to get you going. He only called you that when he really wanted your attention. "Y-Yes?"
"Are you being naughty? Do you need me to take care of you?"
You caught yourself about to say yes, but the smile on his face stopped you. "Babe! You're doing this on purpose!" You hit him, pushing him away from you as he chuckled.
"Weren't you doing the same not too long ago?"
"So!? You don't even look like you're bothered by it."
"Of course, I'm not. There's no way some silly drugs is gonna mess with me, but clearly, it's got you." Your boyfriend palmed you over your pants, making you melt into his embrace. "Just say you lose, then I can help you."
"You said the game was stupid..."
"Doesn't mean I don't like winning, right?"
You pushed him away from you again. "I'm not gonna lose! Just go get ready!"
Myungho raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to go to a party like this? You might bump into someone and cum," He said as he tried to hold in a laugh.
"I'm fine!" You stormed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.
"No jerking off either!" He yelled from the other side of the door. "I'll know if you cum."
"S-Shut up!" You buried your face in your hands... There's no way you'd make it through the night. Much less the whole party. But you weren't going to drop out yet.
After calming down, you left the bathroom. Myungho was waiting for you in the living room. "Didn't cum on your own, did you?"
"No. Let's go." You pouted as you walked out the door.
Your boyfriend chased after you, catching up when you were waiting for the elevator. "Don't be like that, you suggested this game."
"Like what?" You pouted.
"Like a brat."
The door opened and you entered it with him.
"I'm not a brat. And I'm not mad."
Myungho leaned on the rail. "Then give me a kiss, show me you're not." You pecked him on the lips. "No. I want a kiss," He demanded.
You sighed before giving a real kiss, your lips meeting his gently. You went to pull away but his hands held you in place. One on your neck and one on your back. He continued the kiss as he bit at your lips–begging for more.
"Hey–" You pulled away before he pulled you back in. He devoured you with a hunger you'd never felt before. You danced around the elevator until you hit a wall, making the elevator shake to a halt. "What the fuck?" You pressed a button, but the elevator wouldn't respond. The symbol said you were on the 8th floor, two floors from your apartment. "Are we stuck?"
"Maybe you bumped into the emergency stop?"
"I didn't–you were attacking me and I backed up!"
"I'm not trying to say it's your fault," Myungho patted your head. "We're probably stuck in here until someone can turn it back on."
You sighed, thinking about the party. "Can we call for help?"
"No signal for me," Myungho showed you his phone. Your phone also had no signal...
"No signal, no way out... We're stuck! This really can't get worse..."
Myungho cleared his throat. "Well, I don't think this is a bad thing."
"How is this not a bad thing?"
"We have each other..." Myungho hugged you from behind, pulling you close to him. You could feel his cock, hard, rubbing against you. You pushed back against it, grinding softly as your own dick started to wake up from the action. "We're stuck in this small elevator, for who knows who long... We should try and make the best of it, right?"
"Yes," You moaned as your boyfriend kissed your neck.
Myungho's hips sharply hit against you, each mini-thrust knocking your breath away. "You want it, baby? You wanna take me in this elevator?" You nodded slowly as your body squirmed under his touch. "I'll have to cum in you so we don't make a mess, is that okay?"
You nod again. "Please, hurry up."
"Say what you want."
"I want you to fuck me, please, do it already..." You moaned as he slid your belt off and pulled your pants down. Your cock jumped out, twitching in the cold air.
"You're so cute. How can I resist you?" Myungho bit on your ears, before spitting in his hand. You could hear him wetting his cock, rubbing the excess on your hole. "I can't wait anymore..."
"Me either..."
Myungho pushed against your hole and his tip slipped inside you, making both of you moan loudly. It felt like your whole body was on fire, tingly all over, and it was just his tip. Your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you as he slowly pushed deeper, his muscles flexing and squeezing you. You've fucked Myungho before, but his cock felt bigger and stiffer than the other times. You could also tell he was trying his best to hold back from slamming himself into you.
Once his cock was completely sheathed in you, you moaned loudly at the fullness. "You like that? Full like a slut, and taking me so well," Myungho whispered to you, his voice low and husky as he panted heavily. He turned you and pushed your against the wall, your skin touching the cold metal, and your cock rutting against the railing.
"I–just–need–more!" You moaned in pleasure, each word jutting out of you as he thrust experimentally. "Myungie, more!"
"Don't say that! I'm trying to take it easy... If I don't hold back, I might hurt you," He smirked before thrusting again. He drank up your moans, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "You keep moaning so loud, someone's gonna hear how much you love my cock. Tell me how much you need my fat cock!" He grabbed your waist and thrust harder, his other hand made its way to your hair as he pushed you more against the wall. Your hard nipples were rubbed against the cold metal of the elevator walls.
All you could do was moan and scream as he picked up the pace steadily. You whined and moaned yourself into a mess, looking at your reflection in the metal. A slut, Myungho's slut, but you loved every second of it–arching your back to meet the thrusts given to you.
"Who owns you, Kitty?" Myungho slapped your ass, and a loud crack rang in your ears.
"Y-You!" You sucked in the air sharply from the pain. Myungho was fucking you so good already, but you needed more. "Myungie! I cheated, in the game. I was naughty–please break me!" You told on yourself, listening closely to his reaction.
"What did you do, Kitty?"
"I put stuff in your water. More sex stuff, to make you wanna fuck more."
He chuckled. "Really? You just wanted to get fucked even harder, didn't you? Even cheating to make sure I would absolutely break you?" Myungho pushed into you completely, pulling you against his body as he peeled your sweaty body off the wall. "Bad boys have to be punished," He whispered in your ear as his hand left your hair and squeezed your neck. He had a tight grip on you, cutting off your air as he slowly fucked you. Each thrust was slow but hard, knocking any remaining air out of you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt dizzy, you held on for as long as you could before tapping on his hand. He released you, as you gasped for air, but he didn't give you much time to recover. Both hands tighten a grip on your hips and thrust into you harshly, shaking the elevator. He wasn't holding it back anymore.
Your walls tightened with joy as your climax approached.
"And don't you care cum before I say so?" Myungho ordered.
You already knew not to, but he was abusing your spot so hard that it was hard to hold it in.
"Fuck! I'm gonna cum–all inside you, fucking slut!" He said, breathing hard as he continued fucking you aggressively. It was a few moments before he dumped a massive load inside you, he wouldn't stop cumming and his whole body twitched. You bit your lip as you felt his load inside you. "I– can't stop cumming. Holy fuck..." Myungho bit into your shoulder as he lazily thrust his cum deeper into you.
When he finally stopped, you remembered to breathe. "Jesus... that was so good," you sighed, your whole body shaking.
Myungho pulled out of you with a loud squelch. "It's your turn, filthy cheater. I want you to cum for me." Myungho got on his knees, slipping your cock into his mouth as he jerked you off way too fast. You jerked and twitched from his roughness but moaned the loudest when you came. You came more than you have ever before, more than Myungho was expecting–cum slipped down his cheek as he tried his best to swallow it.
Once you stopped, you both took a moment to breathe before realizing... Myungho was still hard. He looked at you with a smirk. "Kitty, you're responsible for all this."
You couldn't escape him, trapped in the elevator–Myungho fucked you four more times before he finally tapped out. He had to carry you out of the elevator once it was fixed. He apologized to the apartment staff for the mess before rushing off with you–leaving them to clean a heavily cum-stained floor...
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kinnporsche · 2 years
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#KPWEEK2022 ⇢ Day 1: Favorite Character
What don’t you know? You’ve already looked into my background. “Porsche Pachara Kittisawasd—23 years old.” God, so detailed.
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thebirdandhersong · 9 months
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:'))))))
#darn darn darn DARN. like!! tears in my eyes!!!#do you ever want to ask someone so hilariously clueless#like. sir. have you ever been in love. like. have you??? do you know what it is??? to be fond of someone?????? WHAT IS GOING ON IN YOUR MIN#anyway FIRST boy i've been able to converse with about dickens and tolstoy and dostoevsky and theology comfortably and for WHAT#APPARENTLY my brain jumped immediately to fondness rather than friendship. FOR WHAT!#anyway that's on me for clown behaviour and general silliness#pray for me lolllllll i am literally so so sick of this!! i too would like to live life without the weight of this!!#i've had 'i'll come back to you' and 'i don't want you to be alone' going round and round my head for the whole week.#like. my dude you have someone waiting for YOU back home what are you TALKING ABOUT#a note from the logical side of my brain: girl you don't even agree theologically with major points also he doesn't want to have a family o#be a father. and you knew that before he casually mentioned he was seeing someone. like. clearly it wasn't going to work anyway. let it go#but alas it is SO so horribly easy for me to grow fond of a person it is SO so horribly hard to claw my way out of that#i do not want this!!!! i do not want silly feelings!!! what's more i do not want complicated emotions because he IS my friend!!!!#it wouldn't bother me so much if this weren't like the tenth time i've had#some form of hope and reality hit it over the head with a two by four!!!!
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magentagalaxies · 6 days
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#this might be both oversharing and being too vague rn but it's 2am and i'm emotionally exhausted#i can't believe during one of the most traumatic moments i've had in the past year i was lucky enough to have scott as my biggest supporter#the entire time as i was going through it he was so supportive giving me space to process shit and always having my back#and yet there are some people in my life who are always going to villainize him for one comment he said during that time out of context#or even if they're not ''villainizing'' him i now feel like i have to begin every sentence about scott with#''yeah we don't agree on everything but we're still friends and isn't that amazing!''#which yeah that is true and i do genuinely enjoy when scott and i disagree and are respectful about it#BUT WHY DOES THAT HAVE TO BE THE FIRST THING I SAY ABOUT HIM????#and honestly that whole experience made me agree with scott on way more than i started out with#i'm proud of how i was able to grow as a person and for the fact that it brought me and scott much closer together#but that shit i went through at my college was still traumatic. and it did change me as a person#it completely changed my relationship to activism in a way i'm not happy about bc i want to be more of an activist#but when i had someone use social justice language to justify horrible things against me it's hard not to be wary#of how hollow and performative a lot of conversations can be#and like i'll even say it. like people might get mad at me for admitting it#but that whole traumatic situation has irrevocably changed my relationship to gender as well#or at least how i label myself and how i move through these conversations#and in some ways i'm grateful for it bc i do feel like i know myself more and like i don't have to worry about what others' think#or even what other people understand#but it shouldn't have had to go down like that. and as much as the time i got to spend with scott during that time was so much fun#and such a great experience and he was truly the perfect support system during that time#he shouldn't have had to deal with that and neither should i#and the fact that scott somehow got villainized in some people's minds while the person who actually caused that trauma#is instead treated like ''yeah he was a bit misguided and made a mistake but he was probably anxious about it!! he's just a person!!''#that's never going to stop being painful. especially the idea that with the importance people put on labels#i would supposedly have more ''community solidarity'' with that asshole than a cis gay man like scott#idk i think i'm past the timeframe of that traumatic experience bc it's not consuming every day like it used to a few weeks back#but something triggered it tonight so i just need to process it. anyway shoutout to scott for being there for me i really needed it
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daz4i · 1 month
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love my social worker he's so sweet and i love my mentor/guide/one day i'll find a fitting english word for what her role is too. last time i met the former he said they talked abt the thing i'm starting this thursday and said "while it feels like these circumstances may be impossible for you, logically speaking you shouldn't succeed there, yet both of us are certain you will" which is very nice but also AAAAAAAAAAAAA
#they're right like these ARE p much impossible circumstances for me#but i do think they think too highly of me and i'm definitely gonna disappoint them 🥲#this was both assuring yet. like. pressuring. if that's the right word idk#ik there's the whole. 'what if i fail' 'but what if you don't' back and forth but genuinely. realistically speaking. i most likely will#i have never been able to maintain those daily structure stuff like school for example#and while i do hope that since this is only 4 short days a week (with a break in between 2 and 2) and smth i like doing -#- then i'll have an easier time. but. it's still gonna be so hard.#there's a reason i don't go out or wake up early ughhhhh it's bc i hate doing it. idk if theater would be enough to make up for that#and what if i don't like the people what if i don't get along with the directors what if i struggle with remembering lines or physicality#which will make it all so much harder and make the part i'm supposed to love unpleasant as well#what would i do then 🥲#. why am i anxious about this rn. i have a tough day ahead of me for a different reason i should probably focus on first 🫠#vent#sorryyyyyyy it's 1 am and i need to clear my brain out it seems#also maybe i want. advice. or encouragement. idek what i want. here. i don't wanna have to worry abt this but that's impossible ofc#(my mom told me today that she wants to tell me there's nothing to stress about but she knows that'll just be incorrect 😭 and she's right)#(dw she meant it nicely and gently as in she knew i'd just get mad at her for saying it lol. and i mean. again. gotta be realistic)
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theflyingfeeling · 8 months
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still sick but alive, unfortunately 🤧
#last morning when i got up i wasn't at all sure i'd live to see the release of deadzone lol#since then i've been able to walk and stand up somewhat normally without wanting to cry and/or die#last night i slept more than the two previous nights combined. which still isn't that much but at least i did sleep#i did also wake up so completely drenched in my own sweat (from mild fever going down after i had taken a painkiller for a headache)-#-that i had to get up and dry myself with a towel 😂#and there was a huge wet spot (of sweat) on my bed where i had lied 🙂#i have lost three fourths of my vocal range so i can't e.g. laugh#(not that i've had a whole lot to giggle about these past few days 💀)#i'm bummed out i can't do preparations for my new job#i definitely should've started earlier but i would've had plenty of time this week had i not caught the cold at the stupid festival 🤧#i did not plan this! besides i'm not gonna start working weeks ahead for a job i'm not even getting paid for yet#for the same reason no one can expect me to work while sick for a job i haven't gotten a single penny from#hell even if i WAS paid no one could expecte me to work while sick#so i shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to work on my fic instead of the course plans#which btw i already sort of have because my predecessors gave me practically ALL the material i might need#so all i reallly need to do is change the dates of the course plans and bob's your uncle#but i'd like to also study the material a bit before teaching it so that i'll at least seem like i know what i'm talking about 💀#mom said on the phone that i've managed situations like this before so i will manage this too and she's right i guess but 😭😭😭#but yeah i guess this is some sort of developement from last year when i had the 'rona-#-and felt awful about ordering food/groceries in because ''i don't want to be a bother'' 😂
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iero · 2 years
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In other personal news, I’ve finally booked a place to stay when I go to NYC in September, so that’s good. :) 
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Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).
Sigh. Here goes.
...I'm scared of even typing it.
Nope okay I can do this let's go.
If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.
2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.
5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.
10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.
15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).
I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.
Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.
To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.
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lovifie · 26 days
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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️
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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋
Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.
Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism
“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”
That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.
It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 
You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 
But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.
Ghost panicked.
And Simon panicked.
You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 
You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 
You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.
His Johnny was gone.
The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.
Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.
But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.
He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.
But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.
Oh, what a coward he was. 
Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 
And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.
He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.
Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.
But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?
So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.
Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 
But it was too late now.
Maybe it was for the better.
He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 
Not because they would have not loved him back. 
Not because they would have been scared of him.
Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 
Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.
It's easier like this.
Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 
What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.
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You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.
You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.
“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 
You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.
“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.
You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.
“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.
There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.
You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.
“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”
Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.
God, how he hated his gloves right now. 
He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.
He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 
He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 
Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…
He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.
He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.
But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.
It's you who is crying.
And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 
“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 
“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.
For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 
Warm and breathing. 
He can only imagine what you went through. 
You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 
How did you get out?
How did anyone see you get out?
How did you find a house?
How did you survive alone with the guilt?
Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?
Were you trapped under the debris?
For how long?
But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 
He already knew that. 
Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 
It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.
“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.
And that's all that is needed to hear.
Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.
There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 
A scarred, angry Johnny. 
Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.
Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.
“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.
That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.
“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 
You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.
Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 
You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 
And then you kiss him.
On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.
But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 
He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 
He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 
Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 
He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.
You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 
You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 
“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”
“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.
You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.
“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”
You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”
“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.
“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”
Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”
“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.
“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.
Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 
Wondering.
Asking.
What's between you and him?
What's between you and Soap?
What's inside his mind?
“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.
They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.
But Ghost can't. 
Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 
That's his boy.
Breathing and warm.
Just like you.
He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.
Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.
That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.
He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 
Not the greatest first impression. 
Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 
You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 
You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.
And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.
He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.
A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.
The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.
The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 
The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.
But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.
And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 
“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”
And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.
He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.
He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 
Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 
The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.
“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.
“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”
And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 
“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 
He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 
He has made his choice.
He loves you.
He loves Johnny.
He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.
His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.
His blood running cold.
“Johnny…”
It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 
The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.
“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.
“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.
“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 
“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 
He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 
With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.
Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.
Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.
So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.
He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.
But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.
Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.
As he mouths “Fuck you.”
And Simon wants to laugh.
Johnny wants to play?
Then they'll play.
Game's on.
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@waiting-so-long
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luveline · 10 months
Text
𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you get upset when eddie's friends think you're clingy. he sets you straight with some unbridled affection. requested here. fem!reader, 2.6k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The diner is bustling with life and smells alike, people in their summer jackets eager to sit down and dig into a plate of greasy, fatty meats. You're just as excited, your fingers curled into Eddie's sleeve and following his lead as he weaves through a gaggle of kids playing between the bar and the booths. 
"Sorry, sir," a young girl says to him, springing out of his path. 
"That's okay," he says, leaning back to squint at you curiously, "Do I look like a sir?" he asks you.
Pale faced, dark-haired, the remnants of last night's eyeliner clinging to his bottom lashes, you can't say you'd look at Eddie and think, Sir. Pretty boy extraordinaire with a rather inviting smile, absolutely. 
"I think so, sir," you say. 
Eddie laughs at you, pressing a hand behind your shoulders to move you along. His friend Gareth waves from a booth tucked in a corner under a white sconce. Jamison sits to his left, and Margaret to his right. You feel a little skip in your pulse at the sight —they intimidate you, and you want desperately for them to like you, only you never know what to say. 
"Hey," Eddie says as you approach the booth. He pushes you gently to encourage you into the seat first. "How's it going? Did we order?" 
"We were waiting for you. They said we have to go up to the bar when we're ready."
"We're late, I get it. Where's Jeff?" 
"He went to the bathroom, like, ten minutes ago," Jamison says with a sigh, climbing to his feet. "I'll go see if he's alright." 
"He's fine. Maggie, are you coming to order?" Gareth says, getting up with him. 
"Yes, finally!" she says. 
The relative chaos of your arrival has you hesitating in your seat. Margaret left her purse and her jacket on the table, and Jamison his keys. 
"You okay to stay here while I order?" Eddie asks. 
You'd much prefer Eddie order for you, but you don't want to be sitting here by yourself if Jamison and Jeff come back before him. You won't know what to say. It won't be their fault. You'll make things awkward for everyone. 
You stand up again, shedding your jacket as you do. No one's gonna steal anyone's stuff, the bar is too close. "I'll come with you."
Eddie slots your fingers together easily, grinning, "Lucky me." 
His friends order first and return to the booth soon after. You and Eddie get cut by a cranky looking old lady but neither of you say anything, nowhere to be and no reason to mind. He tells you about the guitar he's been repairing at work and you listen adoringly, in love with the shape of his lips and how he says every word. He's a great storyteller. 
A new friend appears once you've ordered. 
"Hey, Eddie!" one of the waiters says, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and fries in hand. "Man, I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. The string on my daughter's guitar flew off, nearly blinded her in the process, would you be able to fix that for me? I'll pay you for your time." 
Eddie waves it off. "It'll only take five minutes, you can drop by whenever I'm home. Why do they keep splitting like that, is she messing with the pegs?" 
"She definitely is. Can I get your number? Macey washed my pants without emptying the pockets."
There's a mad scramble for a pen. You have one in your jacket because Eddie's always looking for one, but your jacket is back in the booth. You promise to make a hasty return and set off for it, glad to see Jeff's alright, standing at the table likely waiting for you and Eddie to get back rather than move your things. You like Jeff most out of everyone. With the whole group collected you know he won't drag you into conversation. 
"She's a bit… much," Gareth's saying.
"How can she be a bit much? She doesn't say a lot," Maggie says. 
You frown. You're the only other she. 
"Not like that, just– the touching and stuff. She's always grabbing onto him like a toddler. I don't think I could stand it." 
"You don't have to stand it," Jeff says. "She's Eddie's girl." 
"Clearly." 
"Gareth, when was the last time you got laid?" Maggie asks, flicking a hair tie at him, to his annoyance. "You're being bitter. They fucking love each other, man, it's nice." 
"It is a little tiny bit too much sometimes," Jamison says.
You wince. You know it's a matter of seconds before one of them turns to see you standing there. Is it worse to turn around or to approach? 
You walk up to the table just as Gareth says, "Yes! Thank you man, she's too–" 
He cuts off when he sees you with a cough.
"Who?" you ask, full well knowing it's you. Honestly, you're shy but you still get mad, you kind of want him to own up and say it while you're there, and at the same time you're hoping against hope they'll lie. 
Thankfully, they pretend it was about someone else. 
"Nobody," Maggie says. 
"Some girl at the library," Jamison says. 
You lean past Jeff with as sunny an apology as you can manage to grab the pen from your jacket. "Eddie," you say by way of explanation, holding the pen up with a shrug. 
You walk away quicker than you should. It's obvious you've overheard. There's a thump and a, "Nice fucking job, loser." 
Eddie's deep in conversation as you offer the pen. He takes it without stopping, but he makes sure he kisses your cheek. 
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay?" you say. 
"I'll be right there, sweetheart." 
To get to the bathroom you have to walk past the booth again. With the hurt feeling pounding between your ears and what you suspect might be all eyes on you, you make for one of the two doors. The summer sun and the dry Hawkins heat hits you immediately, a second layering of smothering to wrap around the first. You walk around a rainbow chalk hopscotch and into the shade of the smoking shelter, hands at your collar, breathing hard. 
Don't cry, you think firmly. Don't cry. They'll know if you do and that's twice as embarrassing as walking out. Imagine how embarrassed Eddie will feel if you cause a scene.  
You sit on the little perch in the shelter and stare at the floor. There's nowhere to look that isn't stingingly bright, the sun in the white-blue sky glaring down on you and the sidewalk bleached a blinding ivory. You close your eyes against it. Your shoulders hunch in protectively. Your hands find their way to your face. 
Like a toddler, Gareth said. You press your fingertips into your eyes, fighting against the ache. Is that true? Are you childish in how much you rely on Eddie? You take his hand and his arm, you catch onto his clothes when you're worried, you step behind him when you're overwhelmed. 
"Shit," you whisper. 
The breeze washing over you does little to cool you down. You must sit there for a handful of minutes, worried and nauseous. 
"Hey," Eddie says gently. You flinch despite his best efforts not to startle you. 
He looks tall outlined by the sun. 
"You okay?" he asks. 
"I just wanted some fresh air," you say. 
He raises his brows slightly. "That why Gareth just apologised to me?" 
You wince as he sits down. All of you wants to sag into his side, but a small voice tells you not to. You stay ramrod straight, hands pressed flat and clammy to your knees. 
Eddie gives your elbow a rub. His thumb digs into soft skin and the harder suggestion of cartilage and bone before sliding up. He uses touch often to convey silent reassurement. This seems to say, I don't know what happened, but I'm here. 
"I'm fine. We can go back inside," you say, attempting to fool him. 
"There's no rush." His voice tips to a low, rough register. He's keyed in to your upset, no doubt about it. "It's a nice day, babe." 
He gives you a minute. The small feathering of clouds skirts one edge of the horizon to the other, the shadow of the diner stretching tall as the sun lazes down. You push the worst of your feelings from your mind. It's easy to do with such an unshakeable support at your side, his fingers curling down to your forearm, vying for a hand to hold. 
"I heard your friends talking about me. It wasn't all nice," you confess. 
"Assholes." 
You glance at his face. He has a crease between his brows. 
"Well, mostly Gareth. He said that I… act like a kid. A toddler, that I'm too much, at least for him to stand. And don't get me wrong, Eds, I'm not thrilled that they were talking about me, but I guess I…" You take a short breath and look away from him. "I hate that it's true." 
"You can be mad when people talk shit. I'm mad," he says. "He said you're like a toddler?" He shuffles closer to you on the bench. "Babe, it's not true, okay? You're not too much. Fuck, we're here to hang out and they can't wait ten minutes to run their mouths–" 
"It wasn't like that, it was just Gareth." Gareth's always been the selfish friend. 
"He doesn't get a pass for saying something shitty 'cos he's always shitty. I brought you here," —you peek at him, recognising upset in his tone even when it's the barest inkling— "knowing you didn't really want to come because you get so nervous," —he sounds pained for you— "I fucking told him to leave you alone. I said we wouldn't come around if he didn't stop being a mood killer." 
You worry at your bottom lip. "Maybe that's kind of his point, Eds. You have to look out for me. You had to ask someone to be nice to me 'cos I can't handle it–" 
"You don't have to handle it. The people around you should be nice to you. This isn't high school, you don't have to put up with it, and I told him that." Eddie grabs your arm with the hand that isn't tangled in yours and turns you to face him. "I'm sorry," he says, almost a murmur, "I didn't invite you today to have you humiliated." 
You're feeling a little mortified by the passion of his feelings. He's mad at the wrong person, isn't he? "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who clings to you." 
"I want you to." Eddie holds your eyes, brown and big and imploring you to listen, the starts of his brows sewing together. "I'm sorry because it's not fair. And because Gareth was a dick to you. And for getting mad." He smiles at you ruefully. "I'm being a dick, too." 
"In what world?" 
Eddie leans in slowly, giving you enough time to close your eyes as his nose bumps into yours, encouraging your head up to allow for a kiss. He kisses twice, a third time, pulling away to rub your bottom lip. 
"Are you really upset?" he asks softly. 
You know whatever answer you give him is one he's okay with. 
"I feel so embarrassed," you say. "They knew that I overheard them. Now I feel like I'll be constantly worried about how much I'm touching you." 
"Well, that's their problem. That doesn't say shit about you," Eddie says, wrinkling his nose. 
"I'm really not too much?" you ask. He can likely hear how desperate you are for a kind answer, your throat burning with the effort it takes to stave off tears. 
"You've never been too much. I'm the too-much one. You wouldn't even hold my hand when we first started dating, you remember that? We'd go to the movies and you'd get so flustered when I bought your ticket." Eddie's arms wrap around your waist, the breeze ruffling his sweet curls and sending gusts of his smell your way. You're a goner, dropping your face into his shoulder. "Do you remember that?" he asks again, his face slipping down to yours as he hugs you close. "The first time we went to the Hawk together, I went first, and I don't know why you thought you'd have to buy your own ticket but you got all quiet when I got yours, too. I loved that. You know what I loved even more than that?" 
You smile, knowing he's going to say something lovely. "What?" you ask. 
"I loved how proud you were to sit down with me. You wouldn't hold my hand but you'd put your cheek on my shoulder just like this." 
Eddie rubs the tip of his nose against your temple. "I love how much you want to be near me," he says. "It's not childish, is it? If being closer to me makes you feel better, there's nothing wrong with that. Gareth's just jealous 'cos he isn't getting laid." 
"That's what Maggie said." You laugh. 
"Maggie's a good one. She makes Gareth bearable, kind of." 
You feel the stretch of his back under your hands. Your head is pounding from the sudden rush of big emotions, your tongue dry and throat aching, but you don't have a lick of urgency to get up and go back in. 
"He's such a dick," you whisper. 
Eddie laughs, patting your back. "Such a fucking dick." 
"I can't help being a loser and wanting to hug you so much," you say. You're joking now, but it's true all the same. 
"I tempt the untemptable," he says agreeably.
You laugh and lift up a bit to hug him harder, your face pressing into his neck. 
"You're not a loser," he says more seriously. "You know that, right? What Gareth said, it's not okay, but there's no accounting for idiocy." Eddie sits back on the bench, taking your forearms into his hands for some more soft massaging. "He can think whatever he likes, I'm not the government, but he was wrong, and also it's rude and, again, super shitty of him to do that here. So with your blessing I'm gonna punch him in the face." 
"Nooooo," you murmur. 
"Very soft no. Taking it for a yes."
"Eddie, you can't hit Gareth."
"He should watch his mouth, then." 
You reach up for a second hug. You love that he prioritised how you felt, as well as how eager he is to stick up for you —how mad he is on your behalf. 
"He's trying to take this away from me," Eddie says, leaning back under your weight, arms crossing behind your spine. He looks up at you like you've stolen his breath, lips parted and teeth peeking out with his smile. 
"Do you really want to punch him?" you ask. You sound very fond.
"I hate that he made you feel bad about yourself. And he irritates me." 
"But…" 
Eddie hums like he's thinking for a moment. "No, I definitely still want to hit him." 
You tuck a curl away from his cheek tenderly. "Thanks for wanting to defend my honour, Eds," you say.
"I'm on your side through everything." He looks ridiculously pretty saying such a ridiculously lovely thing. "That's how we work, right? You're on my side too?" 
Your face flushes with heat. "Of course I am, baby." 
"Good. Unrelated to our previous conversation, how much money do you have, roughly? In case I need financial aid in the coming days." He drops his voice to a whisper, "How much even is bail lately?" 
You cup his cheek. "We can't afford it," you whisper back. 
"Typical." 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!♡
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astonmartinii · 10 months
Text
you and me got a whole lotta history | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x historian!reader
y/n is a historian and it’s not her fault her bf’s job takes him all around the world…
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 102,561 others
location: melbourne 📍
yourusername: so it’s the australian grand prix and i’ve spent the start of the week exploring this old city. one of my stops was the historic old melbourne gaol. this now museum was once a prison that housed some of the most feared criminals in australian history. constructed in 1839, the old melbourne gaol saw 133 hanged for their crimes between 1845 and 1924. it was briefly used during world war two but ceased operation as a prison in 1924 and was renovated to be part of the RMIT university and the museum it is today. a definite must if you’re visiting melbourne !!
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user1: my fave part of the race week is y/n’s museum recommendations tbf
user2: i can vision charles being dragged around this place hating his life
charles_leclerc: the things we do for love
yourusername: you said you enjoyed it :(
charles_leclerc: I DID
user2: oops
yourusername: i’ll leave you at the hotel next time
charles_leclerc: it was scary but i enjoyed it because i was with you
yourusername: okay that’s better
danielricciardo: so my farm isn’t good enough for you
yourusername: noooooo danny i thought we were going after the race?
danielricciardo: oof my bad
user3: petition for there to be a teds notebook but it’s y/n giving us a historical guide to the city the race is in
f1: we’re listening @skysportsf1
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderica ferrari and 788,341 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: tough race in melbourne but a beautiful city regardless
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user4: HE served, we don’t talk about the race
yourusername: i don’t mean to say i told you so but i did say our day trip would be the best part
user5: girl you’re gonna get banned from the ferrari garage
yourusername: they deserve far worse than what i’m saying let’s be real
user5: true
user6: i love how charles didn’t reply ferrari has his ass ON LOCK
carlossainz55: we'll come back stronger
danielricciardo: we can all commiserate at my farm bro
charles_leclerc: your farm better be as good as you're saying now
danielricciardo: nervously awaiting the y/n review
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 104,561 others
location: miami 📍
yourusername: though miami may be known for it's partying (it's all about the U), charles and i took our monday to take a stroll around st bernard de clairvaux church, one of miami's hidden gems. the church was originally built in spain all the way back in 1141 to the style of cistercian romanesque architecture for alfonso vii. the monastry's cloister was illegally purchased by american william randolph hearst in 1926 and in order for the church to be transported it was dismantled to 11,000 pieces and sent to the us where it was rebuilt and still stands to this day.
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user7: i'm never gonna be able to afford to go to miami so why did i read this whole thing like i'll visit some day?
yourusername: history is important and interesting, always good to read even if you never visit !!
user8: she's like the older sister i never had
user9: did charles enjoy this one more?
yourusername: "at least i'll get a tan here"
charles_leclerc: i feel like anyone who reads about me in your comments will think i'm an asshole, i have fun every time i just don't understand most of it
yourusername: i know you have fun baby (and i love you for driving us to all of these places)
user10: have you considered our super historic frat house this saturday night?
user11: imagine thinking you have a chance when her literal boyf is CHARLES LECLERC
user10: every goal has a goalkeeper doesn't mean you can't score
charles_leclerc: i will run you over
user12: omg ferrari's pr is quaking
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, lancestroll and 112,677 others
yourusername: it is my biggest honour to announce my position as a history lecturer here at oxford!! i always dreamed of studying here and to get to pass on my knowledge to those looking to follow in my footsteps is a huge pleasure and responsibility.
p.s. no worries, it is not full time so race week explorations will continue.
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user13: so it was true :(((((( wait i just read the whole post my bad
user14: so i guess i now need to turn my Cs into As if i wanna attend a y/n lecture
charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you my love - don't miss me too much
yourusername: you sure i can't persuade you to move to england with me :(
charles_leclerc: i'll be there as much as i can be but monaco is still our home
yourusername: always
landonorris: proud of you smarty pants
yourusername: thank you landito
landonorris: so you'll now root for the brits?
charles_leclerc: over my dead body
yourusername: what charlie said
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charles_leclerc
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,209,778 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: super happy for another win for the season but we keep pushing for the real prize at the end of the season - thank you for your continued support tifosi and my love y/n who stayed up all the way in oxford ❤️
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user20: i don't wanna jinx it but like the season is going well
user21: too well....
yourusername: winning looks good on you
charles_leclerc: you look better on me
pierregasly: oh god you've been apart for a triple header and now you're being horny on main
yourusername: says mr. doggy emoji
pierregasly: touche
user22: so charles can mathematically win in either austin or brazil FUCK THEM KIDS I NEED Y/N AT THESE RACES
user23: if she's not there for charles wdc i am personally going to have a sleepover on the train tracks
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yourusername added to their story
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 503,786 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: the autodromo jose carlos pace is the crown jewel of the interlagos neighbourhood. the circuit opened 83 years ago and has hosted the f1 since 1972. the circuit was originally meant to be a housing area but due to the 1929 stock market crash the owners decided to construct a racing track instead. interlagos is often a season decider with fernando alonso winning both his 2005 and 2006 titles here, kimi raikkonen winning the 2007 championship here, lewis hamilton won the 2008 championship here, jenson button clinched the 2009 title here and CHARLES LECLERC WON HIS FIRST TITLE HERE IN INTERLAGOS FOR THE 2023 SEASON
on a real note i am so proud of you charles, i have seen the sacrifices you have made and the unbelievable amount of effort you pour into every facet of your racing NO ONE deserves this more than you. i am so grateful to have shared this moment with you, here's to many more xxx
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user26: i am unwell this is so fucking cute
user27: bro this is so fucking crazy
charles_leclerc: couldn't have done it without you, so glad you could be there for me xx
yourusername: always charlie xx
yourstudent: miss y/n you can cancel all of our lectures if charles wins the championship again FORZA FERRARI
charles_leclerc: the people have spoken
user28: insane butterfly effect of the wall street crash to charles leclerc 2023 wdc
user29: they make me believe in love
note: this was super random but popped into my head while at work and i knew i had to write it !! hope you enjoyed xx
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happyhauntt · 1 month
Text
a grey day — spencer reid.
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writing masterlist | askbox
─── summary: spencer meets the newest member of the department.
─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.
─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. reader is performing an autopsy so mentions of blood but nothing too graphic.
─── word count: 1.3k.
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     YOU KNOW IT'S A GREY DAY before you even manage to open your eyes.
     And really, you’re expecting it  ━  this whole week has been filled with pale pink and lime green with solid, unwavering turquoise blobs in the middle, because you started your new job on Monday and the apprehension, the excited, the nausea, they've all been stirring up inside you for days now.
     Waking up to a grey day doesn't hit you as hard as it usually would.
     Still, you feel sluggish when you drag yourself out of bed ten full minutes after your alarm has gone off. The shower is a no-go this morning  ━  if you’re honest with yourself, the shower is a no-go most mornings, when your skin feels soft and sensitive and your brain can't cope with the idea of a barrage of hot water raining down on you  ━  so you slap on some deodorant and spray some dry shampoo in your hair, tugging it up into a rough ponytail.
     You take your time with your makeup, though; strawberry lipgloss and lots of concealer, a heaping of eyeliner and your favourite gold hoop earrings are exactly what you need to feel better. When you step out into the hallway wearing your comfiest black jeans and a jumper that's probably smart enough to pass the dress code, hearing your daughter giggling in the kitchen, the grey day lightens a little.
     It gets even better when your sister-in-law presses a travel mug of iced coffee into your hands.
     "Jackie, I fucking adore you," you say around a mouthful of delicious, soul-quenching caffeinated goodness. You’d half-expected Jackie to have something planned. Four years of living together means that Jackie tends to know about your off days before you do.
     The other woman suppresses a smile, coupled with a sharp look. "There's a three-year-old right there!"
     You snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. As if you don't have this conversation every single day. "Nellie knows not to repeat what I say." You turn to your daughter, your heart swelling three sizes as the little girl at the kitchen table looks up from her drawing. "Nell, baby, what am I always telling you?"
     "Don't go home with strangers."
     "Well, yeah, but I meant the other thing."
     The little girl brightens, revealing a missing front tooth. "If Aunt Jackie won't say it, then I shouldn't say it."
      You giggle, scurrying over to drop a kiss on your daughter's forehead. "Exactly right, my little love."
     When you turn back toward the kitchen counter, your sister-in-law's face is painted with an affronted look, her mouth half-open. "I can say bad words!"
      You wrinkle your nose. "I'll believe that when I see it."
     By the time you leave the house, sliding into your car with a second cup of iced coffee in hand, the day has lightened to a pale blue. You hope it will stay that way.
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     "YOU LOOK SO TIRED, DUDE."
     Well, alright, he'll admit it wasn't the first thing he was expecting to hear when he entered the coroner's office. It's been a while since he ventured down to the morgue, sure, but Dr. Peterson has never talked to him like that before, and he's fairly certain not that much has changed in the three-or-so weeks it's been.
     And Spencer's observant. He prides himself on being able to notice things, tiny details other people seem to miss, things that are so obvious to him that he can't comprehend how normal people can't see them.
     So if anyone asks, he'll never admit that it took a full twelve seconds before he realised that the girl in the white lab coat, elbow-deep in an open chest cavity, is definitely not Dr. Peterson.
     "Uh..."
     It's the most intelligent response he can muster in the moment.
     "It's okay," you add, hardly bothering to look up from the corpse. "I'm tired too. And you're not the worst-looking guy in the room." You jerk your head at the dead guy on the table. "Although I'd say that's a pretty low bar, all things considered."
     "Where's Dr. Peterson?"
     "He retired. Or got a promotion, I think? Not totally sure." You shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd met most of the department already, but I don't recognise you.” You tell him your name, squinting at him through your plastic glasses.”I’m the new... coroner, medical examiner, pathologist, dancing monkey? They didn't totally specify the position when they offered it, which I think says more about me than anything else."
     Spencer blinks. He's not totally sure he's ever met anyone who could talk nearly as fast as him before. "Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit. Nice to meet you."
     "Oh, cool!" The liver in your hands gives a wet squelch as you drop it into a metal dish. "I'm under the BAU! I answer to your Section Chief, um, Agent Strauss? She's a little harsh, huh? I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." You hold both hands up, mimicking a surrender, showing off the blue medical gloves slick with blood.
     An inkling of a smile creeps onto Spencer's face. "I don't shake hands."
     "That's fair," you say with a shrug. "Can I help you, Dr. Reid, or did you get lost looking for the cafeteria?"
     “No, actually.” He remembers the files he was supposed to show you and reaches into his satchel. The intensity of your gaze is like lasers on his skin and he can’t help but fumble, almost sending a stack of documents scattering across the floor.
     When he looks back up at you, cheeks flushed rosy, your stare hasn’t wavered even slightly. Amusement lingers in your eyes.
     He clears his throat and holds out the files as if they are a peace offering. He doesn’t quite understand whether a battle has been fought, but he definitely feels like he lost one. “Hotch— uh, Agent Hotchner sent the Howard County ME’s report on the Richardson case. He wanted you to look it over and sign off before they file it for the District Attorney.”
     You nod at him. The corner of your mouth quirks a little at his stuttering. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so immediately endeared to somebody before, but there he is, blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s so adorable.
     “Sure, I can do that,” you say. “Just pop it on the desk over there and I’ll get on with it when I’m done here. Can’t get any bodily fluids on the paperwork, y’know? That’d be a nightmare.”
     The volume of your laugh startles him, and he jerks slightly. The sound of it is loud and warm and it should really freak him out, considering you’re wrist-deep in a cadaver and cackling like a maniac, but it doesn’t. It’s actually kind of sweet.
     “If that’s all, Dr, Reid, I’d like to finish rooting through this guy’s insides so I can sew him back up.” Your words are an obvious dismissal, but he doesn’t feel offended, not with the kind smile still adorning your features.
     He nods and backs away. His feet feel a little numb. “Sure thing. I’ll, uh, catch you later. Have fun!”
     “I’m sure I will.”
     You sound like you’re about to laugh again. Have fun, really? He knows he’s fairly inept when it comes to women, but have fun? He scurries out of the morgue and back into the land of the living, and as Spencer boards the elevator all he can think is that he’s so glad Derek wasn’t there to witness that.
     He’s certain he’d never live it down.
     Meanwhile you resume your autopsy with an odd, fuzzy feeling in your chest. You start to hum beneath your breath, a song that must have played on the radio while you were driving to work.
     Your grey day feels a little pink at the edges.
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marvelfanfics1 · 3 months
Note
Hi, could you do a Rafe x little!Reader where the little is being bratty and keeps telling Rafe no when he asks them to do something, so he ends up putting them in timeout and after that theres just a whole lot of fluff and cuteness please?
I totally get it if you can’t!
Btw, I love your writings! Happy Holidays!
Moody Princess
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Pairing: cg!Rafe x little!reader
Warnings: Age Regression, reader telling rafe 'no', punishment (time-out), fluff at the end
A/n: I'm sorry it took me so long to answer this but I hope you still like it!! <3
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It's not often that you act up, because you know better. When you do it's because something upsets you. Like today, Rafe had been running some errands all week, barely at home, and when he was he had to leave abruptly some time later.
You were grumpy. He said he would be here when you'd wake up from your nap, but he wasn't. You tried to light up your mood by coloring for a while and it did work, but you just missed Rafe.
In the evening you were still occupied in your designed playroom when he came back home, heavy and tired footsteps making their way to your room.
Usually, you would have run in his arms the second he opened the front door but you just didn't feel like it today, angrily filling out a page in your color book when you heard him approach you from behind, not bothering to turn around and greet him.
"Hey, baby." You did melt a little when he kissed the top of your head. "Come, it's time for your bath."
He was about to go and run you said bath, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard you say something he's not used to from you at all.
"No."
His head whipped back to face the back of your head. "Excuse me?"
"'M not finished yet- Hey!" you exclaimed when he took the crayon from your hand, finally turning to face him.
He was looking at you sternly and you knew it wasn't the brightest idea to rile him up more, but he wasn't the only one upset here.
"Wanna try that again?" he asked raising an eyebrow at you.
You just turned your back to him again, grabbed another random crayon, and continued to color.
Rafe chuckled crouching right behind you to whisper in your ear. "I'll give you exactly three seconds to-"
"No." you interrupted him, big mistake.
You're suddenly hoisted up by your armpits and whined when you realized where he's carrying you. Brat corner.
He sat you down on the mat, facing the wall. You pout, you didn't really know what you expected by telling him no but you definitely didn't want to sit here now.
Turning your head you watched him put away your books and crayons. He caught you looking and motioned with his finger for you to face the wall again.
All you wanted was to cuddle with him after not being able to the whole day and now you're sat in the corner after being bratty. All the emotions you felt right now were too much and you started to tear up from frustration, sniffling quietly.
The minutes went by and you didn't even know if Rafe was still in the room with you but didn't dare to turn your head.
"Alright, times up," he said and sighed when you didn't move, shaking your head while sobbing.
You were bad. Rafey doesn't like bad girls. Bad girls don't deserve to be cuddled.
"Baby, come here, please." he tried again and this time you stood up, shuffling your way over to where he was seated on your queen-sized bed, standing between his legs as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.
His hands were resting on your hips, frowning a little at seeing the dried-up tears on your cheeks. "Wanna tell me what got my princess all moody?"
"Miss you..." you sniffled in response, placing your hands on his shoulders to get comfortable on his lap, burying your face in his chest.
"I'm right here," he assured you but you shook your head.
"Were busy all week and...you said you will be here after my nap..." you mumbled and Rafe grimaced, mentally cursing at himself. "M sorry I was bad-"
"No." he pulled you back slightly to look at you. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how much I actually neglected you the last few days. I promise it'll not happen again."
There was silence for a moment until you held your pinky up to him.
"Pinky pwomise?"
He smiled at you, lacing his pinky with yours. "Pinky promise," he repeated, planting a kiss on your forehead as you snuggled more into him again. "My good girl..."
He held you like that for some time, rubbing your back occasionally and rocking a little back and forth with you.
When it seemed you calmed down he stood up, carrying you to the bathroom were a warm bubble bath was already waiting for you.
                                   ⭒𖥸⭒
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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months
Text
Dr's Assistant Danny
So, Danny has to run away from Amity after deciding to tell his parents about his powers. They acted like they accepted him, but when his back was turned they shot him with one of their Inventions and dragged him into the Lab for Study.
They think he's been taken over by a Ghost and decide to be "Surgeons" by opening him up and removing the Ghost by hand. Throughout all of this, they are just telling Danny that they are qualified doctors and can definitely do this perfectly. But they don't even use Anesthesia, and don't know the first thing about Surgery. But their delusions of being perfect Doctors have taken a hold of them, and they can't even comprehend the idea that they are doing it wrong.
After a week of "Surgeries", they mess up and forget to lock his Cell, and Danny manages to escape, hopping on a Bus headed to New Jersey.
He ends up in Gotham, hiding in an Alley to avoid Civilians and to bandage himself up. Thankfully his parents stitched him up fairly well after the last session, but he is still really hurt. And the cuffs restricting his powers don't help either.
He passes out in the Alley and wakes up in a Doctors Office. He panics, thinking that his parents found him and took him back to the Lab. Thankfully, the resident Dr rushes in to calm him down.
It's Dr Leslie Thompkins, and she really wants her patient to stop struggling thank you very much.
She manages to calm him down, and explains that she found him in the Alley, but that he was seriously injured. He was out for 4 days.
He explains what he can, that he told his parents that he had powers and that they didn't take it well. Not the Ghost thing, but he does explain that his parents could charitably be referred to as "Mad Scientists", and Dr Thompkins figures it out from there.
Since he doesn't have a place to stay, she let's him stay at her place. It's not much, but it's enough for 2 people.
After a few days, he starts helping out in the Clinic as a way to repay her.
After a few weeks, he starts taking on the bigger jobs and starts learning about medical aid
A few months in, and both Danny and Leslie realize that he has basically become her Personal Assistant. So she trains him in the legitimate way, teaching him all she can about being a Doctor and basically everything he would have learned in Medical School, which really helps with his trauma over the whole "constant unethical surgery from people who claimed to be licensed professionals" thing.
He still has those Restraining Cuffs on, they could never figure out how to take them off and they were basically unbreakable, but he was fine on his own.
And a note to add to this is that all of this is taking place in the early Years of Batman, like Years 1 and 2. So it's certainly a shock when Danny walks in for work and sees The Batman lying on a Cot.
Over the many following years, Danny gets used to his life in Gotham. He managed to contact Jazz, and his friends as well, even if they needed to keep it very secret for fear of his parents finding out.
He manages to get on friendly terms with most of the Bat Family from their many, many, many visits to the Clinic.
He never does reveal his past to them, he knows that they would never not poke their noses into it, so he tried to keep it on the down low around them. He even hid his Cuffs all these years. (He doesn't want to attract his parents attention)
But that all changed one day.
He messes up. He accidently calls Jazz outside of their scheduled safe times and his parents just so happen to be visiting her new house at the time. They pick up the call for her, and Danny, not knowing it's not Jazz on the other end, says "Hey Jazz, it's Danny. Just wanted to let you know that I'll he busy with work for a while so I won't be able to call as often".
When he gets no response, he gets concerned and asks "Jazz? You there?"
His parents immediately begin to trace the Call, but before they can get an exact location Danny wises up and hangs up. Buts it's too late, his Parents know he's in Gotham now, even if they don't know exactly where.
Danny doesn't know that they tracked him down though, but he quickly figures it out when Red Hood is rushed into the Clinic a week later after being attacked by "A big guy in an orange jumpsuit with a laser gun", who was joined by "A tiny lady in a blue jumpsuit with a baseball bat"
The Drs Fenton reached Gotham and immediately began tracking any Ecto-Signatures they could find. And Red Hood just so happened to be the closest one.
Now Danny has to find a way to deal with his parents without his powers. Since the Anti-Ecto Laws are still in effect, they aren't technically doing anything Illegal, and their Government Contracts would protect them either way.
He needs to figure out how to get rid of them. Due to the high concentration of Ectoplasm in Gotham, there are many unknowing Liminals in the City. His parents could end up attacking many innocent Civilains in search for him, maybe even subjecting them to the same things he was subjected to.
The only way he can think to do that is to give himself up.
Of course he knows Dr Leslie would disagree, but before she can stop him he sneaks out in the middle of the night, leaving a note thanking her for all that she had done for him over the years. It explains that the people who attacked Red Hood are his infamous Parents, and that they are searching for him. They could end up hurting alot of people if they stay, so he needs to nip this in the bud and is going to turn himself in to them.
She immediately takes the note to Batman.
She still vividly remembers the state she found Danny in. He still has the V-Shaped Scar on his chest from his experiences with his parents, and she'll be damned if she' going to let that happen to him again. (She kind of adopted him as her son a while ago)
She tells them everything. How she found him in the Alley, his injuries, how she nursed him back to health, his story about Meta-Hating Mad Scientist Parents, the unbreakable Cuffs he always hid, all of it.
Now it's a race to find Danny and save him from his Parents again.
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pearlywritings · 3 months
Text
"Bring your kid to work" day
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synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.
pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.
tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff
word count: 2.8k+ words
a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli
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The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.
The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.
Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.
"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."
It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?
Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.
"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.
However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.
And finally Zhongli finds a solution.
“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”
In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.
Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.
“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.
“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”
“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”
To that the boy’s eyes widen.
“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”
“That’s right, sweety.”
“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.
“Haha, it is, dear.”
“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”
“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”
“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”
The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.
Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.
When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.
“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.
“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”
“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”
The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.
“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.
“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!
His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?
Well, what fun would’ve been in it?
“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.
“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”
“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”
“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.
“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”
“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”
“Oh? You love those?”
“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.
“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.
“Yeah… A fee-niks.”
As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.
For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.
What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.
When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.
“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).
“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.
The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.
“I suppose.”
The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.
“That’s good, my dear.”
“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.
“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”
At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.
Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.
“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”
“Dad, who is it?”
“DAD!?”
Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!
Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.
Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)
And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.
Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.
Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.
Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.
By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.
And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.
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taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU
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angelicyoongie · 4 months
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lovesick (XIII)
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— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 6k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.
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You flip to another page in Jungkook's textbook. You absentmindedly worry your bottom lip between your teeth, concentration high, as you look for any information that might be helpful for his assignment.
Despite the pleading look he gave you when he asked for your assistance, you know that he would be able to handle the paper perfectly fine on his own. It feels like another lifetime ago now, but you do remember how quickly he finished up the shared assignment you had in Ms. Eun's class. Jungkook had practically written the whole thing in just a matter of days.
But, even though you know you're not needed, it's still nice to feel included; like you're doing something that matters instead of just wasting away in the cabin. As long as you ignore the crackling fireplace next to you, you can almost imagine that you're back on campus, working with Jungkook in the library like you did back then. You can't even begin to describe how much you miss doing things that aren't just playing house. 
The thought makes a burst of irritation flash through you as you turn to another page, causing you to bite down too hard on the soft flesh of your lip.
Jungkook yelps on the other side of the table as he feels the sting, instinctively touching his mouth in an attempt to soothe the pain. 
"Y/n, are you okay?" He gives you a worried look. 
You release your lip with a soft pop, chuckling awkwardly to hide your souring mood as you say, "Sorry, I think I was concentrating too hard." 
Jungkook furrows his brow with a low hum, eyes lingering on your mouth. You feel like you can see the thought that forms on his face, his eyes lighting up as he gets an idea. 
"Ah!" He makes a small noise, quickly clambering to his feet, "I think I know something that can help. I'll be right back!" 
"Sure," You nod. You plop your head back to rest on the couch behind you, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jungkook hurries to the kitchen. 
You let out a soft sigh when he's out of sight, the sounds of him opening and closing different cupboards fading into the background as you stare up at the ceiling. The past week has been weird. You don't want to call it unexpected based on what caused it, but the last seven days have been surprisingly nice at the cabin. The boys have started giving your tight leash some slack, allowing you to stay in a room alone if they need to leave it to grab something. It's not for more than a few minutes at the time but with how they've been constantly watching you for a month, it's been a more than welcome change. They've given you a sliver of trust and you're finding yourself desperate to hold on to it.
You know what the reason behind it is, of course, you'd be a fool not to. 
The shift was notable in the air that morning you awkwardly shuffled out of Jimin's room, the back of your neck sore from the hickeys he had proudly decorated your skin with. You felt awfully exposed by the six pairs of eyes that scanned you from top to bottom, burning with jealousy as Jimin came up behind you to plant a wet kiss over one of his marks. Namjoon's eye had twitched as he pulled back, Jimin no doubt sporting a smug smile behind your back. 
It had only taken a second before Hoseok had stormed over to wrap you up in a hug, pulling you away from Jimin and over to the rest in the common room. They felt like territorial puppies with the way all of them made sure they got to touch you and hug you as if they were leaving their own marks behind too. As you were passed between arms you kept catching them looking at your neck, their eyes longing. It was only when all the attention started getting a little overwhelming that you ran away to the bathroom, escaping under the guise of needing a shower.
You hadn't had much time to think about what happened with Jimin until you came face to face with yourself in the mirror, the evidence of the night before staring right back at you. Leaning on the sink, you studied how your skin proudly displayed the marks left behind by Jimin's lips, how your eyes held a shine that you hadn't seen in a long while. Your soul and by extension, your body, was glowing in the aftermath of your intimacy with Jimin. 
Guilt climbed its way up your throat so fast it made you gag. You knew that spending the night with Jimin – letting him touch you like that – was terrible, that you were letting yourself down by giving in, but even then you couldn't find it in yourself to hate what had happened. You didn't feel disgusted and that in itself made you feel even more ashamed. How could you not feel bad about letting your stalker, one of your kidnappers, get you off like that? How could you like it? You could blame the bond all you wanted but perhaps it was time to face the fact that you were just weak; easily broken by the connection you had always craved.
You rub your forehead with a sigh. 
Jungkook is humming a low tune in the kitchen, the sound of crinkling plastic accompanying it as he pours something into a bowl. 
You can mull the situation over all you want but you doubt you'll ever get a definitive answer. What you do know is that there is no use denying that your night with Jimin didn't change anything – for them and you. Despite your best efforts, you are starting to grow fond of them and as much as it pains you to admit, you doubt that it'll be the only time you let any of them touch you. Jimin's touch felt right, good, and you're tired of feeling lonely and isolated.
You think the others have noticed your wavering will, their affections increasing in turn. They have slowly been testing your boundaries, stretching them thinner and thinner day by day. You've come to expect the hands that slip under your shirt when someone leans in for a hug, warm fingertips caressing your waist and back as they hold you close. They let their touches linger longer too, gauging how long you'll allow it before you start to grow uncomfortable. Hoseok and Seokjin have taken a particular shine to resting their hand possessively on your thigh whenever they're seated beside you, the placement inching a little higher every time. Even so, there's still some resemblance of respect in their actions, in how they always stop whenever you show signs of discomfort. It's obvious they're impatient to share the same kind of intimacy with you as Jimin did, but they seem to understand that letting you come to them on your own terms is the best option. 
You lift your head as Jungkook returns from the kitchen, straightening yourself up as he rounds the table to plop down next to you on the ground. 
"Here!" He exclaims as he places a bowl in front of you, filled with a colourful variety of your favourite kind of candy. "I brought the chewy gummies you like! If you chew on those then you won't hurt your lip if you get distracted again." 
The unexpectedly sweet gesture sends a rush of warmth through your body, your cheeks heating under Jungkook's adoring gaze. He reaches out, taking your hand in his. A small furrow appears between his brows, his lips pouting slightly as he says, "I saw you spacing out, are you okay?"
"I know you're upset about missing out on so many assignments but you don't have to be! Namjoon hyung has already applied for you to postpone your studies so you won't lose your spot. I'll help you catch up whenever it's time for you to go back, I promise." 
You blink, taken aback that Namjoon had the forethought to do so. You figured you must've already been thrown out of your program by now, having missed out on too many important midterms in just your first month here. The fact that they cared enough about the after to do this for you, does give you a glimmer of hope that you will get out of this cabin at some point, that you will be able to rejoin society in some capacity once they deem you ready – broken – enough. 
Jungkook has such an earnest expression on his face, like he genuinely believes they've done you a favour as he says, "Hoseok hyung even quit your job for you! You don't have to worry about anything, Y/n, we have it all under control." 
They have it under control. The reality of the situation feels like a smack to the face. While their intentions may have been pure, at least in some aspects, the truth is that the boys have been slowly cutting off all and any ties you have to your old life. The implication is obvious; when you're allowed to go back, it won't be to anything you know. 
"What about my apartment?" You ask. 
What about my things? My life?
"We're keeping it for now. It would seem weird if we break the lease early when your friend–" Jungkook cuts himself off with a strangled cough, "I mean, the lease is up in a few months anyway! So Jimin hyung said it's better to just grab the rest of your stuff then." 
Your stomach sinks at the off-handed mention of Heejun and Jaemin. They haven't been brought up at all since that night but you can tell it's only a matter of time before you'll have to reach out to them. The frown on Jimin's face seems to grow deeper with every return from his shift. It's obvious your friends have no intention of backing down and that Jimin is reaching the last of his rope trying to fend them off.
You still have no idea how you're going to successfully get Heejun to back off. You know your friends, you know they'll see right through you if you try to convince them that everything is fine, so how in the world are you going to accomplish this? It's not like you can ask any of the boys for help, either. You're in this alone and only you can keep them out of harm's way. 
You startle slightly as Jungkook squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your ruminating thoughts. 
"Do you know why I'm so close to Dasom noona?" 
It takes you a second to realize that Jungkook has jumped to another topic – that he's talking about Ms. Eun. He's not subtle in his attempt to distract you from your troubled mind, but a small part of you appreciates it all the same. You've been thinking about Heejun and Jaemin so much that you feel like you've started to go backward, like the solution is slipping further away with every new idea that strikes you. 
"No," You shake your head.
"You know I'm not close with my parents, that they didn't treat me well," Jungkook adverts his gaze down to your joined hands, "They have a lot of money, so my aunt and uncle always bent themselves backward trying to cater to their whims. They were desperate for something extra to fill their pockets with so they didn't care that their joy came from my suffering. I wasn't the son my parents wanted, I c-couldn't be. I wasn't perfect, so in their eyes, I wasn't worth the trouble. My parents' obvious distaste for me painted a target on my back and my family is known for being ruthless when there's something they want." 
Jungkook lets out a bitter snort, jaw tense as he soothes his thumb across your knuckles. "The only one that made family gatherings bearable was my oldest cousin – he was too grown to be swayed by my parents. He was the only one that ever cared, the only one that never mocked me for my s-stutter." 
The pain in Jungkook's voice is almost tangible. You can't imagine having your entire family turn against you just because of a small speech disorder; just because you're not cookie-cutter perfect. From the small glimpses Jungkook has shared from his past and tidbits of information you've overheard over the past months, you think it's safe to assume that Jungkook is part of the Jeon family – the ones that run the city, pulling strings behind the curtains without ever showing themselves on stage. They're the definition of old money, seemingly satisfied to have complete control over a decently sized city instead of fighting for power in the major ones. You don't doubt they would be willing to cut Jungkook loose if they notice his strings fraying, desperate to uphold their perfect image. It's clear the trauma of it all runs deep for Jungkook, his stutter always becomes more prominent whenever he brings up his past.
"Oh, Jungkook," You murmur, heart squeezing at how such a sweet person could be so horribly mistreated by his own family. It makes sense that Jungkook would latch on to the other boys so firmly, idolize them, if they're one of the few who have given him the love and comfort he never got at home. 
Jungkook shifts a little closer at the sound of your voice, subconsciously seeking comfort as he picks at old wounds. 
"When my parents finally cut me off and left me to fend for myself, I lived on my cousin's couch for a few months before Seokjin hyung hired me. My cousin had been dating Dasom noona for a little over a year already then, so we had briefly met a few times. I felt terrible for always being in their business but noona said she was always thrilled to see me – that I was like the younger brother she never had," Jungkook smiles softly.
"I moved out as quickly as I could to give them privacy but I never lost touch with them. They're part of the reason I'm able to attend university; they're covering half of my tuition. My cousin held a big speech about how he's investing in the future or something like that, he refused to take no for an answer," He lets out a fond snort, shaking his head. "I really care about them a lot. Hyung and noona are planning on getting married next year, but I hope she keeps her own name. She's too good to be a Jeon." 
"They sound like they're pretty great," You murmur.
"They are," Jungkook agrees. His face suddenly brightens up as he seems to recall a particular memory, "I ran into my mom once, after everything that happened. I was out with hyung and noona, and Dasom noona was amazing at telling her all these half-truths that made it seem like I was thriving without my parents. She insulted my mother to her face over and over in the sweetest way possible and I doubt my mom realized what had even happened until she was already on her way home." 
"Good," You allow your lips to quirk, "I'm glad she stood up for you."
"Yeah," Jungkook glances up at you, his big doe eyes staring you down for a second before he swallows thickly. His cheeks flush as he quietly admits, "Dasom noona was the first person I told about you. I know I shouldn't have but I didn't know how to approach you, so noona offered to help. She came up with the idea to pair us together for our project when I realized we were taking the same class."
"Please don't think too badly of her, she only wanted to help!" He hurries to add, gripping your hand tightly. 
You know Ms. Eun – Dasom – to be impressive just from the many awards and accomplishments she has rightfully displayed around her office. But, listening to Jungkook sing her praises like this, it makes you realize that it takes someone very special to practically adopt your boyfriend's cousin as your own brother and love him as such. It's no wonder they seem so close, why Ms. Eun was so protective of him. Jungkook has a kind heart, she said. Even with his stalker tendencies, you know that to be true. 
"Hyung and noona don't know about our.. uhm, c-circumstances, just that we're spending time together to work on our bond. The wedding will be happening in the spring and noona really wants us to come, if you want to. She's very excited to see you again!" 
Spring. It's not that far away. Maybe four, five months? You have no idea what the boys have planned for you, but Ms. Eun's wedding might be one of your only chances at seeing people again. If you play your cards right, you might even be able to slip away. Escape. 
You try to tamper down the rush of emotion that courses through you, the adrenaline urging you to go go go. Five months is a long time, long enough for you to break, to lose yourself entirely if you're not careful – but also enough to win their full trust. 
"I would love to, Jungkookie," You grin, elated that you finally have something to look forward to. A small light at the end of this endless, dark tunnel.
A brilliant smile blooms on Jungkook's face at the use of his nickname, his eyes sparkling like tiny stars. He drops your hand in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest. It's comfortable, comforting even, to feel his muscular arms holding you steady, your chin hooked over his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you melt into Jungkook's embrace, hugging him back. 
"Thank you, Y/n, that's going to make Dasom noona really happy," Jungkook murmurs. He tucks his face against the side of your neck, inhaling deeply before he sighs and says, "And it makes me very happy too."
You make a non-committal sound in return, stroking his back. It's not the wedding you're excited about but there is no way you're going to tell Jungkook that. You know how devastated he'll be once you run away, so you can spare him the hurt for now.
Jungkook isn't innocent in all of this but he isn't the mastermind behind everything either. His betrayal still stings and you think it always will, but the months you've spent here have slowly been mellowing it out, making it more bearable. Enough that you almost find yourself willing to forget about it. 
"Can I ask you something?" Jungkook's voice is soft against your skin.
"Yeah," You say.
"That night with Jimin hyung, did you... did you kiss him? It's okay if you did! I'm just– curious." 
The unexpected question gives you a slight pause. You figured Jimin would've told the others everything by now but it appears he hasn't. You're honestly surprised that vague is even a word in Jimin's dictionary. 
"No, we didn't kiss." 
"That's good. I mean–!" Jungkook pulls back, expression panicked as his gaze flits across your face. "Sorry, that's not what I meant. You're allowed to kiss Jimin hyung or any of the other hyungs if you want, it-it's not my business. Well, it is? But also not!"
"It's okay, Jungkook. What are you trying to say?" You ask, half-amused. 
Jungkook shyly ducks his head, palms warm against your middle as he says, "Sorry. What I want to say is; Can I be the first to kiss you? Please? I-I'd really like that." 
"Yeah," You breathe, the answer coming a little too easy, a little too quickly, "You can kiss me." 
You can perhaps fool yourself into thinking it's all just a means to an end, but the way your heart skips a beat as Jungkook brings a hand up to cup your face, fingers shaking, doesn't lie. You want to kiss him. Perhaps it's your soulbond, perhaps it's just Jungkook, but a part of you likes him. Enough to make your heart flutter whenever he's near.
Jungkook always looks at you so reverently – like you're something precious. Something to be cherished. 
You can't help it. You're only human, after all, seeking love and comfort where it's easily available to you. 
He wets his lips, nervous, as he slowly begins to lean in. His brown eyes are glued to your mouth, wide and wondrous as if he can't believe that he's allowed to kiss you.  
Your eyelids flutter shut as Jungkook thumbs across your cheek, tilting your head just so before he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, warm, and Jungkook's mouth tastes faintly of something sweet. He moves his mouth cautiously against yours, testing the waters for what you'll permit.
There are no sparks that fly when your lips meet, no fireworks that ignite behind your closed eyes – but a steady warmth that slowly engulfs you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It feels like part of you is coming home, like an important piece is slotting into place. Your head feels light and airy, heart thumping in your chest as if it's trying to reach out for Jungkook. 
You clutch the back of his shirt, leaning into the kiss to deepen it. Jungkook lets out a soft whimper when you part your mouth, your tongue teasing at his bottom lip until he lets you in. You're not sure if it's Jungkook's breaths or yours that are shaky when you slip inside, your tongue brushing just the faintest touch against his. 
"Y/n," Jungkook suddenly pulls back with a gasp. 
You open your eyes to find Jungkook's screwed shut as if he's in pain, cheeks flushed as he quickly retreats his hands into his lap. 
"Are you okay?" You hesitate to reach out to touch him again, having yanked them away at the sound of his gasp. You tentatively settle a hand on Jungkook's knee, seeing his nose scrunch as he lets out a labored breath. 
"I'm fine," Jungkook awkwardly shifts away from your touch, his hands moving just enough to expose the bulge straining against his jeans. 
"Oh," You clear your throat, heat rushing up the back of your neck. You barely kissed and Jungkook is this affected by it? 
"Have you not?–" 
"No. I've been with people before, it's j-just–" Jungkook shakes his head, biting his lip in embarrassment at having to clarify that he's not a blushing virgin, it's just that, "It's not the same. Everything feels more when it's with you." 
"Jungkook," You breathe, a little stricken at the confession. It's hard for you to fathom that your kiss was that special. You don't feel the bond in the same way as they do, your feelings dulled by six other souls pulling you in their direction. For the first time since all of this started, you almost feel bad for them. You can almost understand their desperation in wanting to share something with you, even if they know you'll never fully feel the same way as they do. 
"Please, um– Just excuse me for a minute? I-I need to go deal with this," Jungkook seems too lost in his embarrassment to have picked up on your mood shift. His eyes stay glued to the floor as he jumps up, hands awkwardly covering his crotch as he hurries to the bathroom. 
You slump back down against the couch, dragging a hand over your face. You slow as you reach your mouth, lips tingling as you press on the soft flesh. You shouldn't have kissed him. You shouldn't have let Jimin touch you either. But it's too late to change any of it. And the matter of the fact is that you wanted it – them. It's exhausting having to war with yourself over every single decision you make, especially when you know that your control over them is very limited. You're only trying to make the best out of your situation, to keep everyone you love safe. Perhaps losing yourself in the process isn't the worst sacrifice.
You reach out for the gummies Jungkook left with a shake of your head, unwrapping one and popping it into your mouth. A sour-y-sweet filling is released as you bite into it, coating your tongue as you mindlessly chew on the candy. You swear you have tasted that slight strawberry flavour somewhere else, somewhere more recently. It's not until the gummy is gone and you swipe your tongue over your lips to catch the last of the sticky filling that it hits you. 
Of course.
You throw your head back with a groan, muttering a curse under your breath. 
 It tastes like Jungkook. 
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The air in the common room feels suffocating. It's only a few days after your talk, and kiss, with Jungkook that you find yourself here; sitting on the couch in the middle of Seokjin and Taehyung, the rest spread out in a janky circle around the coffee table. Your gaze finds Jimin's as he steps forward, his expression carefully blank as he places your phone down in front of you. Your fingers twitch in your lap, itching to grasp onto the freedom that is now so close, yet so far away. 
Seokjin seems to mistake the motion for nerves as he gently takes one of your hands in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "It's going to be okay," He murmurs, mindful of the tense atmosphere. 
They're all here to oversee your call to Heejun, to make sure you don't attempt to drop any hints of what's really going on. It's obvious that they don't like Jimin's idea, that they're scared of something going wrong, but it's the best option you have. Heejun will never stop looking for you unless you give him a reason to do so. This is easier for all of you and less messy. The boys will finally get rid of the one person that's trying to ruin their plans and you won't have to live with your friend's murder on your conscience. It's a fucked up, terrible, win-win.
"Whenever you're ready," Namjoon nods.
You reach out for your phone with a trembling hand, picking it up. It feels almost foreign to hold a phone after so long, your fingers clumsy as you type in your password. You balance it on your knee, your other hand still occupied by Seokjin. His grip is tight, tense, like he's hoping it'll prevent you from doing something stupid.
You brush your finger across the screen, aiming for the phone but the slight shake to it makes you accidentally touch your texts instead. Your stomach drops as you quickly scan down the list of unanswered messages; Heejun and Jaemin have sent you the most, but your friends at work are a close second. You can see that the last text in the group chat with your parents is from you – the message only a few days old. You're certain Namjoon is the one behind it.
You swallow thickly, heart aching, as you swipe out of the app. You miss your parents and your friends something terribly, but all of this is for them. You're the only one that can keep them safe.
You quickly switch over to your calls, thumb hovering over Heejun's name and the hundreds of missed calls next to it. Jaemin has placed nearly as many, as if Heejun figured you might pick up his boyfriend's calls instead of his. It's such a Heejun thing to do that it makes your chest tighten. 
"Go on, angel," Seokjin says, squeezing your hand.
You suck in a deep breath as you tap his contact, quickly putting the call on speakerphone. Part of you hopes he won't pick up, that perhaps it'll spare your heart some pain if you don't hear his, but the much bigger part of you prays that he will. You need to hear that he's okay.
As the loud rings echo in the quiet cabin, your hands begin to clam up, your heart thumping harshly against your chest. It rings once, twice–
Heejun picks up, sounding breathless as he says, "Y/n?"
The sound of his voice wraps you in a chokehold. The glass walls you've built around yourself in an attempt to pretend that everything is fine come tumbling down in an instant, shattering into the silence. 
"It's me," You rasp.
"Y/n, gods! What happened? Are you okay? Where are you, we've been worried sick that–" Heejun rambles quickly and the poor service you have out here in the woods struggles to pick up on all of his questions. 
You glance up as you notice Jimin shifting on his feet, his previously blank expression growing more and more annoyed with every question Heejun fires off. Not good. 
"Heejun," You cut him off, barely more than a whisper, but your best friend goes quiet immediately, "I'm okay."
You hear Heejun let out a rough sigh. He sounds pained as he says, "I don't believe you." 
Taehyung's hands curl into fists, vexed that Heejun isn't accepting your story as easily as they had hoped for. 
"Trust me," You plead, eyes flickering between Jimin and Taehyung's evident annoyance.
Please trust me, please, please, please.
"How?" Heejun huffs, "You've been gone for months – months! – without a word! The last thing you told me was that your stalker was after you and then you're suddenly gone! Disappeared off the face of the earth. Y/n, please, what's going on?" 
"I–" You falter, the explanation you had come up with only hours before stuck in the back of your throat. You don't want to lie. You want Heejun to know – to know that you're not okay, that you don't want to be here, but you can't. You can't and you think lying might tear your heart apart. 
There's an ominous silence on the other side of the phone, the line so quiet you're worried he might have ended the call. Heejun's voice is hard, seething, as he finally asks, "Is he there?" 
Jungkook straightens up in his chair, doe eyes wide with panic. Seokjin's grip on your hand grows so tight you think he might be cutting your circulation off, the tips of your fingers taking on an ashy tint. Yoongi and Namjoon look like they're two seconds away from jumping over the table to take your phone back, their bodies taut with tension as they stare you down. 
"No," You rush out, clutching your phone as hard as you can. "Heejun, I–I chose to run away." The lie feels like it's flaying your throat open as you force it out. 
"Y/n, please–"
"Listen to me," You say, the desperation in your voice catching Heejun's attention, "I ran away because I didn't want you or Jaemin or anyone else to get hurt. This was the best thing I could do. It was the only thing I could do." 
You screw your eyes shut, swallowing hard. You know this is the only thing Heejun will believe. There's no way in hell he would ever accept you just growing bored of him or losing interest in your friendship – the only thing that would ever convince him is self-sacrifice. Gods knows you've both done your fair share of that over the years. 
Heejun pauses. "But why take so long to reach out to me?"
"I couldn't. Things had to settle down first. I'm so sorry, I wanted to, but–" You cut yourself off, "I'm sorry."
"I don't care about all of that, I just care about you, Y/n. Are you safe?" 
Are you?
The cabin is so silent you could hear a pin drop. You seek comfort in the darkness behind your closed lids, biting down on the inside of your cheek so hard you know that it hurts the others. The truth is this; the situation you're in is not safe, but you also know that the boys would never intentionally hurt you. Your bond is too strong to ever allow that to happen. In some ways you are safe, in others, you are not. 
You can settle for a half-truth then, just like those Ms. Eun is so good at inventing.
You open your eyes slowly, skin crawling as you stare down at the floor and say, "Yes. I'm safe right now." 
".. Okay," Heejun murmurs. You can't quite tell if he believes you or not. 
The boys let out a collective sigh of relief, some of the tension draining out of their bodies. You notice Jimin giving you a sign to hurry up out of the corner of your eye, your pulse kicking up speed as you realize your time with Heejun has come to an end. 
"I have to go," You choke.
Heejun tries to protest, but you cut him off. The longer the conversation goes on, the higher the risk of him figuring out that something is wrong.
"I'm sorry. I'll call you again later, okay? I promise. Just.. take good care of yourself and Jaemin. I'll come find you when it's time. I miss you," Your voice wavers as your vision grows cloudy, tears blurring your sight.
You don't want to let him go, you don't want this to be the last time you ever hear his voice. You miss him and you're scared. Scared that things will never go back to what they were. 
"Miss you too. Please be safe, Y/n. Protect yourself, not us, okay?" Heejun sounds defeated, as sad and broken, as you feel. 
I can't promise you that. 
"Bye, Heejun," You whisper instead, a half-sob. You hear your own name being murmured back at you as you touch the red button to end the call, the line going dead. 
"Was it enough?" You sound feeble even to your own ears. 
"I think so. We'll find out soon. As long as your friends don't show up at the station anymore, we should be fine," Jimin says. His mouth is downturned, upset, like he doesn't like seeing you cry.
You can only nod in return, not trusting your voice.
Hoseok steps closer, gently taking the phone out of your trembling hand. He hands it off to Namjoon before he settles his fingers on the top of your head, stroking your hair. He hushes you as the first tear escapes you, voice tender and proud as he says, "You did well, sunshine." 
You feel sick. You want to scream and claw at the hands touching you, you want to pull your own treacherous heart from your chest and stomp on it until it stops beating for them and it's yours again. The emotions bubbling up under your skin feel like burning hellfire, scorching your insides. You hate this. You don't want this and yet–
The fire quells as more hands reach out to touch you, to comfort you.
Taehyung pulls you into his lap, rocking you gently as you begin to sob. You should be running away, but instead, you find yourself curling closer to his chest, seeking his warmth. He presses fluttering kisses to your hair, murmuring about how good you are, how perfect, how well they're going to take care of you.
And for the first time since you woke up trapped in the cabin, you actually want to believe him.
Anything to make your reality hurt a little less. 
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a/n: happy new year!! lovesick is finally back after a few intense months of exams and other happenings. this chapter shed some more light on jungkook's backstory and he even got the first kiss from the mc! the conversation with heejun was the final nail in the coffin so to speak for the mc, so we'll see her being more open to accepting the boys' affection from here on out. the poor girl is starting to get worn down :( the next chapter will be more taegi-focused and the mc will finally learn more about their soulbond!
please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter!! it means so much to me 💖
(and you know the drill, please excuse any mistakes until i have time to go through and edit!)
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