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#hope some of these stick out and you enjoy them <3
catmiemy · 1 day
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Another Chance to Live Part 4 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)
Summary: Ana and you finally start dating.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
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A/N: Look at me sticking to my upload schedule. Although I might be able to publish the final two parts earlier since I had more time to write because I had to cancel some plans thanks to conjunctivitis.
I hope you enjoy these two finally getting together. As always, happy to hear what you think :)
After your conversation with Jenni you continued to sit on the couch, staring at your phone as if the device would be any help in figuring out how to ask Ana out.
As it turned out, it actually did. While you were still contemplating, weighing the pros and cons of every option, your phone buzzed with an incoming message. Your heart skipped a bit when you saw it was from Ana, just like it always did. And your heart definitely skipped more than one beat once you read the message.
You read the words over and over again, finding it impossible to believe this was actually happening. For so long you had told yourself there would never be anything more than friendship between you and Ana, and now all of the sudden your whole world had been turned upside down in the best way possible.
A little birdie just told me about the conversation you had.
Hope you don’t mind she told me.
Jenni said you didn’t tell her not to tell me, so she thought it was fair game.
Anyway, what do you say about changing our hangout tomorrow to an official date?
You know as a date, as more than friends.
Ana’s reply was almost instant.
Of course I don’t mind, it makes my life a lot easier!
I really owe that birdie, but don’t tell her that.
And yes, I’d love to do that!
You quickly texted back that you were excited about it as well, before putting away your phone grinning like a fool.  You felt like you were floating on a cloud of happiness, something that you hadn’t experience in a long, long time, maybe never to this degree.  
Great, I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow.
Already looking forward to it.
---
The next day you got more and more nervous the closer the time for Ana to pick you up came. However, whenever the anxiety threatened to become overwhelming, you just thought about the Swiss woman; how happy you always were in her presence and how at ease she made you feel, as if you were perfect just the way you were. Every time you did that you immediately felt much calmer; less anxious nervous and much more joyful excited. 
 Still, it took you forever to pick out an outfit, mentally thanking Ana that she had texted you earlier in the day to at least let you know what style of clothes you should be wearing, elegant but not overly fancy. In the end you settled on a black dress because you could never go wrong with that, and it did show off your body in the best way possible.
Even with all the internal debating about your outfit you ended up being ready almost 30 minutes before the pickup time, because you had started so early. Therefore you settled down on the couch, trying and failing to distract yourself with your phone.
Only a few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. With a frown you went to open it, hoping it wasn’t your parents with some sort of request to help them out. You definitely didn’t have time to do that right now.
However, when you opened the door and laid eyes on Ana your frowned turned into a big smile. You were always happy to see her, but tonight even more so. Finally you got to be with her in the way you wanted, no more pretending to be just friends.
“Hi,” you greeted her, too distracted by the blonde’s mere presence to wonder why she was here so early.
“Hi,” Ana echoed, stepping forward to hug you. You melted into the embrace and turned your face inwards against her neck, relishing in the fact that you didn’t have to suppress gestures like this any longer.
“Ready to go?” The Swiss woman asked you after a bit.
You nodded, grabbing the bag you had conveniently placed next to the door. When you turned back towards Ana, she reached out offering you her hand. You instantly laced your fingers through hers, the small contact filling you with warmth and an overwhelming sense of belonging right there in this moment.
When you were getting into the car you heard the church bells ring and suddenly realized how early the Swiss woman had been. It wasn’t like she was known for being unpunctual, but also she wasn’t usually this early.
“How come you were here this early? Did I have the time wrong?”
That seemed like the most logical explanation, even though you had checked the time in Ana’s text about at dozen times.
“Well, I knew you’d be ready early and I didn’t want to make you wait unnecessarily and maybe get anxious.”
Your heart melted at this. It was so thoughtful of Ana and it showed how well she already knew you. This fact put you even more at ease. There was no need to pretend or try to show yourself in the most favorable light, this woman already knew you and somehow she still liked you.
“Plus I was excited to go out with my friend,” the blonde continued.
For a second your stomach dropped at the last word, but when you looked over and saw the humor in Ana’s eyes you recognized that she was just teasing you.
“I guess I deserve that,” you conceded, “And for the record I never wanted you to be just my friend.”
You were a little surprised by your own boldness. However, Ana made you feel like it was not only okay to say what you were thinking, but that it was in fact exactly what the Swiss woman wanted.
“That’s good to know,” Ana stated, sounding much more serious all of the sudden as if she still hadn’t been totally sure about your feelings.
Suddenly you felt a little silly for not taking into account that other people got insecure as well. You had been so focused on yourself, that you had never considered how it must have been for the Swiss woman to constantly hear you emphasize that you were merely friends.
“I’m sorry about that, I just didn’t think there was any possibility you’d ever like me too,” you apologized.
Ana looked over at you sadly. “I know, but we’ll work on that,” she promised.
“On what?”
“On the way you see yourself! Don’t think I missed how you didn’t believe me when I told you that everyone I know on the Spanish national team likes you and is always looking forward to seeing you,” the blonde elaborated.
You didn’t quite know how to react to such blatant flattery. Most likely this was just Ana being sweet, but you couldn’t lie, it was still nice to hear.
“See, you’re doing it again. You don’t believe me,“  the blonde accused you softly.  
You whipped your head around to look at Ana, shocked that she could read you so easily. Up until now you had always prided yourself on having a good poker face, but apparently the Swiss woman saw right through it.
She didn’t say anything else though, merely smiling at you gently. The silence gave you the time you needed to gather your thoughts. Once again you found yourself being surprisingly honest.
“It’s just because I’m nothing special, I’m just me. I’m too quiet and not very interesting. It’s not like I think everyone hates more or anything. But why would anyone particularly like me?”
In your opinion you had made a good point, but Ana’s eyes were filled with disapproval and sadness on your behalf.
“Because you’re a great person! You always have an open ear for everyone. If there’s anything you can do to help someone, you do it without hesitation. You have such a good heart and you’re so mindful of everyone around you, doing your best to make everyone feel seen and heard.”
“Sure you don’t talk everyone’s ears off as soon as you meet them, but once you’re more comfortable? You tell great stories that always make me feel as if I’m right there with you and I love hearing what you think about things because I can tell that you took your time to form opinions. And to see you speak passionately about the things you care, that’s just something else!”
“Also, I love how much you appreciate the beauty around you. Going somewhere with you is such a treat because you will always point out the pretty flowers, the interesting cloud constellation or the cute dog you see with so much joy and reverence.”
“And let’s not forget that you’re gorgeous. You have the most beautiful and kindest eyes I have ever seen and don’t even get me started about your smile!”
You were overwhelmed by how easily, without even thinking about it first, the Swiss woman managed to list all of these nice qualities. It made you more inclined to believe her. At the very least Ana had you convinced that she meant every word she had said, and that in itself was a good feeling, even if you weren’t convinced all of this was actually, objectively true.
“I could keep talking all night long about all the reasons why I like you so much, but I guess you wouldn’t really appreciate that. So instead I’ll keep bringing it up for as long as you’ll let me be a part of your life, which I’m hoping will be a very long time,” Ana concluded.
“That’s probably a good idea, otherwise you’ll spend the rest of the evening with a tomato head,” you joked.
You had always hated how easily you turned red, your frustration usually only making it worse.
“I wouldn’t complain about that for a second, I find your blushing adorable,” Ana commented, which of course only made you blush even more, but for once you didn’t mind as much.
You arrived at your destination soon after, and you immediately recognized the place from pictures you had seen of Lola and her girlfriend. So the mystery of how the blonde had chosen where to take you was solved. You had never actually been to the restaurant yourself since it was very romantic and mostly frequented by couples, but you had heard good things about it.
By the end of the evening you could definitely confirm that all the praise you had been told about the restaurant was justified. Although in all honesty every place would have felt like heaven to you when it was the location of your first date with Ana.
The conversation stayed mostly light and happy for the first half and hour, both of you enjoying each other’s company and this new and exciting situation. In a lot of ways it wasn’t all that different, you talked as easily as before, the conversation flowing effortlessly. So once again you realized that you had gotten into your heard for nothing. Things weren’t awkward or weird at all, like you had been concerned about.
Sure, there were some differences, all of them positive though; the way you kept slipping from normal conversation into light flirting, how you just gazed deep into each other eyes a few of times, and the way Ana placed her hand onto yours and left it there as long as she possibly could, sighing when she had to retract it because you both needed your hands to eat.
“So do you want to talk about the national team?” You asked, once the last of your nervousness had settled.
Ana shrugged her shoulders unsurely, smile dropping from her face. You had to fight the urge to take it back and apologize for probing; reminding yourself about the conversation you had had after the game against Barcelona. It was okay to ask, and if the Swiss woman actually didn’t want to talk about it, she would tell you. Still, this went entirely against your instinct.
“It’s just such a frustrating situation. Inka is a horrible coach! At least for us, maybe it’s just not a good fit, I don’t know, but for us it doesn’t work. We’re playing badly and the atmosphere at camp isn’t how it used to be. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing like what I heard about Spain, but everyone was kind of in a state of constant annoyance and was so happy when we could leave.”
“And the worst thing is that the home Euros is coming closer everyday and I wanted that to be the crowning moment of my career. Maybe that’s selfish, I don’t know, but now? Now I think it’s going to be nightmare, if I even get to go at all,” Ana finished her rant that had began passionate and angry, but fizzled out into something more like helplessness. 
Exactly like after the game against Barcelona the Swiss woman looked drained, her shoulders slumped and her smile no longer reaching her eyes. It made you simultaneously want to give her the longest hug in the world and go and punch Inka in the face.
However, since you were still sitting in the restaurant you settled on reaching over and giving her hand a good squeeze, before doing your best to come up with a good response.
“I’m so sorry things are like that and I’m always here to listen if you need to rant about it or hold you if you need to cry. Trying to keep in your emotions isn’t healthy.”
That was probably one of the most hypocritical things you had ever said, you who always held your emotions in until you felt like imploding. However, theoretically you knew that wasn’t a helpful thing to do, so you weren’t going to advise someone else to do that.
“And I can help you figure out if there’s anything you and the girls can do. I did a lot of reading and looking things up when everything was going down with Spain. Of course it’s a totally different system, but I’m still happy to help out,” you offered.
A soft smile, a real smile, one that made Ana’s eyes shine, returned to the blonde’s face.
“I appreciate how much you care. That means more than I can ever express with words. To be honest we’ve already started looking into what our options are and have been talking with the Swiss federation. So maybe it’s not quite as hopeless as it feels right now. The next few weeks should give us an answer to that,” Ana told you.
You felt some relief at that. Surely there was no way the Swiss federation would be as difficult and idiotic as the Spanish one. Right? Therefore things would hopefully be sorted out before too long and Ana would get the home Euros she deserved.
“That’s good. I’m confident things will turn out okay,” you said with more confidence than you actually felt. But Ana didn’t need to know that. If you were wrong in the end you would deal with it then, right now the best thing you could do was strengthen her hope.
“Yeah?” The Swiss woman double-checked, confirming to you that this was actually the right thing to do.
“Definitely,” you assured her, praying to a god you didn’t believe in that you wouldn’t be proven wrong.
“I think so too,” Ana admitted quietly, as if she was scared to say it too loudly out of fear of jinxing it.
“Now let’s talk about other things. I don’t want Inka to ruin the mood on my date as well, she has done enough of that during camp. How about we focus on your national camp instead? I heard you almost made Jenni rip out her own hair with your cluelessness,” the Swiss woman teased with a big grin.
Your first instinct was to tell Ana that it was totally fine to keep talking about the situation with her national team, that it wouldn’t ruin anything. But then she mentioned Jenni and all the teasing you had endured, and all of the sudden you wanted to beg her to continue talking about the Swiss team. Anything to avoid speaking about how oblivious you had been.
“Come on, let’s be honest Jenni would never rip out her precious hair or do anything else to ruin her looks,” you deflected, basking in the sound of Ana’s laughter. You would never get tired of making the blonde laugh.
You kept up the banter for a bit, before you remembered a specific thing you had been fretting about for the last 24 hours. It probably wasn’t something you should bring up on the first date, or maybe it was exactly the kind of thing you had to mention on the first date. You still hadn’t made up your mind about that.
All you knew was that in that moment, feeling happy and secure in Ana’s presence, you wanted to talk about it. And maybe it was time to do what you wanted more often and worry less about whether it was the ‘normal’ thing to do. What was normal anyway?
“There’s something I need to tell you”, you blurted out, kicking yourself for making it sound so ominous. No one ever said ‘I need to tell you something’ about unimportant stuff.
“Of course, I’m all ears,” Ana replied, smiling at you encouragingly.
“Okay, so…” You swallowed, trying to gather yourself. „I’ve never been in a serious relationship before. I mean I’ve dated and had flings and such, but never a serious long term relationship. And I don’t know it that’s a problem for you. I would totally understand if it was. And maybe I shouldn’t even have brought it up tonight, so I’m sorry if I’m making this awkward. Although if it is a problem then it was probably good I told you today. I…”
“Schatz,” Ana interrupted you. You didn’t really know any German, let alone Swiss German, but you were fairly certain you remembered this one. The use of a sweet pet name relaxed you significantly; she wouldn’t do that if this was in fact a deal breaker.
“I don’t care about that in the slightest. I’ve never been in a relationship with you either, so that will be brand new for me too. We’ll figure it out together,” the Swiss woman promised.
“Together,” you echoed. You loved the sound of that.
---
As time passed and more dates followed it became clear that Ana had been right. Things between the two of you just progressed naturally and not once did you feel out of your depth because of your lack of experience with relationships.
You shared a magical first kiss on a walk through the city after your second date. Ana’s lips felt pleasantly warm on yours in the chilly night air. After that all dams were broken and you spent a lot of time kissing like two hormonal teenagers, slowly or more precisely pretty rapidly moving on to other activities.
After the first time you slept together, the two of you lay in Ana’s bed facing each other. The Swiss woman gently traced her thumb over your forehead and your cheek, looking at you lovingly. Although you did your best to avoid using this word for anything to do with Ana just yet. It was too early to even think about love.
“Are you okay? Was this okay?” The blonde whispered, her eyes serious and for some reason slightly worried.
You stared at her in surprise. Could she not see how happy and satisfied you were, how cherished and lo- adored you felt?
“This was perfect and I feel amazing. You know I had sex before, right?”
Suddenly you weren’t sure if you had been clear about that. Maybe you had given Ana the impression that you weren’t just a relationship virgin, but an all around virgin.
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but still this is a big step and I just wanted to check in. It’s different when feelings are involved,” Ana elaborated.
For a moment you just grinned at her like an idiot. If you thought you had been feeling lo-, adored before, it was nothing to how you felt now.
“You’re just the absolute sweetest, tesoro. And you’re totally right, it is different. So much better! I can’t wait to go again, but right now I need some sleep. Someone wore me out.“
You looked at her pointedly, but that quickly changed into a smile when you saw how proud of herself Ana looked.
“In that case, sleep, mi Schatz. Because I definitely need you to be ready for another round soon,” Ana said, pulling you against her and kissing your forehead.
It took you all of five seconds before you fell into a peaceful slumber, your face buried in Ana’s neck.
---
However, you were right too, about everything sorting itself out with the Swiss national team. You were eating lunch at Real’s training ground when you heard, willing the time to move faster because tonight you would finally see Ana again. The two of you hadn’t been able to meet up the last few days because of insanely busy and conflicting schedules.
So when your phone buzzed with a message from Ana your heart fluttered happily. Hearing from her was always the highlight of your day. Things at Real were still less than ideal. You didn’t feel connected to the team, most of them still seeing you as ‘that Altético player’.
You were well aware that you were to blame for that as much as anyone, maybe even more so. Your efforts to integrate into the team had been minimal to say the least. And you felt a fair bit of anger at yourself for being so unprofessional, but somehow that still wasn’t enough to change anything. You just didn’t want to be there. It was as simple as that. And you could pretend, but you couldn’t change your actual feeling.
Day after day you forced yourself to be perfectly punctual, train hard, listen to the game plans and analyses, but there was no joy to any of it. Not even when you played games, something that you had always loved before. You were simply going through the motions.
At least you were having a pretty good season; otherwise your disappointment with yourself would have been through the roof.
When you checked your phone you saw that it was a screenshot announcing Inka’s departure from the Swiss national team. A happy squeal escaped you, everyone turning to look at you. It wasn’t like you to be loud, especially not in a cheerful way.
“What is it?” Misa asked curiously.
You simply showed her your phone, a smile appearing on the goalkeeper’s face.
“This is great news,” she agreed.
“Amazing news,” you corrected.
Now you were even more excited to see Ana later that night and celebrate this special occasion.
You were happy that you had decided to meet up at your place; this gave you the opportunity to prepare something special. However, you didn’t have much time, so you found yourself standing in the store after training looking around frantically and blanking on what to do.
The first idea that came to mind was to get a cake with a message like ‘She’s gone!’ on it. But you seriously doubted that you would get one on such short notice. Also a whole cake for just the two of you didn’t sound like a good plan.
So maybe just a card? What kind of card though? You had some strong suspicions that there wasn’t anything like an ‘I’m so happy you got rid of your stupid national coach’-card. 
You could practically feel the seconds ticking by, getting more and more anxious by the minute. Time was running out and you still didn’t have the slightest idea what to do.
Noticing how tense you had become you forced yourself to exhale slowly and relax your body, starting with your jaw and slowly progressing downwards. There was no reason to get so stressed about this. Ana wouldn’t expect any grand gestures; you wouldn’t disappoint here no matter what you did or didn’t do.
As you calmed down the fog in your brain lifted and you regained the ability to make decisions. After having a swift look around you settled on buying the ingredients for Ana’s favorite meal, as well as two caramel cupcakes. As a last minute decision you added two candles to put on the cupcakes, one an I and one a G. This way you could literally get the satisfaction of seeing Inka Gring’s legacy go up in smoke.
Later that evening Ana arrived at your apartment with a bright smile on her face and some extra pep in her steps. She immediately pulled you into a tight hug, rocking the both of you excitedly from side to side.
“I’m so happy for you,” you told her, leaning back slightly to beam at her, before getting closer again and peppering her face with light kisses. 
This made Ana giggle. “And you know what makes me happy?” She gasped.
You stopped your kisses and tilted your head, unsure of where the Swiss woman was going this. It didn’t seem like the kind of question she would ask if the answer was the obvious one; Inka leaving.  
“That you are so happy for me. It means the world  to me that you care so deeply, about both the good and the bad things happening in my life,” Ana clarified.
A blush cropped up on your face and you moved to hide your face in Ana’s neck, but the Swiss woman gently stopped you
“Don’t. You know I love your blush,” she murmured, placing her hands on your slightly pink cheeks and taking in every inch of your face. “So beautiful.”
Of course that only made you blush more. Ana winked at you, but didn’t stop you when you once again stepped forward to bury your face in her shoulder.
The two of you spent a nice evening together; spirits were high all around thanks to the good news. Ana showered you in compliments for your cooking and when you brought out the cupcakes she burst into laughter.
“I love this! Like a cleansing from Inka,” she said in between laughing.
“Shhh, this is a serious matter,” you chastised her playfully.
“Oh sorry,” the blonde replied, forcing a solemn expression onto her face.
However, it only lasted for all of five seconds before the huge smile that had been on her face all night long returned. You wouldn’t be complaining about that though. A happy Ana made you happy.
“To the end of the unfortunate Inka-area and to a better future for your national team,” you announced, lighting the two candles on fire. “Make a wish!”
Ana leaned forward and blew out the candles with closed eyes. Then she turned to you. “Do you want to know what I wished for?”
You shook your head firmly. “No! Otherwise it won’t come true.”
Ana smirked. “Too bad because it involves you.”
“Wait really? Then I change my mind and want to know,” you backtracked, mentally running through everything she could have wished for.
“Nope, too late,” the Swiss woman informed you.
“Meeeeeaaaaan,” you complained.
Ana just grinned at you, shrugged her shoulders and took a big bite of her cupcake.
When you continued to pout at her, she offered you a compromise, “Fine, I’ll tell you when it comes true, okay? And now enough with the puppy dog eyes. Otherwise I might crack and tell you right now and then we’ll both be at fault when it doesn’t come true.”
“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, biting into your own cupcake with gusto.
And honestly just knowing that Ana had made a wish that included you warmed you heart. It was nice to be such a big part of someone else’s life, someone other than your parents that was. But you wouldn’t think about them right now, nothing was allowed to taint this moment.
Instead of dwelling on your thoughts you looked up at Ana happily chewing the last bite of her cupcake.
“I love you,” you blurted out without thinking about it.
Once the words had left your mouth you instantly regretted them. Not that they weren’t true, they absolutely were, but you hadn’t said them to each other yet. So what if Ana didn’t feel the same and you just ruined this perfect moment? Or even worse, everything!
At least Ana was still smiling at you, that was probably a good sign. If she was going to leave right then and there she wouldn’t smile. Right?
“I love you too,” the Swiss woman simply said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
“Really?” You couldn’t help but ask.
Ana got up and came over to your side of the table. She grabbed your hands, softly pulling you up so you were on eye level.
“Of course I love you. How could I not? I guess we still have some work to do until you see yourself the way I see you, as such an amazing, good-hearted, beautiful person,” she told you earnestly.
“I really love you.” It was the only thing that came to mind, Ana’s compliments once again overwhelming you.
“That’s good because I really love you too,” the blonde replied with a chuckle, gathering you into her arms. “And I won’t rest until you love yourself too , exactly the way that you deserve.”
You just snuggled even closer into Ana, a deep calmness filling you up from head to toe. It wasn’t something you were used to, usually there was always some anxiety running in the background. However, the blonde brought you so much peace.
It was something you had never expected before you experienced it yourself. You had always thought love would be all excited butterflies and exuberance. There was some of that of course, but also this all-encompassing calmness, that was in many ways even better than all of the excitement.
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voidcat · 1 day
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— a broken record
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characters: aventurine/you, the ipc, original planets & characters, xianzhou alliance (mostly mentioned)
notes: 3.5k of a beast! Hello, hi, as I’ve mentioned before our mc has a prewritten history and backstory which will be revealed as the story goes on, hence the shifts of perspective you’ll come to see as you read & as I write. Second part of this chapter is an example of this. The storyline begins linear but this will be distorted as the plot goes on. Hsr characters and ipc doesn’t have full of revealed role so I’m taking creative liberties and adding planets, systems and characters when I see benefiting the story. I hope I do the characters justice and you guys enjoy this as much as I do:) love yall bye<3
songs: Too Sweet, It Will Come Back, A Dramatic Irony
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i. it will come back
The corporation has its eyes everywhere; but not all those eyes belong to them.
It is a well guessed and partially accurate fact, that their arms and limbs, eyes and noses spread far and wide, recording every instance big or crucial; watching intently to plan their next move.
The IPC spreads far and wide, beyond stars and planet systems many don't even know the existence of. But as there is a price to everything, their range comes with its cost.
His heels echoing on the stone pavements, Aventurine knows of the strategists and analysts the corporation has working under them. Just because he is yet to meet one in the flesh does not make them any less real, though that’s where the rumors seem to hint at. An urban legend at best, exceptional people all in their own field, always watching, observing, recording, collecting information.
The rumors start after this part, where their loyalties lie.
It is something not many care about frankly, everyone has their reasons to work for— or under the IPC, it’s not up for others to judge why someone would willingly work for them, harvesting data for them; nobody knows for certain whether these analysts travel from one location to another, or stay stationed at certain spots for long periods of time; do they like to watch planets burn and shackled, or are they prisoners of the corporation via the extension of someone dear, with hostages and deals one’s forced on; all these questions and more nobody dares to ask around.
As people stare at him, Aventurine walks towards his target, the classy looking pub across the street, the best and most prestigious in the area, known for its delicacies and safety, or so the people of this planet think.
His outfit is the same, the flashy peacock holds his head high, a smirk adorning his face, eyelids low, he is well aware of the attention he gathers, as intended., Ggo on, keep staring, a voice inside him says.
Like anyone else in his line of job, he didn't give much thought to those rumored, but now there is a spark, and his eyes intently roam the place as he enters, hat in one hand, he keeps close to his chest.
There are signs for those wandering eyes.
Or so the people whisper about the urban legends. No one sticks out exactly yet, those kinds would not end up a myth if they stuck out like a sore thumb.
It was pretty much the same with the history of IPC and how it gets the job done, their tactics and course of action always following a system, even with the risks taken, the gambles taken into account, there was always a formula, a pattern that follows– then he decided to take a look at some records and found out interferences happened.
The why of it remains a mystery as of now, the how does not take much; they hold the information, it is up to them how many cards they lie on the table, how much they keep to themselves and how they name their price. A little rebellion as much as they can afford maybe, is it their conscious or just selfish desire, or to feel that they hold the strings above all; he is yet to find out.
Eyes on his target, he makes his way to the secluded booth, greeted with enthusiasm laced with a little fear. Not many people of this planet know of the outworlders traveling beyond stars, only those who rose to their respective ranks are given access to such information after all.
The arrival of IPC is both something that sent them into frenzy; excitement of the ‘what-if’s, fear for the worst case scenarios. They don't need to know of the fates of those erased from the maps to get that survival instinct kicking in.
Eyes lazily gazing over the marshall and the gambler, you take a sip from your drink, allowing the ambiance of the place to take over.
A delightful tune to your eyes, no hungry gaze locked on you for once, a decent cocktail by your hand and a job almost done. The planet itself isn't too advanced but more or less up-to-date with the systems surrounding itself; or the ones in charge are, which is a great deal considering certain systems and planets’ situations. Better to have some sort of an idea than to jump in blind. The gambler’s interactions seem to near its end, still managing to captivate the small crowd around himself until the very last second, flashy smiles and dazzling gestures. From the air around him and the happy but reluctant face of the marshall, you can safely assume a deal has been struck between the planet and the IPC, one can only hope it won’t bring destruction and grief with it, or that all life will cease to exist by the time that comes; with the IPC, one can never know for sure, when it is resource-rich planets they intent to use and mine.
Sweet tunes of the piano and bass remain vibrating in the air, a cello and a small set to keep up the rhythm. The little gathering dispels yet not all of them leave, scattering around the place.
He arrives by your side sooner or later, still making sure to take his time and talking with few others he must’ve seen worthy of their word or to kill time somehow. By the time the gambler sits by your side, you let your finger dance over the rim of your glass, half of the whiskey already gone, faint notes of its scent lingering in the air.
Aventurine tilts his head to the side, beginning with a line not too daring but equally natural and tame; nobody wants to scare people away within a few words, and he has plenty of time before he is expected back in the headquarters of IPC.
instead of a reply, you grace him with a smile and your fingers wrapping around your glass.
Taking your smile as a sign to keep going, he takes the seat next to you, resting his forearm on the counter. Faking a gaze at his clothes, “It seems I must've overdone it.” he says halfheartedly, in question. The voice of a man who knows all too well what he was going for, a sheepish smile that feigns innocence, fully aware of the cheap acting it’s putting on. Warming the atmosphere, creating an air of comfort and ease, friendliness and truce.
“Cannot say for sure,” you hum, “up until now you’ve had everyone’s eyes on your person,” your fingers relax around the glass, “which is more or less how the usual crowd operates, you only happen to beat the others to the quota today.”
He listens as you speak, noting how you talk in sync with the music. As primitive as the planet might be, the access to data was plenty and right under his palms, yet such small details are lost, he wonders if the music lacks lyrics or if they play it here so, just to bring out the conversations happening.
“Well, lucky me, or how else could I find myself a spot near yours truly?” he exclaims, both of you aware how cheap and easy the compliment is.
“I doubt you would have any struggles.” you say as you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of the ashy drink. As true as it is, he takes a step back, filling the space with a smile instead.
Do you find him so charming that you would allow him to draw near any other way or have you noticed how he stands out among the rest as well– your spot here at the bar does not have the best of view but anyone with a slight curiosity could notice it was a certain class he had a meeting with prior. Maybe it's the difference of status you mean, that his meeting alone would be intimidating. Yet it isn’t enough of a reason to justify this possibly, this particular establishment isn’t one anyone can waltz in, hence the reason it was chosen for today’s meeting.
Humming to the melody, you take another sip. “How do you find the establishment so far?” you inquire and at your question, he chuckles. “I see, I see, I should’ve held back a little, maybe leave the hat back at home, huh?”
Only at his words you seem to notice the hat by the counter, your fingers leaving the glass to play with its rim instead, feeling the fabric and the details adorning the garment.
“I wouldn’t know.” you say, closing your eyes, “But speaking for myself, I’m quite fond of the combination so far.”
Silence falls over for a while as the music continues.
“What brings a lovely person such as yourself, alone at the end of the workweek, to a place better enjoyed with someone else?”
Unnecessarily long, his brain jabs at him, but he doesn’t care, from your reactions, you seem to enjoy the rambling and the coyness.
“Exactly what you’ve said at the end.” is your reply. Nails hitting against the glass, you draw out a melodic series of clanks. You follow the rhythm well, he notes, with recognition and following at hand, it is no difficult feat to speak in sync, allow the music to swallow and put your words into spotlight.
“Perhaps the most prestigious place around here, and a little pretentious in the eyes of some– like a certain face I happen to be avoiding, but that’s where the charm of it lies, wouldn’t you agree?” you change the topic and bring it back to where he left, giving him two options, two different roads to take.
Is it the ex that is pretentious or does he find the location as such; he has a feeling the answer to this remains ‘both’.
“The ambiance manages to be intimidating and capture a warmth to it, too.” he says, “a troublesome ex perhaps?” Why pick when you can have it all, he is willing to take it and where it’ll go, until you put down the stop sign.
“And delightful melodies all around, truly a safe haven at times.” you continue his words. “Not really, just his own person, blue hair to match his soul. It often felt like, with his own goals set in mind, ambitions and beliefs, what other people thought to be pretentious was nothing more than a misconception frankly.” you sigh.
“And yet, too much to deal with at the end of the day, hm?” Aventurine asks.
With melancholy on your face, you only close your eyes and nod with a hum.
“You remind me of him.” your words catch him off guard, a lightning bolt down his spine, he finds himself straightening up in his seat.
At his sudden reaction you hold back the chuckle that's by your lips, “with all the contrast you hold to him, relax,” until you cannot, and giggle, “it seems I’ve gotten rusty, my apologies, I was trying to–” you ramble off, unable to finish your sentence.
Cute, he thinks, and another part of him finds it impressive how despite it all, even when words seem to escape your grasp, you still manage to speak in rhythm.
A new song begins playing, with a slight change of tune and color, making Aventurine raise his head without noticing.
“Have you ever thought as if some songs– music can resemble a person?” Your question pulls him out of his bubble. With your chin resting against your fists, you stare at him with big, shiny eyes. The ‘how so?’ rests on his tongue, “It can depend on the song, and the person, I’d assume.” he plays it safe. “How do the lyrics to this one go?”
You let out a hum in sync with the music again, you must’ve heard it plenty before, or just like it to a certain degree.
“I wouldn’t know.”
You say it matter-of-factly, like a kid stating they like ice cream.
The initial surprise wears off and he allows another smile to bloom on his face, unable to rid of his furrowing brows and the confusion still lacing his beating heart.
His eyes quickly go over the place and he cannot spot a single musician in sight, just an old looking gramophone by the bar, behind the counter, jolting by itself at times, as if giving out its final performance. He could swear he saw a small batch of musicians when he entered, they must’ve taken a break perhaps.
“Whoever’s behind it must be an excellent compos–” “honey, you make this so easy.” Your words glide off with the melody, yet something about it sticks out, poking at his ears, something in his guts tell it is distorted.
Yet you keep smiling at him, almost a dreamy, singsong state to your person.
“What is it that catches your attention to the music here?” He hears you speak, eyes looking for the musicians he swears were there several system hours ago.
Swinging slightly to the melody, he knows better than to not keep someone waiting.
“How it brings out the words spoken by whom you’re speaking.” He states, like a kid answering for a pop quiz they’ve been memorizing for all week long.
“And how it drowns out anything else from the outside.” You complete for him, “that's the main reason this place is often sought out by a certain class.”
He has noticed it too, of course, every planet primitive or advanced, always have their ticks and tricks to separate classes and to feel important in their little bubbles.
Eyes finding yours, Aventurine finds your expression to be distracting, you should know better than to smile like that, naive yet sharp, pure yet knowing, holding the secrets to some sort of concept he does not even know the existence of.
He weighs whether to speak next or wait, but it seems you won’t be making any moves until his begins.
“It must’ve been difficult to compose pieces with such a certain goal set in mind though, I’d be delighted to meet the geniu–“ “Oh, how I wish we too had lyrics to accompany our songs just like yours beyond stars.” Your exclamation cuts through the air like a dagger.
What you’ve said registers a bit later than he’d prefer but his face pales before his consciousness gets to work.
“Oh but you didn’t know, did you?” Your voice tone hasn’t shifted much since the moment he has met you, but he begins to find it grating, how you seem to enjoy toying with him, to the best of your abilities.
“Not many outworlders do, none at all, if we are being frank here.”
“And why is that?” Aventurine asks you, glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, his demeanor a tad more intrigued.
“Now that…” you begin, leaning towards him slightly, “I truly don’t know.”
Hands clasped before you, you take your eyes off him as if this is just some casual date between citizens of the same village.
“But I know what your lot says, that this is a primitive planet at best, just happened to be lucky and advance in certain areas.”
This much information at your hands, you must be among the ranks of government officials. It does not come as a surprise to Aventurine that the Marshall would bring along more than just manpower to an important meeting, determining the destiny of countless lives.
“It is only fitting that the art here has evolved to the form it once had when life was anew and the people had nothing but fire, stones and one another, walls of the caves to draw on, piles of wood to set fire to.”
He takes notice how you avoid using the word ‘devolve’, you must’ve seen something in this turn of events that makes it different to what it used to be, possibly more than just the state of your species.
Not so long after this rundown that you take your leave, still humming the same song from before, Aventurine finds himself wondering what meaning have you attributed to it— and by extension, to him?
And by the time he is back on the ship, preparing his report, his mind begins to forget about you already.
It is unlikely that fate will cross his path through this planet again, reading its name in future reports will be the most at best. The songs however, take their places at the back of his mind, playing over and over when he has just lied down to take a moment,
An interesting detail, indeed, he thinks. But the question remains: was it left out deliberately, or truly only known by the natives of the planet, unable to be reached with no interaction nor contact? Sloppy work or is something bigger at play?
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Ii. a dramatic irony / l’inverno
Luofu is ever changing and eternal, as it ever was, just as its citizens are.
Yet today is not one of those days, today, your countless days of watching, noting, and occasionally drinking tea, pays off; the anomaly is on the move, and so are abominations of abundance. Posing the picture perfect threat, as they are meant to be, you wait to see how fruitful this one will turn out to be. Planting seeds often results in disappointment, for most of them require constant care. It’s the matter of collecting those that can stand on their own that enrich one’s wealth.
The anomaly that was supposed to become an abomination themselves stand between the people and the abominations of the stage, one fist clenching, other readying the makeshift weapon, eyes going back and forth, telling those they once swore to protect to stand back.
It is too early to celebrate but you think a nice dinner in Aurum Alley to treat yourself after the day comes to an end would not hurt a soul. Whispering small words on what to do and not, ‘hey didn’t we keep dental records back in the day as well?’, silently entering in and typing in the name of that lost warrior to their system… such things shouldn’t necessarily earn you a pat on the back– it’s not your fault the people have grown slow and dull with the days of peace they are born into. A tea against the artificial sunset wouldn’t hurt a soul, and it certainly won’t hurt the financial resources of the IPC though.
Your job, though what it entails is often unclear, is no rocket science as the people of the blue planet once said. It’s where and how you plant the seeds of suspicion that matters, how you goad them all the while making them feel the ideas were theirs to begin with, just a little nudge toward the right direction, no big deal there.
Focusing back on the present, you go over the expressions people seem to carry. Despite the fear in their eyes, the people watch the ex knight with hope, chests rising high because they have faith they’ll leave this place alive.
Yet something still stinks.
You have left the ‘how’ of the ex knight managing to live out like a regular knight, stranger occurrences have begun to appear at a rapid rate nowadays, got everyone in a frenzy, even the IPC, which, in and of itself is a great deal of success. With the path of Akivili under the spotlight once more, the horizon seems a little wider for you; creating discordances within the flow of events now that their attention has been divided.
You return to the scene before you and notice how the fist does not only clench but seem to hold, then you recall how the time forsaken warrior jumped right into the abominations as they picked out the innocents lying on the ground– not a distraction but a set up.
Setting up the stage before the grand finale, a knight defying time and logic, you can see in their eyes and body how the rumored impulsive nature has evolved, shifted into a new path, bringing along with it a technique unique to its time and person.
You watch as the lights go out and the show starts. It lacks the elegance it was rumored to carry but you’d not be surprised, this is something borrowed, something learned, without their old master, there is no longer a correct way of applying it yet they still play it like a violin, pull the strings and trap the abominations in, one by one, three by three, they try to attack but the knight deflects faster than them.
Then taking a pause, steadying a step back, they look back and tell the people to evacuate the space. As you watch people hurriedly go all around, desperate to help in some way, one running off to alert the authorities, your eye catches a string not shining like the rest, positioned oddly.
In the shadows, nobody sees, and it the crowd, nobody notices you moving.
Crouching down, you pick it up and place how the rest seem to be angled.
Satisfied when you see the golden, light-like shine return to it; a glance at the knight and you see them move, enduring the hits and swinging out the makeshift bow, performing like a violinist and radiating trust with every step. Nowhere near their master yet but quite on the way and more than enough.
By the time the backup arrives, the young swordmaster of ice and soldiers behind him arrive, you take your leave, pulling up your hood, you bring a hand over to your face, letting it sit and feeling the change.
The Alliance seems to be doing well under the general and from the looks of it, it will continue to do so. The nearing presence of the IPC won’t hold as serious a threat as it may to other planets.
The representatives of the company don’t seem to notice your presence as you walk past them and toward the alley.
Among their ranks employees with duller and duller senses, one might even be hopeful as to think the downfall of the corporation will begin shortly.
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bloodcoveredgf · 7 months
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hiii dru do u have any horror recs for a horror amateur to watch this halloween im looking to have a marathon. i love you
hii dominic!!! i sure do ^_^ some good ones for the season iiii think would be may, ginger snaps, the craft, haunt, killer klowns from outer space, the return of the living dead, braindead, house on haunted hill (1959), fade to black, elvira mistress of the dark, carrie, and fright night! i hope you have a good halloween and enjoy watching movies!! i love you too :]
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doodleodds · 1 year
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Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.
If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.
I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.
I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.
Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.
#p5#akeshu#akechi goro#kurusu akira#wow- me?? posting a valentines comic... actually on?? valentines????? wack. absolutely wack#it's a short one! I purposefully tried to keep it short. it was a challenge and it still ended up being 3 pages. but i blame my canvas size#also in case u can't see what akira is holding out to akechi: theyre chocolate covered strawberries on sticks!#i saw them irl and was like oh god i want those. i am going to project that feeling on my favorite characters so help me god#and now! here we are! but my shitty-ass coloring & line quality make it hard to discern them so. sorry about that lmaooooo#ANYWAY i don't do enough post-maruki stuff so. i made this one a little bittersweet. :)#why did i put akechi's scarf in a bow? honestly i dont know! i think i saw some art a while ago that did that too and i thought it was cute#well. plus i guess there's the symbolism of 'akechi being alive and reciprocating your feelings (however involuntarily) IS a gift' part#hence that hes wrapped up in a bow. like a present. :)#also god. the first panel is supposed to be akechi's reflection in a vending machine window. I could NOT get it to look right#so for reference!!! just so you guys understand!!!!!! thats what that panel is supposed to be!!! he is NOT in fact a ghost. (sigh)#hope you enjoyed and had a lovely valentines!! for my part i have eaten nothing but sweets today and hoo boy will that have been a mistake#ALSO in terms of the audience-participation comic...hopefully coming soon. if i can ever gain the will to draw it.#but at least tumblr has polls now so i can do the audience-choose-y bit without needing to use a separate website! so thats good i guess#anyway anyway anway thanks for listening to me ramble if you made it this far! have a lovely rest of your day and hopefully see u again soon
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good-beanswrites · 10 months
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heyo!! i thought I sent this in already, but I guess not o.O
for the writing ask game, morning! :D
Woo thank you pal! :D Fingers crossed for an upcoming inno sweep, have something with Kazui and Fuuta in the morning
(From this ask game)
Kazui's body remembered the sunrise. His mind wouldn't have thought much of it, stuck in a place like this, but his body pulled him from sleep at the same time each morning as if he were still in the habit and standing on the balcony watching the sun with his morning coffee.
He couldn't quite replicate the experience, though not for lack of trying. He'd dress, pick up whatever drink he could grab from the dining hall before it officially opened for breakfast, then move to the common room to sit and enjoy the morning in solitude. Even Kotoko, the next earliest riser, wouldn't make an appearance for an hour or so.
Which is why he nearly spit out the orange juice he'd swiped when Fuuta strolled in just after him and sat himself down directly next to him. It looked like his little silent retreat was out of the question for the day.
"Can I sit here?" Fuuta said, already taking a seat. He rubbed his good eye groggily.
"Uh, sure! I'd love the company." Kazui nodded to him, trying to hide the surprise in his face. He must have failed. Or maybe Fuuta would have leapt to defend himself regardless.
"I couldn't sleep, okay? I hear you come out here at the ass crack of dawn every day, I just wanted to see what you were up to."
Kazui gestured a hand across the empty room with a dry smile. "Just this, sorry to disappoint."
It was easiest to leave it at that. He wasn't sure how to articulate the reason early mornings were so sacred to him -- the peace and the solitude and the ability to be himself without a single expectation put on him. He could take some time to prepare himself for the day ahead without putting up any airs for anyone. It probably would've sounded pathetic to a kid like him, anyways. He was always so full of energy, Kazui doubted he'd need more than a minute to get himself ready for his day.
Fuuta sank deeper into his hoodie. "Hmph."
The two fell silent. Kazui grew antsy as he sipped his drink. At first it had been nice, sitting in something reminiscent of his old fishing trips. But he didn't think Fuuta appreciated the quiet the same way. Was he looking to talk? Was he waiting for more from him? Kazui had never wanted kids -- not like Hinako had dreamed of them -- so he didn't know the first thing about starting a conversation with someone his age.
As he scrambled for something to say, Fuuta whispered. "It's nice."
"Hm?"
"This. No prying eyes, nobody trying to start shit."
Kazui didn't mention that Fuuta was usually the one starting shit.
"I hope I didn't interrupt."
"Not at all! I'm glad you think it's peaceful too."
"Yeah... I do."
This time when neither of them spoke, there was no anticipation in it. Kazui breathed deep. His thoughts were allowed to drift freely. His mind felt at ease. He closed his eyes. Though there was no need to, he found himself opening his mouth.
"You know, I didn't realize how much I'd miss the sunrise."
Fuuta shifted. "Eh, I never saw it. I usually slept pretty late." He added, "I'm sorry you miss it, though."
"Thanks. I just hope I'll see it again..."
He wondered if the thought was too suddenly sentimental, but Fuuta nodded gravely. "I hope so too."
By the time prisoners started trickling into the common area, Kazui was calm and ready to begin his day. Fuuta stood to leave.
"Thanks for letting me hang out," he said.
"Heh, I should be thanking you. I didn't expect anyone to stick around for a boring old man like me."
Fuuta's expression twisted up. There was the energy Kazui had been expecting. "Jeez, you keep thinking you're so special! You're just like everyone else, you hear? You're not some boring old man no one likes. There's a lot of people just like you. A lot of us are just like you."
Kazui sat for one more moment after he left. He took the final sip of his drink.
A lot of them just like him? Now, that was a nice thought.
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ja3yun · 3 months
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Push My Buttons | L.HS
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bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!
_____
Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.
"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.
“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.
Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.
You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.
Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.
To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 
It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 
Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.
With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.
Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.
He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.
You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.
“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”
Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.
“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.
“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.
Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.
With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.
The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.
“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.
"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt
The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.
Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 
“I don’t work here, I-”
“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.
Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration
But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 
Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.
As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.
You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.
Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.
Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 
You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.
“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 
Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 
“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 
You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.
Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 
This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.
Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.
You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.
Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 
It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 
With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.
_____
As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.
Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 
The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.
A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 
“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.
“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.
Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.
But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.
You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.
His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.
He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.
As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.
His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.
You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.
“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.
Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.
Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..
"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.
"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.
Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.
"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.
"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.
Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.
It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.
Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.
You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.
"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.
“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.
“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.
The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.
You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.
“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.
Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.
Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.
"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.
You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.
Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."
This is going to end disastrously.
_____
"Remember—"
"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.
Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.
You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.
"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.
He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'
As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.
The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.
Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.
It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.
Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.
"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.
Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.
"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.
True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.
As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.
Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.
Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.
And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.
Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.
Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.
This is what he has to tell himself every day.
He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.
As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.
But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.
"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.
You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.
Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."
You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.
Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."
His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.
Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.
As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.
You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.
But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 
"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.
"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"
Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.
Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.
His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.
Either way, you need to get this steam out. 
“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 
As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.
Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.
But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.
Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.
"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.
“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.
As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.
Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 
“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.
"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.
You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.
His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"
“Yes! Obviously!”
Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.
But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.
Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 
He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.
With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.
Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 
Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.
The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.
Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."
A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.
But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.
With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."
“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.
“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”
Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.
He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.
With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.
Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.
"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.
Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.
Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 
As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.
“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.
Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.
With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”
Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.
“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.
Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.
Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.
“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”
Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.
He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.
“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”
Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.
The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.
“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.
You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.
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gotham-daydreams · 9 months
Text
Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]
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How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
--------
Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
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reiderwriter · 3 months
Note
Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
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The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?” 
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 
Or a pedestrian. 
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 
“We're here.” 
“Great. Let me walk you in.” 
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 
“Okay.” 
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 
“About what, Y/N?” 
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.” 
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 
“You're being an ass.” 
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 
“No clothes, Y/N.” 
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.” 
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.” 
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 
“I also said no clothes.” 
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 
“Fuck, Spencer.” 
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?” 
“In the bath.” 
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 
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fireflysymphony · 4 months
Note
Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀
Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader
MDNI 18+ content ahead
A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3
Word count: 2.7k
Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread
Headcanons
Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.
The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.
You should have run then.
What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?
From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.
“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?
The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.
He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.
As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”
In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.
The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.
After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.
The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?
Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?
Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.
I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.
You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.
“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“
Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.
All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.
“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”
“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“
Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.
“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”
“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.
“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”
He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”
“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”
“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”
“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.
“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.
“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”
You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.
“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.
The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.
“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”
He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.
“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?
Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.
“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.
Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”
He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.
Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.
“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.
“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”
He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.
He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.
A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3
Requests are open!
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Text
5 times you took care of the 141st, and one time they took care of you
Happy (late) holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy this piece!
Platonic!141st x medic!reader
Warning: Canon typical violence, minor angst, hurt/comfort, medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, very minor gore, hospital type settings, minor illness, fainting, brief mentions of vomiting, cursing.
1st
“Need a medic stat!”
You rushed through the battle ground, attempting to make your way to the other side of it. This was made extremely difficult by the large chunks of rubble scattered about, oh and the fact they are at least a dozen people shooting at you.
“Stitch!!”
“Soap I’m on my way, apply pressure I’ll be there soon!” You panted, vaulting over some rubble and sliding to cover to prevent getting shot yourself.
The mission had gone to shit extremely quickly. You were just supposed to get the information and get out, stick together and move quickly. You all were not anticipating bombs being dropped on your heads from enemy aircrafts.
They had scattered you all quickly, as each of you attempted to avoid being hit. It seemed as that was their plan because as soon as you all were split up enemy soldiers surrounded you out of nowhere.
Price has called for an evac, but the lack of non blown up landmarks made it difficult to regroup.
You fired off a few shots into the smoke, praying they found their mark, and took off once more.
Going over and under rubble, left and right, in and out, it felt like you were never going to reach Soap.
Just as you were about to start violently cursing the gods for the situation you were in you saw Soap a few hundred yards off from you. To your surprise he looked to be in alright shape, the lump next to him however you couldn’t say the same for.
“Soap I have visual on you, what’s the situation?”
“The situation is Gaz is bloody shot!!”
Cursing under your breath you moved from your cover once more. Keeping low to the ground, more crawling than running at times, you finally made your way to Soap and Gaz.
Sliding in next to them you got to work. Looking Gaz over, you immediately started treating the biggest and most obvious problem, the bullet wound in his stomach.
Soap had tried his best to stop the bleeding, that much was clear from the soaked gauze packed into the wound, but with the need to return fire he couldn’t keep up with it.
You applied heavy pressure on it, praying that’s enough to keep him alive until he can get to a hospital.
“Price where the hell is that damn evac?!”
“3 minutes out, landing in what used to be the hospital parking lot. I’ve got Ghost with me what’s your status?”
“Me and Soap are alright, Gaz has been shot and is loosing blood fast he needs to get out of here asap!”
“We need to move!” Soap yells at you over his shoulder from where he’s returning fire at the enemy.
You act fast, harshly rubbing Gaz’s sternum to wake him up.
His eyes barely peak open, “Stitchy? What’s goin’ on?” He sounds drunk, which with how much blood he’s lost doesn’t surprise you.
“Hey, hey buddy, stay awake, your badly hurt we need to move.” You chirp, trying to keep your voice light despite the situation. “How you feelin’ bud? Can you talk to me?”
As you speak you rummage through your pocket, sighing in relief when you find what you were looking for, a stim shot and some pain relief.
Gaz had nodded off again in the brief time you weren’t speaking, and you lean in again to speak to him. “Gaz!! Come one buddy, keep your damn eyes open!”
“Stitch!” Soap calls from behind your back, the urgency in his voice can not be ignored.
“I know!” Deciding that you don’t have time to wake him up, you quickly stab the stim shot into his thigh.
That wakes up Gaz with a start. He flinches in pain, his eyes now wide open.
“Welcome back to the world buddy!” You shout at him, quickly injecting him with pain relief and tightening the sloppy bandage around his midsection one last time.
“Soap! Ready to move!” You call to him, hauling Gaz’s arm and part of his body, over your shoulder.
Soap leads the way, ducking behind rubble and returning fire when he can. You both move as quickly as you can, you would be lying if you said you weren’t struggling to keep up. Gaz was already fairly heavy, he also has all his gear on him which did not help your situation at all.
You were falling a bit behind Soap, but you kept hauling both you and Gaz towards him as fast as you could.
You were not going to let either of you die out here.
Finally you both reach the evac sight. Laying eyes on Price and Ghost you feel like you can breath again.
You run up next to where they’re positioned behind a large chunk of rubble. Laying Gaz down with his back to it you go to check his bandages again.
When you glance up to his face you notice that he’s awake. “How ya feelin’ bud?” You shout over the sound of gunfire, applying more pressure to his bleeding wound.
“Like shit.” He quips back.
You struggled to hear him over the sound of gunfire, but you were glad that he was conscious enough to talk to you and process what your saying.
Finally, fucking finally, your hear the sound of what might as well be the holy grail.
The heli lands about 20 yards away from you, cruising down to the ground, before it’s even landed Price is yelling orders.
“Stitch and Gaz move first, the rest of us will cover you from behind!”
You throw Gaz’s arm back over your shoulder and haul him onto his feet, thankfully he’s now awake enough that he can help you instead of you dragging him. Once you reach the heli you throw the top half of his body in, causing him to wince in pain.
“Sorry bud!” You shout over the noise of the chopper, pulling him the rest of the way in. You lean over him, securing him inside the chopper, then lifting up his shirt to check and make sure his bandages are still tight. Thankfully the bleeding has slowed down enough where there is minimal blood visibility through the bandage which makes you breath a sigh of relief.
You feel the heli taking off and you glance over your shoulder to make sure all your boys got onboard in one piece.
“Any other injuries I should know about?” You shout over the sound of the Heli.
“Your gonna have some if you don’t bloody sit down and secure yourself!” Price yells back at you.
You back off sitting yourself down next to Gaz. He was still hurt badly, but at least now he was as stable as you could get him.
All things said?
That was a shit show.
2nd
You hummed as you fluttered around the med bay busily. Moving from one spot to the other, carefully taking inventory with your trusty clipboard in hand.
You were truly in your element, everything was calm, orderly, and you were free to just do your job without any interruptions.
The door to the infirmary swung open, hitting the wall with a bang! In came Ghost, dragging a whining Soap behind him.
Ghost looked seriously pissed off, his eyebrows were noticeably furrowed under his balaclava and his shoulders were hunched. If you were to rely on context clues the only reason Soap was here was because of Ghost’s firm grip on his bicep.
“Can I help you?” You ask, face completely dead-pan.
Ghost doesn’t respond, just roughly pushes Soap towards you. Now that you have a better look at him you can see that his shoulder looks… wrong to say the least.
“What did you do this time?” You sigh, walking over to grab Soap by his ear.
“Owww” Soap whines “Sure! Pick on the injured person why don’t ya?”
“How do you always get injured at base but never on missions?” You taunt, pulling Soap over to the nearest available gurney.
You gesture for him to sit down on the bed, and when you turn around you notice Ghost, still standing where you left him.
“Either sit down or leave Ghost, there’s no lurking in my medical bay.” You say, grabbing what you need to treat Soap.
Returning to Soap you gently push him down on his non-injured shoulder. “Y’know if you wanted me like this you could’ve just asked.” Soap taunts with a wink, prompting you to sigh.
Thankfully he’s in a tank top or you would have to cut off his shirt, you know from personal experience with treating him that when you have to do that he makes plenty of comments.
“Alright, this is probably gonna hurt like a bitch, don’t punch me.” You say as you put Soaps arm in the proper position for realignment.
“Wouldn’t dream of it la- OW WHAT THE FUCK.”
“All done” you quip, pulling off your gloves. You look back over your shoulder to see Ghost has moved to the foot of the gurney.
“What were you two even doing?” You ask, putting your supplies away and getting different ones out.
“Fuckin” “Sparing” They say at the same time.
You should’ve know better than to ask.
3rd
You can’t believe this. You can’t believe your boys. You knew they could be stupid sometimes but this is next level!
Thankfully most of them had gotten away with minor injuries, and somehow you had gotten out without a scratch, despite not even knowing the plan before they decided to execute it.
Soap and Ghost had only bumps and bruises, somehow, considering they were in the thick of their stupid plan. Gaz had a few scrapes and a sprained ankle, but you patched him up then set him off with a crutch and a promise to go easy on it. And the captain? You don’t even know how he managed it considering he’s supposed to be the smart one, but he broke his leg.
So now you are in the med bay, essentially holding your own captain hostage (not like he could get very far if he did decide to run off).
He is not a good patient. None of your boys are. He complains about being there, says how he wants to leave and how he wishes he could do things for himself. You understand that, but the best thing for him at the moment is rest, and he seems adamant on not taking it.
“Stitch”
“If you ask me if you can leave again I’m smacking you.” You say while walking over to him.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way for me to go get food is there?” He asks, looking far to innocent for his own good. He’s planning something. You just know it.
“I’ll call one of the boys to bring you something up.” You quip, already walking away, intent on y’know, doing your job.
“Stitch” You hear him call as soon as you walk away.
“Yes sir?” You question, turning around to stare him dead in the eyes.
“How long until I get out of this hell hole?”
“Until your leg heals or you get put on leave.”
“Leave?” He sounds actually startled at that proposition, prompting you to walk closer to him.
“Just for a few months sir, until your leg heals.” You soothe. As quick as the startled look in his eyes appeared it was gone. Masked down under his cool captain facade.
“You can have a few months of uninterrupted down time with your husband. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You ask, walking over to stand next to him, setting your hand on the knee of his uninjured leg.
“Have you met yourselves? You all will get killed without me here!” He exclaims, running a hand through his beard in exasperation.
“You’re one to talk sir.” You say deadpan. “Trust me the boys will be fine. They will be better off without you for a few months than they will be if they see you constantly cooped up in here.”
“Stitch, nothing good can possibly come from me not being here!”
“Sir,” you quip as you sit on the side of his gurney, “you need to give them more credit. They’re smart, strong, soldiers, and if you order them to they’ll hold themselves together until you return.”
“You think they can’t behave unless their ordered?” Price smirks.
“What can I say, I know them to well.”
“Hard to argue with that.”
4th
You woke up to a thudding in your head.
Thud, thud, thud.
Thud, thud, knock.
Knock, knock, knock.
As you come to, your groggy self realizes that loud, obtrusive noise is not coming from within your head, but outside it. You go to answer the door, (tripping over your blankets on the floor in the process) and find Ghost standing behind it.
You realize with a start that he’s in civvies, and has replaced his balaclava with a simple black face mask. While this should’ve been expected, it still comes as a surprise to you. They look unnatural on him.
“Ghost? What are you doing here?” You ask, trying not to scream on account of it being 3 am.
He nudges you to the side, walking in so you can close the door, and it’s then that you notice that his black shirt is getting even darker with blood.
“Ghost, what the fuck.” You sigh, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards your couch. “Stay here, I’ll be right back with first aid.”
You run to the bathroom, fling open the cabinet under the sink to grab the first aid kit and run back.
“If you ran like that during missions we might have to cover you less.” Ghost muttered.
“Oh shut up, what did you even DO.” You ask, pulling up his shirt with a pad of gauze ready in your other hand to staunch the bleeding.
You find the culprit quickly, a long but shallow gash along his side. It would need stitches, but thankfully you could do that here.
“How’s it look doc?” He mumbles, barely legible.
“You’ll be fine after some stitches but how did you even do this? We’re on leave.” You question, absolutely exasperated. You all were on leave and you still couldn’t catch a break from your idiot boys.
His response is mearly to grunt and look away from you.
“Alright then, well I’ll go ahead and clean it up for you alright?” You mutter.
You go through the motions, this is something you’ve done a million times. Clean, antiseptic, stitches, bandage, done.
As your putting everything away you notice Ghost is staring at the floor, and something about him feels… off.
As you go to put the first aid kit away you nudge his foot with yours, “You feelin’ alright bud? You can stay the night if you need.”
“‘M fine” he mutters, still not making eye contact.
“Wow that was convincing.” You dead pan as you walk away from him to go put up your first aid kit.
When you return to his side you gently rest your hand on his shoulder and say, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but you can stay here as long as you need. I gave you all this address for emergencies after all.”
He eyes you, before reaching up to your hand on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze, “Thanks Stitch”.
“Anytime.”
5th
You are starting to believe you’ve done something to piss off the gods.
You have just gotten back from leave and already the rest of your task force is sick. It started with Soap, who had come back to base with it, except he insisted it was nothing and went about training like he normally does. Him refusing to rest like you told him to led to him getting Ghost sick, not a surprise with how much they… “hang out.”
Next was Gaz, who despite you telling him not to, was adamant about treating them. When he inevitably fell to the illness he went whining about it to Price, who despite his best efforts, still got it. You suspect if he hadn’t still been trying to get his leg back to what it was before he broke it he could’ve outran him.
And then there was you. The sole survivor.
For some reason all of them had decided to wallow in your room, something about Soap insisting it had “healing properties” because your a medic. You told him to get out. He didn’t listen.
Gaz had curled up in your bed, Price had taken the couch, Soap curled up in your arm chair, and Ghost took the rug.
You were going to do so much cleaning once you managed to get these fuckers out.
But for now, you had to be in medic mode. So you went in. Armed with a face mask, gloves, everything antiseptic you could get your hands on, you started your plan: get the sick bastards out of my room.
The first step was making them feel better, so you decided on a classic sick food; chicken noodle soup.
You pushed the door to your room open with your back, on account of you carrying a heavy tray with 4 bowls of soup.
“Hiya boys, how are you feeling?” You chirped, setting the tray down on your desk. “I brought dinner if your feeling up to it.”
Much to your amusement Soaps head immediately shot up at the promise of food. “What did ya bring?” He rasped, the poor thing had lost most of his voice when he got ill and he was only now starting to get it back.
“Chicken noodle soup, although I’m not sure the bastard who started this whole mess should get any.” You quipped, even though you were actively handing him a bowl.
“Thank ya kindly.” He mumbled as he took the bowl from you. As far as your boys went Soap was the closest to looking like his regular self. Yes he didn’t have much of a voice, and his energy was way down from normal, but he was the least pale, and obviously the one with the most appetite.
“Anybody else want any?” You asked, glancing about your room turned sick bay.
From the corner of your room you saw Price weakly raise his hand from the couch. “Geez dramatic much?” You snorted out a laugh while handing him his bowl.
“Don’t bully the ill Stitch.” Gaz huffs from your bed.
“Your in my room, I’ll bully as much as I please.” You huffed “Now do you want soup?”
You saw Gaz lift his head to look at the soup questioningly before shrugging and nodding yes.
Once you had one bowl of soup left you looked down at the dark puddle on your rug. “Ghost, dinner time.” You chirped.
“Leave me to my death.” He moaned back at you.
“Oh you’re hardly dying, here sit up and eat something you’ll feel better.” As you spoke you gently crouched down to him and started repeatedly poking him on the shoulder.
“What do you want you heathen” he muttered as he finally sat up, only to have a bowl of soup forced into his hands.
“Eat.” You said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“I don’t care.”
Reluctantly Ghost pulled up his mask to his nose and began to eat his soup, with everyone fed you looked around to see if anyone was done.
Like you expected, Soap was already done and Gaz was about 2/3 of the way through his. Time for step 2, probably the hardest part: Medicine.
You walked over to your desk and looked through the bag you’d brought in with the tray. You were muttering curses under your breath when you finally found it. A bottle of NyQuil. Not only will it help their colds, it’ll also knock them out so you won’t have to deal with them! Win win! Looking over at Soap you decided he would be your first target.
Loading up a spoon with the liquid you carefully step over to Soap, trying to not set off any of his alarm bells.
“Can I take your bowl?” You ask him, making sure to have a normal tone that doesn’t give away your true intentions.
“Sure, thank ya.” He rasped handing you his bowl. Before he could fully take his hand off the bowl you whisked the bowl away and shoved the spoonful of medicine into his hand.
He stared at the spoon like it was poison, “Stitch, what IS this?” He questioned.
“Medicine.” You quipped back. “It’ll make you feel better. Maybe if you take it you can insist on training again to go infect more people.”
Soap let out a raspy groan, but despite his previous complaint he swallowed the medicine, making a comical face after tasting it, and handed the spoon back to you.
Your next, “victims” as you choose to call them, didn’t put up much of a fight.
Gaz didn’t complain once he realized you weren’t leaving him alone until he took it, and Price took it without a word. Overall, a pretty positive experience. Your next challenger however would be much more difficult.
You eye up Ghost, and decide at this point attempting to be stealthy is pointless, he’s already seen you carry out your plan, and thus you approach him with your ammo loaded spoon fearlessly.
“No.” He groans, voice muffled from how he’s laying face first in your rug.
“Ghost, it’ll make you feel better.” You try, but the mountain man simply acts as if he didn’t hear you. You start repeatedly nudging him with your foot, over and over and over again until finally he picks his head up to look at you.
You can’t see much of him because of the mask, but from what you can see his eyes are much more puffy and red than normal, and anyone could notice the subtle rasp to his voice that’s not normally there.
“You need to take the medicine.” You spoke calmly, like you were talking to a cranky toddler. “It’ll make you feel better. Plus everyone else already took theirs.”
“Well they’re weak.” He groaned, and yet he still snatched the spoon from you, shoved the medicine in his mouth, and then threw it back at you.
“Dramatic much.” You whispered to yourself, getting up to put everything away.
If there’s one thing you got from this experience it’s this:
You work with literal children.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1st
You felt like shit.
Not that you plan on letting that fact be known.
You’ve been attempting to put on some blush and concealer for the last 30 minutes in an attempt to make yourself look more alive. Your only responsibility today is a meeting to discuss your next mission so while it’s technically against dress code you don’t think anyone will notice, or if they do notice you doubt they will care.
Your body however seems to be stubbornly rebelling against your master plan to seem healthy. Your attempts to stand at your desk and put on makeup keep being thwarted as your head pounds any time you stand up and your vision blurs.
Despite your bodies valiant attempts to incapacitate you, you did manage to get your makeup on, put your clothes on, and get out the door.
Once you hobbled your way into the meeting room you saw that everyone was already there, as you took much longer than expected getting ready, which led to you being late.
“Damn Stitch you look… rough.” Gaz commented with a wince.
“Shut it.” You muttered, your voice already half gone.
When you woke up this morning you knew you were in for a hell of a week. You throat hurt like hell, and your voice was nearly gone. You kept coughing and sneezing and your head hurt horribly. All the same symptoms of what your boys had.
Despite your best efforts to get them out they had ended up staying for nearly a week. Soap left after about 2 days of rest, as he had it before the chaos started, but even with their ring leader gone the rest stayed put, with little signs of recovery. Due to this, your constant cleaning in between bouts of caring for them was futile, and 2 days after they recovered, it seems the inevitable happened. You caught it.
You sat with a thud in your normal seat next to Gaz, nodding at Price. “Sorry I’m late sir.” You grunted, barely able to get the words out.
“Are you feelin’ alright?” He asked, eyes narrowed at you suspiciously.
“Never better.” You lied.
Price was still eyeing you with suspicion, but he turned to begin the meeting anyway.
Nothing much of note happened during the meeting, except the fact that Gaz kept giving you looks of increasing concern, and every time you let out a muffled cough Ghost gave you a death stare. Soap looked at you more than Price for the whole meeting, despite him getting told off numerous times.
At the end of the meeting you moved to get up to retreat to your room, but as soon as you rose your head started spinning aggressively, the world blurred into one large mass of color, and then black.
~
You woke up with a start. Sitting up and immediately backing into the nearest corner you assessed your surroundings.
You were in your room, and the lack of light coming through the window let you know it was night. You must have slept a while as it was still morning when your meeting ended. Upon feeling a weight tighten on your waist you looked down and felt your cheeks grow warm.
Gaz was curled up right next to you, his arm wrapped around your waist. He was sleeping peacefully next to you, his body curled slightly. You thought it safe to assume he was curled around you until you shot up.
Looking around the room you saw the rest of your boys spread around. Ghost was lying peacefully on your rug (honestly you found his obsession with it a little concerning), with Soap half on top of him. Price was laying on your couch with his god-awful hat on his face, presumably to block out the nonexistent light.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a bout of violent coughing. Your lungs felt like stress balls as they were squeezed under the muscles of your chest, and in one violent motion you swung yourself out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom.
As you emptied your stomach contents into the toilet bowl you felt someone wipe away the sweat on your forehead and crouch down next to you.
“That’s it, get it all out.” You heard Soap mumble next to you.
As your stomach finished emptying itself and you spat into the toilet into an attempt to get the taste out of your mouth Soap gently leaned over to wipe your mouth for you.
You sat back on your haunches with your eyes closed, breathing heavily. You creaked your eyes when you heard multiple pairs of footsteps quickly approaching the door.
Ghost stood directly behind Soap, looking at you with poorly masked concern. Next to him, with a death grip on his elbow, was Gaz, who was not even trying to mask his concern at your state. Behind both of them peered Price, and while he displayed a glare on his face, you knew him well enough to know that was his way of showing concern.
“Respectfully Stitch, what the fuck?” Soap gently said next to you.
Instead of actually responding like all of your years of training and experience are screaming at you to do, your emotions take over and you start violently sobbing.
You feel miserable. You head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton, your throat is on fire, all your limbs feel weighed down with lead, you can’t even stay awake long enough to walk to your own room and now your emotional state is such shit your violently crying in front of all of your boys.
The first one to react is Soap, who instantly tightly pulls you into a hug. The next is Gaz, who rushed over to tackle you- gently! In a hug. Price awkwardly walked over to sling an arm around you as well, and Soap turned around to grab Ghost by his ankle and drag him in.
“I-I’m sorry.” You gasped out between sobs.
In response to your statement Soap and Gaz’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
Finally, Price spoke. “Alright crowding em’ isn’t gonna help anything. Soap make sure they brush their teeth then get them the fuck to bed. Ghost, grab the medicine they gave us and anything else that might help. Gaz make sure they have water and a Gatorade on their nightstand. I’m gonna run to medical and get them some anti-nausea medication.”
Hearing that your boys all scurried off to follow orders.
Soap carefully raised you up, and made sure you had steadied yourself against the counter before releasing you. He grabbed your toothbrush for you and put a generous amount of toothpaste on it. After he handed it to you and made sure you were good he started busying himself with anything he thought needed a bit of tidying around your bathroom. Which was apparently a lot.
As he worked he spoke lowly, “Gave us all quite a fright there. Thought you were hurt for a moment and rushed ya to the med bay. They told us you were just ill and had us bring ya to your room.”
You spat out your toothpaste and muttered between sniffles, “sorry.”
As you cleaned off your toothbrush and your mouth Soap approached you and pulled you in tight. “I know we annoy the hell out of you with our recklessness, but I don’t know what I would do without ya. You’re the glue that holds us all together, without ya’ we all would be dead 10 times over.”
As Soaps little speech ended someone cleared their throat behind you, prompting you to turn around.
There stood Gaz, leaning against the doorframe. “He’s right y’know.” He said softly, slowly approaching you. “We would fall apart without you. And if keeping you in good shape means tending to you while your vulnerable like you do for us so well, then we will do it happily.”
“Gaz, you all gonna make me cry again.” You sniffled, rubbing harshly at your eyes.
His eyes grew wide at that and quickly pulled you into another hug, “Please no.”
“Alright, alright. We need to get ‘em to bed. Let em’ rest and what not.” Soap said gently pulling you from Gaz.
“Right right.” And with that Gaz gently took your hand leading you towards your bed. Soap followed closely behind, keeping a hand on your shoulder the whole time, like he was scared you would fall over again (not that you can blame him).
As they settled you in Price came in through the door, carrying a bucket and a small pill in his other hand.
“Alright, this bucket is incase you get sick again.” He said, setting it down next to your nightstand. “And this pill is for your nausea.”
He handed you the pill and the glass of water Gaz had gotten for you earlier. As you took the pill Ghost finally walked over with the medicine he has taken way to long to find.
“Alright here ya go.” Ghost said, attempting to hand you the spoon once you took the pill.
You however, were apparently not sick enough to not cause problems on purpose as you leaned comically far away from the spoon.
When Ghost gave you a pointed look you simply shrugged and said “Revenge bitch.” Before grabbing the spoon and taking the medicine.
“Alright I think that’s everything.” Price started, “We’ll leave you alone now and let you rest. Come on boys.”
As they moved to leave something came over you, making you call out to them, “Wait, uh please wait. Can… can you all stay? Please?” As you spoke you curled up further into your blankets, attempting to hide yourself in them.
Soap was the first to react to your question. “Aww sure Stichey, of course we’ll stay!” He smirked, practically prancing over to you to playfully ruffle your hair.
You scoffed, already regretting your decision, and rolled over to face the wall muttering, “forget it.”
“No no no.” Gaz said, quickly walking over to you, making sure to give Soap a good smack on the back of his head on the way. “If you want us to stay we can stay. It’s the least we can do. Right?” At that last word he shot a pointed glare towards the other members of the 141st, who all made varying gestures of agreement.
With that figured out your boys all settled in. Gaz practically latched onto you, pulling you to his chest and tucking your head under his chin. Soap, feeling extremely left out, decided to snuggled into your back, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling at the back of your neck. Soap waved Ghost over and with a sigh he slid his legs under everyone else’s and leaned half against Soap, half against the wall.
“Well looks like I can’t fit- what a shame,” Price began, only to have the back of his shirt grabbed by Gaz who proceeded to practically throw him over everyone onto Ghost, who promptly threw him off. He eventually settled in next to Ghost, half leaning on him, his legs fully intertwined with everyone else’s.
Once everyone was settled you felt incredibly comfortable. Your boys were all around you, and while yes, you still felt like shit, their heat and comfort more than made up for it.
The most important thing you got from this experience?
Your boys may be annoying sometimes, but there is nothing they wouldn’t do for you.
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astonmartinii · 7 months
Text
bite the hand | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem musician!reader [face claim: clairo + clairo, boygenius and taylor swift music]
having fans are great, but sometimes it goes to far and you have to bite the hands that feed you
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 913,551 others
tagged: beabadoobee
yourusername: howdy ladies, gentlemen and all that's in between, it's single release day. i had so much fun on this track with bea and getting to pour all of my love for maxy onto such a cute melody... hope you all enjoy my loves x
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user1: YES THANK YOU MOM THIS IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED TODAY
landonorris: how many letters in devoured?
yourusername: ATE 💅
landonorris: ate and left NO crumbs
maxverstappen1: why oh why did i ever introduce you two
yourusername: because you love us both?
maxverstappen1: i sure love you, jury is out on lando
landonorris: boooooooooo
user2: ugh if y/n had to date an f1 driver why couldn't she go for one of the hot ones like lando or charles?
user3: for real like bro he just drags her down
user4: you can't be serious? he's a professional athlete at the top of his sport and by what they show us a massive softy who loves y/n? why would we want anything else for her?
liked by yourusername
user5: y/n will NOT stand for any max bashing idk why you guys try it every time
maxverstappen1: so unbelievably talented and the artist of her generation
yourusername: maybe it's because i have a top notch muse ?
maxverstappen1: NO NO IT'S ALL YOU YOU ARE THE ARTIST I AM JUST LUCKY TO BE IN YOUR VICINITY
yourusername: i am the lucky one baby
danielricciardo: leave your cute shit offline i already have to hear it all of the time let me be on instagram
yourusername: nope love my boyfriend too much
maxverstappen1: nope love my girlfriend too much
user6: they're so insufferable i love them
user7: this song bangs so much more when you pretend it's not about ... him
user8: bro is acting like max verstappen ran over his puppy
user7: sorry i don't want a GREAT artist and BEAUTIFUL woman being dragged down by THAT
user9: you are insane, you do not know y/n, you enjoy her music, that doesn't give you the right to have power over things in her personal life
user10: you people are why this fanbase has a bad name and before long y/n will get fed up too
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 829,043 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: the off weekend spent right
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user13: i need a man so obsessed with me that all he does is post my face
user14: crazy that all this guy does is wax lyrical about how much he loves her and she's like never at his races ... interesting
user15: and her weirdly entitled fanbase say he doesn't deserve her when she clearly doesn't support him as much as he supports her
yourusername: i love you and our soft little weekends, i wanna do it all the time :(
maxverstappen1: gosh our day jobs are really quite unconventional i guess we should just retire to a remote island to live on a small farm?
yourusername: you said it not me i just wanna be anywhere with you
maxverstappen1: i love you <3
user16: RETIRE TO A REMOTE ISLAND? SOMEONE TELL THIS RAT THAT IF HE IS THE REASON WE DON'T GET MUSIC WE WILL RIDE AT DAWN
user17: babe have you ever thought that maybe the reason he said that he wants to retire away from everyone because you people stick your noses in all the time
danielricciardo: @yourusername a soft weekend you say? how many hours did max spend on the sim?
yourusername: a solid ten but he even let me have a go
danielricciardo: oh wow that man really is in love
maxverstappen1: i think she'd rival a couple of you with some practice, i'm working on getting her to join redline
user18: ugh this is so annoying... preaching like you like spending time with your girlfriend and then spend it all playing a video game and letting her have one go?
user19: the sim is something f1 drivers use to train? if anything max probably shouldn't have let y/n have a go she could've accidentally changed the set up or other things
user20: i'm seeing charles and lewis training this off weekend and he just lies in bed with this girl? he really needs to ditch her to stay at the top
user21: literally two comments up is them talking about him training on the sim the jealousy is insane from both fans at this point
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maxverstappen1
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 893,442 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: happy to take home another win in mexico, i love this track and am forever thankful to this team and my loved ones.
view all comments
user25: holy shit idk what f1 can do but the paddock looked insane today there's no way that is safe for the drivers and personnel.
user26: there's so many videos of people rushing max and although some of them look like max fans who are just excited but there were a lot of very rude rival fans trying to get too close for comfort
yourusername: forever proud of you !! you're like jimmy and sassy with zoomies on crack <3
maxverstappen1: that is the highest of the high compliment thank you my love
yourusername: champagne is on me girlypops no expense spared for the love of my life
redbullracing: do we all qualify as girlypops ???
yourusername: of course !! don't think i didn't notice the supply of vegan pizza rolls you truly are the lactose intolerant allies of the grid
user27: can she stop spending all her hard earned money on this scrub that just uses her
user28: bro makes millions in a year he doesn't NEED her but that doesn't mean he can't want her? you guys are crazy
user29: some of these fans need to do some serious evaluation, drivers are not zoo animals, they are people and deserve respect and that includes respect to their personal space.
user30: for real like why was brad basically having to act as a body guard for max and y/n
user31: this was such a dangerous event for max and y/n. they're both very famous individuals and should be able to move around the paddock without being in danger.
user32: max joked about getting a body guard for this weekend but i think he should seriously consider it especially is y/n is coming to more races while she's not touring
danielricciardo: it has been brought to my attention that y/n has stated that she will spare no expense, i am making a formal enquiry into whether this will cover my bar tab?
yourusername: i will within reason but only because your bffs with maxy and will drink the fruity lil cocktails with me
danielricciardo: REAL men drink cocktails
maxverstappen1: do NOT disrespect the humble gin and tonic on my post
user33: i'm glad they're in high spirits after the shenanigans in the paddock today and the booing towards max :(
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liked by taylorswift, maxverstappen1 and 1,442,776 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: there is no full way to articulate my feelings right now. my fans have to respect my personal relationships and my boundaries. i appreciate your support but you have to understand that i am not your personal friend and you do not have the right to my personal life. i also understand that in sport, there are a lot of heightened emotions, but drivers do not owe you their safety. this is something i have felt for a long time since max and i became a public couple and the onslaught of hate came for him. you may say that it comes from a good place, or for my best interests, but the manner in which some 'fans' have expressed their 'worries' is unacceptable. i do not want to bite the hand that feeds me, but there's only so many slaps me and my loved ones can take from the hand.
bite the hand is out on all streaming platforms. please listen closely a re-evaluate your relationships with your favourite artists, thank you.
comments are not available on this post.
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,220,664 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i love you and i will never let other people tell me when i'm not enough get in my head again. we both appreciate our support and acknowledge that we would be nowhere without it. but our relationships are ours, please respect this.
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,344,229 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: okay sad songs are important but it's now time for me to sing my wee little heart out about how much i love you and how i know we were always made for each other.
i love you maxy, invisible string is all about my muse. out now.
view all comments
user41: IT BANGS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
user42: ffs i guess we're stuck with this man for life now ...
user43: LISTEN TO BITE THE HAND AND BANG YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL AND HEAR THE PINBALLS OF YOUR BRAIN GOING CRAZU
user44: speak your truth sis
maxverstappen1: ISN'T IT JUST SO PRETTY TO THINK THAT ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME
maxverstappen1: so true, you make me believe in soulmates YOU ARE MY SOULMATE I LOVE YOU
yourusername: i love you to the moon and to saturn for real
yourusername: and that thread of gold is made from all of your trophies LET'S GO RAHHHHHHHH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
maxverstappen1: the gold of that grammy @thegrammys yall heard bags?
user45: the way they're each others wags and completely embrace it
user46: i love that they're still their goofy asses they don't give a shit abou t yall
user47: y/n dropped a heart wrenching track and immediately went ... but hey i'm SUPER happy and that's all you're going to hear
landonorris: so like can y/n remix the dutch anthem so we can actually bop every weekend
yourusername: i kinda wanna marry the king of the netherlands so maybe not
landonorris: you broke up ?????
yourusername: no you dumbass max is the king of the netherlands
maxverstappen1: not factually but i do have a medal from the royal family so same thing
landonorris: why do you guys have to clown on me every time
yourusername: you're like our baby brother it's our duty
maxverstappen1: sorry not sorry
user48: you could never make me hate them they're made for each other
user49: finally bite the hand shamed the crazy bitches into finally shutting the fuck up
note: i love bite the hand i actually fear it might be my fave boygenius song and i recommend it to everyone. i actually did my university dissertation on parasocial relationships with athletes so like i feel like a good couple of sports fans could do with a listen to bite the hand. hope yall enjoyed and had a good weekend !! (chelsea gave me a heart attack but what's new, even though i was too sick to go to the game:()
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janitorhutcherson · 6 months
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i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)
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i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.
• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.
• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.
• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.
• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.
• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.
• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.
• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.
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pbueckerslover · 19 days
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i need you - p.b. ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀི
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pairing(s): paige bueckers x female!reader
warnings: language, smut, oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving)
summary: you’re needy for paige and she gives you exactly what you’re asking for.
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“i love you so much.” paige told me as she continued littering kisses down my neck. she sucked on my neck harder once she reached my sweet spot and left multiple purple colored bruises all over. “love you more, baby.” i say, almost out of breath watching her move down to my stomach.
she placed a couple kisses to my lower stomach but then started moving back up towards me. our lips met again, but this time the kiss was more intense. she was being so needy. i could feel my pussy getting wetter as she kissed me harder. when she pulled away again, she looked me in the eyes and i whisper, “want you so bad, paige.” the second she heard those words she was removing my shirt along with her own. “so pretty.” she said as she admired what was in front of her.
she removed my bra with one hand and started spreading kisses to my tits. i moaned at the contact of her tongue swirling around my nipples. she sucked harder and started leaving more hickeys. “all mine.” she whispered as she looked at what she had done in front of her.
she started to move her hands down to my thighs and rubbed her hands up and down. “seriously baby, i fucking need you right now.” i said as she kept teasing me. when she heard me say this it was like some sort of spark ignited in her. she was ripping off my pants along with my underwear before i could even process what was happening.
when her mouth went in between my legs i let out an embarrassingly loud moan. her tongue moved onto my clit and she started sucking. “how bad do you need me huh? 3 fingers?” she said as she looked up at me and moving faster. “yes please P, need all 3.”
soon enough she was pushing her fingers into me. she started with just one, but once i whined more she added all three. “f-fuck! oh my god!” i yell out as she started fucking me faster with her fingers. “doing so good for me, babe.” she said, looking up at me again.
“i’m so close paige!” i moan as i start to feel myself reaching my climax. she starts going even faster, moving her tongue from my clit and sticking it in my hole. “such a good girl. want you to come all over my face.” she says as i start to breath even harder.
seconds later i’m coming all over her tongue and she licks up every last drop. once she’s done she lays down next to me on the bed. “you’re just so perfect.” she says as she pushes a piece of hair back that was in my face. she place a kiss to my forehead and then to my cheek.
i look deeply into her eyes and give her a gentle kiss on the lips. she smiles at my actions. “i love you, P.” i whisper into her ear as i place my head into the crook of her neck. she puts her head on top of mine and wraps her arms around me. “i love you more my sweet girl.” she whispers back.
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⇾ be sure to checkout my masterlist if you enjoyed!
⇾ i fucking need her. i hope y’all enjoyed i’m kinda proud of this hehe. plss send me ideas for kate/emily if you have any i really want to start writing for them!!
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suashii · 15 days
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— 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓇 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2.3k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ a lil bit of flirty teasing ノ pet names ( darlin' ) ノ interactions with kids ノ reader is navigating Big and Confusing feelings :3
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
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“one more stop and we should be good to go,” boothill informs you, closing the door behind him after joining you in the front of the truck. his presence makes the vehicle feel twice as hot and you find yourself scooting closer to the window to widen the gap between the two of you. the task proves to be a bit difficult in the two-seat cab.
maybe you can chalk it up to the fact that you’ve gotten used to the convenience of grocery delivery services, but you’re really starting to feel like boothill is going out of his way to make this the longest, most convoluted shopping trip simply because you’re here with him. if you knew you’d be spending such a large chunk of your day with the farmhand, you wouldn’t have so easily agreed to accompany him on the errands.
it was another request, or suggestion, rather, from your grandpa. you’ve been cooped up in the house since you arrived for your getaway and the man thought it might be a good idea for you to go into town, reacquaint yourself with the locals. you couldn’t argue—your trip is currently indefinite and you’re sure you’ll end up driving yourself crazy if you refuse to go out and are only left with the company of boothill.
he may still be in your presence now, but having others around to buffer your interactions has made all the difference. the farmhand is a lot more tolerable when it’s not just the two of you—less teasing, easier to talk to. you’d even go as far as calling him… charming. though, you’ll take that with you to the grave.
and, being trapped in a car with him is a different story. you silently hope that your next destination is in the same direction as home because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take being confined in such a cramped space with him. other than his unrelenting pestering, you’re angry at yourself for stealing glances at him—the way he steers with one hand and lets the other hang out the window and how the toothpick he’s chewing looks all too natural between his lips.
you focus your eyes ahead, scolding yourself for so shamelessly enjoying the sight of him. you should be glad he doesn’t catch you looking; you’d never hear the end of it. without turning to face him, you ask, “what’s the last stop?”
“produce stand,” he speaks around the wooden stick in his mouth, slowing to a stop at the red.
you frown, confused. “we were just at the market, why didn’t we just pick some up there?”
“and betray miss alma?” the name rings a bell, you recognize it from when you would spend summers with your grandpa. he must still do business with her if boothill is familiar, and loyal, at that. “absolutely not. better quality here, anyway.”
you don’t argue because you have a feeling that he’s right. and you wouldn’t mind catching up with alma. she was always so nice when you were a kid, excitedly asking you about your time here and offering you free carrots to feed the horses back home. you’re surprised to hear she’s still running the stall after all these years.
it only takes a few more minutes to make it to the roadside stand. there are a couple of cars already parked when boothill pulls off and you can see the owners of them picking out their desired fruits and vegetables. you don’t waste any time getting out of the truck when boothill turns it off, the gravel of the makeshift parking lot crunching beneath your boots as you make your way over to the little table that houses the register.
alma is seated behind it, head lifting up from the book in her hand at the sound of car doors closing. she readies to greet another customer but her eyes light up in pleasant delight when they land on you. “look who it is!”
her voice, though slightly changed by age, is familiar and brings an immediate smile to your face. you all but run to meet her at the table she comes to stand behind. the woman holds her arms out for a hug and you reach over the table to wrap your arms around her. it’s comforting in the same way hugging your grandpa is, like nothing can go wrong while you’re safe in their hold.
“your grandpa told me you were in town,” she tells you, pulling away and slowly taking a seat in her chair. “i was wondering if you’d stop by.”
you don’t want to tell her that you’re mostly here because of boothill. “how have you been, miss alma?”
“good, good.” she beams and gestures toward the multiple cartons and crates of colorful produce. “we’re still going strong.”
you smile at that. you don’t find many places like this in the city and the small businesses that you do come upon back home don’t foster this type of community. it’s nice to see that her livelihood is still thriving. alma gazes at her work proudly before her eyes zone in on something—or someone—else. “you here with boothill?”
“oh, yeah. he works at the farm,” you tell her, though, you’re sure she already knew as much. she’s seen much more of him in the past few years than she has of you. not that you didn’t believe him, but he really is a regular.
“nice young man, isn’t he?” alma asks, looking back at you. you’re not sure if you’d go that far but you nod in agreement regardless. he’s likely the perfect gentleman to the older ladies within town. she continues, “hardworking and handsome, too.”
“yeah,” you mindlessly admit. the hardworking part is undeniable, you’ve seen that much yourself. he’s always up on time and takes his responsibilities seriously, never half-asses his tasks and is consistently willing to take on more work if it’s necessary. you only concede on the handsome bit because boothill isn’t around to hear you say so. you hope alma isn’t a gossip.
“are you seeing him, dear?” she inquires.
“seeing him? like dating?” you ask for clarification. alma only raises her eyebrows. she does mean it like that. the question makes the tips of your ears grow hot, makes your heart feel like it’s beating against your ribcage infinitely faster. you quickly wave your hands in dismissal, smiling nervously at the woman’s assumption. “oh, no. no, no.”
alma laughs at your denial but something hidden in the sound makes it seem as though she can see right through you. she doesn’t push the matter and while you’re grateful to leave the discussion at that, you can’t help but wonder what gave her that impression, if it’s simply an old lady’s wishful thinking or if you aren’t as good at suppressing those confusing feelings as you thought you were.
“boothill!” the call of his name gives you a start. you almost think alma is calling him over but when you reassess the voice—how little and high-pitched it is—you calm down. your eyes search the small crowd for the man and you find him quickly, though he isn’t alone. there’s a little girl at his feet, one who’s hugging his legs tightly and looking up at him with stars in her eyes. 
you don’t have time to wonder about who she is before alma explains. “that’s my granddaughter. sweet little thing. you should go meet her, she’ll love you.”
“sure.” you offer the woman a short wave before making your way over to boothill and the girl. you can pick up on tidbits of their conversation as you approach—boothill asking how much she’s missed him and the girl telling him “this much!” while opening her arms as wide as she can. he laughs and takes the opportunity to bend down and pick her up, situating her on his hip. he even takes the hat off his head to place it on hers. it’s big on her, covers her eyes and requires her to push it back so she can see.
the whole exchange is cute, not something you’d expect from boothill. there’s a lot that you don’t know about him, you think as you watch.
the girl must feel you looking because her head turns in your direction which causes boothill’s to follow. you smile at her and wave and when you’re finally close enough, you greet her. “hi there.”
“hello.” she isn’t as excited as she was when she realized boothill was here but she’s still kind, returning your wave with one of her own. your conversation ends before it truly begins as she turns back to boothill. there’s curiosity swimming in her eyes and she doesn’t attempt to lower her voice when she asks him, “is she your girlfriend?”
your mouth falls open in surprise at the girl’s bold question. boothill laughs heartily, whether at your reaction or the question itself, you’re not sure. you don’t know if you trust him enough to answer honestly but before you can tell her no, the man is already speaking. “nah.”
relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. he meets your eye with his next words. “she’s real pretty though, ain’t she?”
he’s doing it again, putting you in a tough spot, one that urges you to run away rather than face the situation head-on. but this time, he knows that you know running away here would only cause a scene. you aren’t jumping at the chance to embarrass yourself in public so, even though you’re tempted to put as much space between you and boothill as possible, you plant your feet to the ground and stay put.
the girl in his arms looks at you again before eagerly nodding. “very pretty!”
“thank you, sweetheart,” you tell her with a soft smile. you try to keep it in place when you turn to address boothill. “are we ready to go?”
“almost,” he answers, crouching down to return the girl to the ground. the girl doesn’t look thrilled at their time being cut short but boothill, still at her level, playfully pinches her nose in hopes of cheering her up. “look, i gotta finish shopping but we can talk some more another day. maybe ask your mom if you can come ride the horses soon.”
“okay!” she places the hat back on his head, gives him a goodbye hug, and waves once more at you before skipping over to her grandma—presumably to share her enthusiasm at the prospect of visiting the farm.
she reminds you of yourself around that age.
“so,” boothill starts, rising to his full height with a half-full wicker basket in hand, “you only capable of accepting compliments when they’re not from me?”
there’s a grin stretched across his lips like he’s waiting for a thank you of his own. perhaps it’s a little rude, a bit pretentious even, but you can’t find it in you to utter the two simple words. maybe it’s strange and maybe it only makes sense to you, but not acknowledging the words is almost as if they never traveled through the air in the first place. pretending like the words don’t exist is easier on you—your turbulent mind and your unsteady heart.
you change the subject. “what else do we need?”
“you are ice cold, darlin’.” despite the statement, boothill doesn’t seem to be bothered by your indifference. he wouldn’t take it to heart if you were truly uninterested but the man is more perceptive than you give him credit for. he doesn’t miss how you can never seem to meet his eye following his heartfelt words, how you chew on your lip while you formulate an unrelated reply, and he certainly hasn’t forgotten about that stunt you pulled in the barn.
there’s something going on in that pretty head of yours and he’s determined to find out just what it is.
you pick out a few peaches and plums for yourself and a bunch of carrots for the horses while boothill grabs the rest of the household necessities. the basket is full by the time the two of you are finished. you plan on paying for your share but boothill insists that you wait in the truck, so, after bidding goodbye to alma and her granddaughter, you make the short walk back to the car. 
a couple of minutes pass before you hear the man putting the produce away with the rest of the items in the bed of the truck. a second later his door opens and he joins you, though, he isn’t empty-handed. there’s a bouquet of flowers in his hand that he holds out to you. “for you.”
you eye them cautiously, not daring to reach out and accept them.
“don’t worry, they’re from miss alma,” he tells you, lightly shaking the colored cosmos in front of you in a gesture for you to take them. “put ‘em in your room or something, they’ll look nice.”
with his urging, you take the bouquet. pinks and purples with pops of white make up the arrangement and, much to your chagrin, boothill is right—you can think of the perfect spot in your window for the blossoms.
as he starts the car and begins to back out into the road, boothill steals a quick look at you. there’s a smile pulling at your lips, soft and natural. it’s a rare sight, but one he could get used to.
he supposes that if he wants to see it for a while longer, he shouldn’t tell you that they aren’t actually from miss alma, rather, a mere suggestion from the nice lady to get him in your good graces.
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thanks for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
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writtenwhalien · 12 days
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jump then fall (into you) | part 3
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banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖
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pairing ↠ jungkook x reader
genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut
word count ↠ 52k (pt 3. 14k)
18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.
summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
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note. asdkjlfdsgh it's the final part, i hope you're enjoying! 🥰 don't forget to interact please xo
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part 3 (final)
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“Black or red?” Sophia held the two dresses against herself in turn, eyes scrunched as she considered each carefully. 
“I vote red.”
“No, black.”
Elisa and Shay, two of Sophia’s closest friends looked at each other in disapproval after both giving their choice. 
“Wait, what are you wearing again, Y/N?” No answer prompts her to turn around. “Y/N?”
“Huh?” You look up, slightly confused. “Sorry, dress, yes, I like both but I think the black will go with the Harry Winston your dad just got you.” The answer rolls off your tongue and you’re grateful that you already had this conversation with Thalia a few weeks back before you’d left for the cruise. 
She narrows her eyes at you and you can’t blame her. You’ve been zoning out on her all day.
“Sorry,” you wince, giving her a smile. 
“Something on your mind?” Sophia asks, having witnessed this earlier too. 
“Not really,” you answer. “Just tired.” It’s not true but you don’t particularly fancy sharing your current dilemmas with the girls despite how great they are at advice. Besides, it’s less than two days till the wedding and you’re not trying to make your problems everyone else’s problems. 
Sophia just gives you that look before carrying on as though nothing happened. “What dress are you wearing again? Wasn’t it the same red as this?”
You nod. Your dress for Thalia’s dinner tonight is a simple wine red dress with a tie up back. 
“Alright, I’m going for the black one then.” Sophia throws the red one on the bed and hangs the black one up on her mirror. 
“Now heels,” she says excitedly. The girls follow her into her closet and you get up too but not to follow. 
“I’m gonna go get some water,” you tell them, sticking your head into the door of the closet. 
“Can you get me some too?” Sophia asks, eyes scaling the shelves for the perfect heels. 
“Sure.” 
You walk away from the girls and towards the closest back staircase which would take you directly to the kitchen. It’s on the opposite side of the house, past many of the bedrooms on the third floor, one of which belongs to Alias. A part of you hopes to hear voices in the room, one voice in particular, but you’re only met with silence as you pass. 
Deflating a little, you go downstairs to the kitchen. As you approach, you hear voices, Thalia and Alex. They’re standing by the fridge, talking softly to each other as Thalia takes a few drinks from the shelves and Alex places them on a tray behind them on the island. 
Alex looks up and smiles when he sees you. “Hey, Y/N.” 
Thalia turns around, placing the last of the bottles on the tray. “Finally managed to escape Sophia?” 
You laugh, approaching the fridge. “Not yet. I’m just here for some water.” 
“She’s still choosing her outfits?” Alex asks, brows raised.
“Yep.”
“But she took forever when she was buying them, why is she still choosing?”
Thalia laughs. “She’s your sister, surely you know better than that by now. She’s got at least three new buys for one event, then she’s got to choose between them and don’t forget about the jewellery, shoes and hair choices that go with them.”
Alex puts his arm around Thalia’s waist. “I think you’re just as bad though.”
“Well why not?” Thalia answers smugly. “It’s just self love.”
“And that’s why I love you.”
You don’t cringe as they smile at each other all smitten, but surprisingly feel a small pang of pain in your chest. Looking away, you take three bottles of water from the fridge. 
“Are you going back up there?” Alex asks. 
You nod. “She’s almost done.”
Just as Alex nods, another voice enters the conversation.
“Need any help guys?” Jungkook pauses in the doorway the moment he sees you, meanwhile Alex and Thalia exchange sly glances. 
“Actually, yes.” Thalia puts down the drinks she’s holding. “Bring the drinks please,” she says, pulling Alex by the hand. “As bride and groom we don’t want to risk any injuries from all the heavy lifting,” she adds, with an air of humour and absurdity which her fiance shares and they don’t wait another second before disappearing from the kitchen. Just like that, you’re left alone with Jungkook.
He looks at you from across the island. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you smile, feeling your lips purse awkwardly.
For a moment, neither of you move and the air is ripe with hesitation. A hundred thoughts cross your mind but not one leaves your mouth. If Jungkook’s mirrored expression is anything to go off of, he’s feeling the same.
Eventually, it’s Sophia’s voice coming from somewhere in the house that snaps you out of it. “Y/N, we’re doing hair now!” she calls, followed by a faint giggle from the girls.
“I’ll just…” you dumbly don’t finish your sentence, instead opting to just point towards the staircase as you turn around and head back towards them.
“Your water.”
Turning around, you see Jungkook is pointing at the three bottles Thalia was taking out for you, left on the corner of the island.
“Oh, right.” You feel your cheeks warming up as you take the bottles, that was silly of you.
Jungkook steps around the island. “Need a hand? I can take them for you.”
“No, I’m good,” you answer, noticing the way he stops immediately in his tracks. 
When you look at him, his lips are pursed and he just nods, looking down. You realise he was probably just looking for an excuse to talk and you just shot it down. 
Stupidly, you hesitate, and just when Jungkook looks up at you, one of the chefs walks in, greeting you both as she places down a big basket of freshly picked tomatoes right on the island.
Without another word, Jungkook starts placing the drinks on the tray and you turn and retreat back upstairs.
That was so stupid, you think, trudging your way up. Since when has it ever been this awkward between you both? Sure, the last time you spoke wasn’t a good conversation but this is the first time you guys haven’t been able to get past it and it’s becoming almost agonising.
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“Worst headache ever.” Alias just manages to raise his head from the table to have a sip of his coffee. 
“Take some anadin,” you say, just about managing to sip on your own iced coffee. 
“Here.” Elisa puts a blister pack in front of him and Alias groans as he swallows two together. 
The whole room around you is a similar scene. Kelce and a few of the other guys are knocked out on the lounge, while you, Alias, Thalia and a few of the other guys are holding strong and knocking back some coffee to help with the hangover. Last night got a little crazy for both parties involved. As expected, Sophia called in the strippers and when the last stripper finally lost his clothes, it was straight tequila shots for the rest of the evening and even Thalia got wasted. 
“This is exactly why I don’t drink,” she moans, resting her head on your shoulder.
You laugh, remembering just how many shots she took last night. It’s true that she barely drinks as much as she did, but when Thalia gets drunk, she gets drunk. 
“A hen night only happens once.” You remind her of her words and she groans in regret. 
“Maybe we should all go dry for a month,” Alias says. 
“Oh come on,” Dillon says, taking the Anadin and nudging Alias. “Give it a few hours and you’ll be ready for another round tonight.” 
“No way.”
“Yes way.”
“Whatever.”
Thalia laughs from beside you. It’s true, he’ll definitely be knocking back the rounds again tonight. After years of friendship, you know that all it’ll take is a coffee, a balanced meal, a cold shower and two to three hours for the anadin to kick in and Alias will be right as rain for tonight. The same goes for yourself and ideally you’d like to be your best tonight. 
This evening is the rehearsal dinner before the big day tomorrow. The house is full of excitement and jittering nerves from some but for the most part it’s just the excitement. 
“My sunshines,” comes Alex’s voice from around the corner before he appears. Honestly, all the excitement could be coming solely from him, you haven’t seen him so happy and carefree like you’re experiencing now. 
A wide smile plastered across his face, his eyes meet his finances as soon as he comes into view. They share a lingering glance, one full of adoration and content. Since arriving at the house, it was the job of the bride and groom parties to try to keep the bride and groom apart as is the Cirillo family tradition, but it hasn’t been going so great. For starters, the bride and groom parties should’ve been separate since arriving at the house and although none of you have been hanging out together much, you probably shouldn’t all be mingling together right now. No one’s really keeping check though, and Alex and Thalia seem to be doing well to keep to themselves. 
“You’re all finally awake,” Alex continues just as Jungkook joins him from around the corner. 
He catches your gaze just as Alias replies. 
“You actually drank the most last night, why are you so cheerful?” Alias asks in disbelief. 
“Maybe because he’s getting married tomorrow,” Elisa laughs. 
“Oh, yeah.”
“And I know how to hold my liquor, big brother.”
“And who taught you, little brother?” Alias sasses back. 
You’re not paying much attention, still looking at Jungkook. 
He smiles at you, a timid smile and he looks away before you can even smile back. 
Forcing yourself to look away, you rejoin the conversation that follows but Jungkook takes a seat on the futon on the far end of the room where your back is turned to him.
The next half hour passes in conversation about the plans for tonight; what everyone’s wearing and the weather for tomorrow. With it being summer, the sun is really sun-ing and it’s been perfect. A bit unbearable at times but it’s nothing a portable fan and some shade couldn’t help. 
Soon, the clock turns closer to 2pm and you know you ought to start getting ready, as does everyone else since dinner is at 7 sharp tonight. The room starts to empty and you decide to head up too. This way, you can squeeze in a nice nap and have enough time to get ready too. 
As you get up from the table, you notice that Jungkook is no longer in the room but you don’t think about it. Maybe after the wedding, you’ll get a chance to speak to him about everything that’s happened between you guys but for now at least, you decide to focus your efforts on Alex and Thalia. 
Sophia is still conked out when you get upstairs to her room but you wake her up knowing she’ll want time to freshen up before she needs to start getting ready. Groggily, she sits up in bed and frowns when she sees you back in your pyjamas. 
“I’m taking a nap,” you say, answering her question prematurely. “Wake me up in an hour please.”
“Sure,” she croaks, reaching for her stanley. 
As she sips on the water slowly, still sitting up in a sleepy haze, you get comfortable beside her and ask Alexa to play some white noise to help drown out everything else. As always, it works like a charm and you’re fast asleep after only a few moments. 
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“Wine.” Mrs Cirillo glances around, eyes narrowing as she looks at the tables. “We need wine.”
“Are you sure, mom?” Sophia asks, looking around. “There’s plenty to serve already.”
“Sweetheart, have you forgotten what guests we’re serving? There’s lots of family coming too.”
“Oh, right,” Sophia nods. “It’s been a slow day, mom.”
Mr Cirillo isn’t paying attention though, still looking around and she counts something under her breath before releasing a sigh with a frown. “I definitely ordered wine too, where is it?” She pulls out her phone. “Have either of you seen Charlie?”
“Charlie?” you ask. 
“He’s the guy in charge of the catering,” Sophia answers for you before answering her mom. “Last I saw he was in the kitchen checking on the canapés, and mom I saw some crates when I was coming down earlier, maybe they’re still there?”
“Would you mind checking, darling? And please ask someone to bring them over if they are?” Mrs Cirillo says, still scrolling through her phone and looking concerned. 
You’re sure there’s still 101 other things she’s worried about right now since guests are supposed to be arriving any moment and the wine is just one of those problems. It probably would have been easier if this was a more traditional rehearsal dinner but considering the majority of the guests are from out-of-town, the families thought it discourteous not to invite them tonight.
“We can bring them,” you offer, getting up from your seat. 
“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Yes girls, if you could please it would be amazing.” She looks around once more but you can only see the house guests scattered around and no catering or even decor staff in sight. “Actually, find Alias” she says, looking back with a nod. “He can do it, I’m sure he’s in the kitchen stuffing his face anyway.”
“Sure, mom,” Sophia says, getting up with you. “Let us know if you need anything else.”
��Thank you girls,” she answers, attention returning to her phone as you both walk back towards the path that goes around the house to the front. 
“I’m calling Alias,” Sophia says, pulling her phone out of her purse. “That doofus is around her somewhere.”
“I think the kitchen probably is our best shot but let’s find the wine first.”
“I’m gonna kill him when I see him though, he should be here already.”
“I’m sure he is,” you laugh, “he was down here two hours ago helping with everything.”
“Still, he knows how stressed mom gets.”
Just as you come around the corner towards the driveway, you spot Alias, sleeves rolled up and helping some of the caterers already. 
“Yep, he does,” you answer as you and Sophia come to a pause. 
Sophia just shrugs. “It’s the least that’s expected of him.”
“Fair enough,” you shrug too. 
You know if Alias was getting married, Alex certainly would’ve been front and centre making sure everything was prepared and perfect for his brother's big day and Alias doing the same is, as Sophia put it, the least that’s expected of him.
Taking a crate of wine from one of the caterers unloading the van, Alias turns and smiles when he sees you both approaching. “Hey, Y/N, and hello princess,” he greets his sister as you both approach. “You finally decided to help.”
“It takes time to look this good,” Sophia says with a tut. 
“This is supposed to be good?” Alias teases his little sister. 
She simply rolls her eyes, taking a crate herself and you take one too being extra careful with the fairly heavy load. “Just take that inside. The guests are supposed to be here and mom is gonna freak if the wine isn’t sorted.”
“Yeah, caterers were running late but I’ve got some of the guys helping out here and there.”
Right on cue, Jungkook comes strolling out of the house and just like Alias, his sleeves are rolled up too. Why is he so damn good looking? You must really miss him because seeing him now has you feeling a desperate longing to at least just speak to him. 
He gives a small smile as he comes out but he could just as easily be looking at Sophia or Alias who are both standing right in front of you. 
“Good,” Sophia nods before glancing back at you. She purses her lips and looks back at Alias. “Come on then,” she says, brows raised. I’ll go check on the kitchen if they were all late.”
Without a word, Alias follows and suddenly it’s just you and Jungkook standing still in between the rush of a few panicked catering staff. 
Now you’re certain he’s looking right at you and just like that, you can hear your heart beating in your chest. It’s that cursed Jungkook Effect again but this time it feels worse.
“Hey,” he steps forward, smiling hesitantly.
“Hi,” you answer. Consciously, you try to smile but your nerves seem to be running high. Gosh, you hate this. Jungkook is your best friend, it shouldn’t feel like this. 
Jungkook steps forward again, walking until all that separates you is the crate you’re holding. You don’t miss the way his gaze skims your figure, looking back at your face by the time he’s in front of you. “Let me take that?” He asks it as a question but takes the heavy wooden box from you anyway, it’s one effortless motion and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. 
He’s looking at you carefully, searching for any clues he can use to dissect how you’re feeling. It makes you self-conscious even though you know Jungkook never has a bad word to say about you, but still, you have so much more to lose now and you’re already at a loss. 
“Thanks,” you smile, unable to look away from him despite how you’re feeling. You really have missed him and the past few days have proven to you just how much. 
For a moment, neither of you say anything – a thousand unspoken words pass your mind and you feel your pulse rising, ushering you to say something but what? You wouldn’t know where to start, even though you know you want to say something. Anything.
“You look beautiful.” Jungkook’s gaze remains rooted on you as he says it, soft and sure.
Releasing a small breath – perhaps one of relief – you smile. “Thank you.” And just like that, your pulse slows down, your nerves subside and you’re calm. 
Focused entirely on you, Jungkook notices the change and reciprocates. His lips curl into a smile, not so big but enough for it to reach his eyes but it’s familiar to you and it’s unexpectedly comforting.“You’re welcome,” he says.
The train of thought in your mind slows down and something about the way Jungkook is looking at you now tells you everything is going to be okay. This must be why, you think, feeling all your worries melt away – it’s no surprise that you’re in love with him, with the way he’s looking at you now, you wonder if he’s always looked at you with this much care and adoration.
For the first time, you see Alex’s point and now you think, was he right?
As though he can read your thoughts, Jungkook’s expression changes and he says your name, pausing with bated breath.
“Yes?”
“Can we talk?”
Suddenly, you’re flustered. “Well, yes, I–now?”
“Um…” Jungkook turns around, looking at the hurried staff and back at the house. “Later,” he says, looking back at you. “After dinner?”
You nod. “Sure.”
“Okay.” He nods too, smiling. “I should probably take this inside now,” he says, still not looking away from you. “But I’ll see you later.”
Again, you nod, and this time you can’t help but laugh, feeling so relieved that things feel more normal than before. His smile grows when he hears you laugh, and he nods once more before turning away and walking back into the house.
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“Thank you all for coming tonight and please enjoy the rest of the evening!”
A loud echo of cheers and conversation follows after Mr Cirillo closes off the final speech, with you and your friends included, all raising your glasses before taking a sip of your champagne.
“I can’t believe my baby brother’s getting married,” Alias says, having already emptied his glass. A flute of champagne is a mere two sips to him at most. 
“Feeling sentimental big brother?” Sophia asks, smiling.
“You know what? I think I am,” he says, turning to her with a smile. “You better not be next, I’m not ready for you, okay?”
She laughs. “I’m not even dating anyone.”
“Good, keep it that way.” He looks ahead again but puts his arm around his little sister and kisses her forehead. 
Neither of them say a word but Sophia lets him pull her in, a grimacing smile on her face. As siblings, the Cirillo’s are rarely physically affectionate with each other, especially these two, so it warms your heart to see it. 
“Seems you're not the only one feeling sentimental.” Sophia points at their mom who is hugging Thalia and wiping away a few tears as Alex laughs, no doubt teasing his mom. 
“Alright, they're not married yet so no tears tonight guys…” Alias looks at you guys and you all agree. 
You look around the table and at Jungkook who sits a few seats away from you on the round table, noticing how he seems so much brighter than before. He looks your way too and you exchange smiles, still timid but no longer anxious.
Just then, ABBA plays loud on the speakers and Alias is ushering everyone up and to the dance floor. 
“Okay, hang on,” you laugh as he drags you out. “I need to pee!”
You feel a little bit tipsy having had a few to drink now but Alias holds you and pulls you onto the dance floor. Sophia and Jungkook are right there behind you, as well as Kelce, Shay, Elisa and some of the others. Sophia takes your hand as the pre chorus starts and you all belt out the lines in unison.
There’s not a soul out there, no one to hear my prayers! Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?!
You get carried away with the chorus, dancing and spinning along as you always do, and just when the chorus plays, Alias takes a hold of you as you dance, swaying you together left and right while you laugh gleefully. Laughing with you, he then not so subtly twirls you in the direction of Jungkook and with a little push, you end up bumping into his chest.
He looks down at you, smiling wide. Still mid-sentence of the song, you laugh and he joins you as you finish the chorus. As the music slows into the next verse, Your friends are still singing and dancing but now, you can only focus on the feeling of Jungkook holding you, one hand on your lower back and the other on your arm. 
You know it must be the lights around you but the way his eyes twinkle have you feeling weak in the knees. With a smile still gracing his lips, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ears and that’s all it takes for you to feel shy. It would feel silly if the context were different but then his gaze drops to your lips for a second and you suddenly feel butterflies in your tummy as he locks eyes with you again. 
The moment is brief and from next to you, your friends start to shout out the lines again and Jungkook and you join in. You feel his hand let go of your arm and as you step to the side, one stays on your lower back but only for a moment.
Sophia catches your eye immediately and grins knowingly before she nods in the direction of the house. You know what she means and as the song comes to an end and the next one starts, you excuse yourself. 
“Hey!” Alias calls over the loud music. ”This is your favourite, where are you going?!” 
“It’s not mine, it’s my dads,” you laugh.
“Ah, yeah.” Alias, nods, undoubtedly remembering your dad’s 45th birthday party. “Let me find him,” he grins, walking off in the opposite direction.
Jungkook is looking your way as he dances with Dillon and Shay, and you smile before following Sophia as she tugs your hand again.
Many people have had more than a few glasses of wine so you have to excuse yourself as lots of guests bump into you, no doubt enjoying the evening as much as you are.
“What was that?!” Sophia asks excitedly as you both walk up towards the house.
“I don't even know,” you say. Still giddy from all the excitement. 
“Has he spoken to you yet?”
“Not yet. He said he would after the party, so I guess I'll just wait for him to come to me.”
“Well, he totally looked like he was gonna kiss you.”
“Sophia!”
“What?” She laughs. “We all know he wants to.”
“Actually we don’t,” you say, somewhat soberly. 
It’s true, he said he wants to talk to you but he didn’t say what about. It feels easy to be hopeful that he's going to say what you want him to say and Sophia isn’t wrong – he did look like he wanted to kiss you back there, but still, there’s something stopping you from feeling hopeful.
“Oh, come on, this is the moment we've all been waiting for,” she says excitedly, squeezing your arm.
“Maybe,” you laugh, trying your best to push it to the back of your mind. “But let’s just focus on tonight and make sure you drink some water please.”
‘Oh yeah,” she nods, “can’t be looking glum for tomorrow!” 
“No, you can’t.”
She sighs, stopping outside the main bathroom on the ground floor, one of many in the grand estate. “Okay, go, I’m gonna go upstairs.”
“Okay.”
After a moment, you’re drying your hands and stepping out of the bathroom. Sophia’s still not here so you walk towards the staircase just around the corner. Just as you do, she comes down, adjusting her dress as she walks. 
“You look lovely,” you reassure her.
“Thanks, boo,” she says, jumping down the last two steps now that she's exchanged her heels for flats.
“Ooh, wait.” You hold her still as you fix her hair parting for her, carefully moving it back to where she initially styled it… 
“She’s not here tonight but she’ll be here tomorrow, of course.” Two quiet voices grow louder as they probably walk in the direction of the loo.
“I wonder if they’ll announce themselves as a couple. Jungkook has always seemed to be the more private type.”
Hearing Jungkook’s name makes you pause and Sophia frowns at you but her question is answered as the conversation outside is continued, and she too, goes still as she listens.
“Well, yes, Jungkook is private, but Valentina? She would announce it to everyone if she could.”
What?
“Ah, yes, it’ll probably be all over their social media pages, whatever it is they’re using today.”
“Instagram I believe. In fact, she’s probably already published something. With the way they were kissing for all the world to see as she took him up to her room.”
Your heart drops.
“Oh, I heard, Josepehine said she walked past them as they went into her room and she had no shame, even laughing in front of her as pulled his tie off.”
Now you start to feel sick and the anxiety comes rushing in.
“Kids these days, so different from us.”
“I remember I had to hide it from my parents for months!”
“And they still caught you, ha!”
Together, whoever they are laugh and their voices grow more distant as they pass by.
Sophia’s expression has dropped and she whispers your name.
You stare at her blankly, still processing what you’ve just heard. 
“Hey,” Sophia says hushedly, taking your arms, “they don’t know what they’re talking about.” She looks around the corner before looking back at you. “It was just Mrs Morgan and her friend, they’re stupid and love to gossip about anything.”
You can tell she’s trying her best to make you feel better but it won’t work.
“You know what they’re like, they get a tiny hint at anything and they run with it, it’s not true–”
“It is.” Your voice sounds hopeless, even to you.
Sophia pauses, confusion written all over her face. “What?”
“I’m sure of it.” You look up at her, the memory coming back to you. 
You were at the party and Alias told you Jungkook was downstairs at the lounge where you'd seen Valentina kissing some guy in the elevator. When Alias told you Jungkook was last at the lounge around the same time, you thought of the possibility then but stopped yourself because how could it be? You could almost laugh at yourself now you’ve heard it from someone else – it must've been true because Jungkook didn't show up once that night, nor did Valentina after you saw her.
Relaying the memory of the night to Sophia in somewhat of a haze thanks to the drinks you’ve had, she simply stares at you for a few seconds before shaking her head.
“No, that doesn't mean anything, Y/N.” She says it so surely and you want to believe her.
“But it would make sense.”
“No, well yes, but even then, actually no,” she says, conflicted, before taking your hands again. “Look, it can't make sense because there is no way Jungkook slept with Val, he’s in love with you.”
You wish you could believe it, especially because you want to. She’s right that it makes no sense and that's considering Jungkook’s character alone – he wouldn’t do that, not to himself and not to you. But right now, tonight of all nights, you don’t want to think about it.
“Let’s get a drink,” you mumble, taking her hand and walking back towards the party.
She follows but her concern remains. “I’ll go talk to him, I know it’s not true–”
“No, not tonight,” you say, shaking your head. “Let’s just focus on the wedding, okay?”
She hesitates before giving in. “Okay, fine.” 
It’s a quiet walk back to the garden but Sophia takes you through the house towards the kitchen to get you a drink and then to the path that leads to the poolhouse, avoiding the party. You can still see everything as you walk and you catch a sight of Jungkoook and Alias dancing together. There’s a happy smile on Jungkook’s face that makes you feel a deep sense of longing and just like that, everything hurts again.
Tearing your eyes away from the scene, you keep walking and stop with Sophia by the sunbeds. You sit down, putting your purse next to you as you take a big sip of your drink and she sits in front of you, watching you. “I don’t want to believe it,” you say quietly, after a moment.
“Then don’t. I know I don’t.”
You look at her and see she means it. Tears well unbidden in your eyes and you have to take a deep breath and look up at the night sky to compose yourself. You absolutely refuse to cry any more – it’s stupid and annoying that things keep going in circles like this.
“Oh, Y/N, babe. “ Sophia pulls out some tissue from her purse to give to you and you use them to carefully get rid of the tears.
With another deep breath, you look back at her. “I’m fine, this is all just stupid.”
Just as she’s about to comfort you again, two giggling voices come out of the pool house and you look up to see Alex and Thalia, holding arms and cooing each other as smitten as ever as they walk out.
“Heeey!” Alex calls happily as he sees you both but he halts almost immediately, noticing that you’re not okay. “Hey,” he says again, now with much worry and confusion in his voice as he comes and sits next to you.
Thalia shares the same expression as her fiance and she sits on your other side. “What happened?”
You feel stupid and annoyed at yourself now. The last thing you want is to worry the bride and groom the night before their big day but you also know that they won’t let up now that they’ve seen you. Wordlessly, you look at Sophia and she tells them in a short summary what you just heard.
“I don’t believe it,” Alex says as surely as his sister did.
Thalia takes your hand. “Neither do I. Do you?”
“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.
They all stay quiet for a moment and all you can hear is the music closeby, with your favourite song now playing. You wonder if Jungkook is looking for you, having always known you love to dance when it comes on.
Then Alex gets up. “I’m gonna ask him.”
You get up straight away. “No, please don’t.” You look back at Thalia too. “It’s the night before your wedding, I don’t want to think about it, we can deal with it after.” You look back at Alex. “Please.”
He sighs and Thalia squeezes your hand. “Of course,” she says, reassuring you as you sit back down. In doing so, you miss the look that Alex gives Sophia and the silent exchange that the two siblings share as she nods her head in the direction of the party.
“Alright, but I’ll get you another drink,” he says.
Mindlessly, you nod, too distracted to realise that your glass is still half full. As he walks off, Sophia moves next to you too.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Thalia asks, rubbing your back soothingly.
“Not really,” you say. “I don’t think I should even be upset over it, it’s completely one-sided and he never said anything for me to believe otherwise.”
Thalia is about to say something and you’re sure she’s about to use the same argument that Sophia gave earlier – he’s in love with you so he wouldn’t sleep with someone else – but she stops herself and you’re kinda grateful for it. You don’t need to hear that he loves you when he hasn’t even said it to himself. 
The look on his face when you danced together returns to your mind and you feel your chest tighten. You really thought that was the look of someone in love but you must’ve been wrong.
“You’re allowed to be upset,” Sophia says, “but don’t be until you know what actually happened.”
Quietly, you sigh.
“She’s right,” Thalia agrees. “I know what you heard makes sense to you but it’s not something Jungkook would do.”
“I know,” you exhale, confused and now tired. “But how could I know for sure? He’s barely been talking to me since that night with Lawrence.”
“True,” Sophia nods. “That’s kind of silly of him.”
“Right?” you say, feeling a multitude of emotions now. “And even then, I did try to make things okay but he wasn’t listening to me.”
“You mean when he kept saying you should go out with Lawrence?”
“Yeah, like, why would he not just listen to me?!” you ask, now adding irritated and exasperated to your exhaustive list of emotions.
“True,” Sophia agrees. “Honestly, guys are just dumb.”
“They are,” Thalia agrees. “And truthfully,” she adds, glancing at you. “They’re even more dumb when they’re in love.”
You look at her as Sophia just hums in approval. “Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Thanks guys but I’m just not gonna think about it until after tomorrow.” You smile at them.
Although they can see right through you, they don’t press it further.
“You still wanna dance?” Sophia asks, a playful lilt to her voice as she nudges you.
You’re about to say no but the last thing you wanna do is be the reason your friends don’t have fun tonight. Sophia is the groom’s sister but she’s also your best friend and you know if you choose to retire she would join you so you don’t have to be alone, and Thalia would worry about you all night too.
“Sure,” you nod with a bigger smile. “But another drink first,” you say, downing what’s left in your glass now that the blissful effects of your previous drinks seem to have worn off.
Sophia laughs, getting up. “Of course.” 
Together, you walk back up the path, Sophia changing the subject to what Thalia was doing with Alex in the pool house.
“We didn’t do anything,” she laughs. “We just wanted some alone time.”
“You’re about to marry the guy, that’s the rest of your life with him.”
Thalia smiles. “Still couldn’t be enough.”
Sophia laughs. “Okay, I don’t know whether to be cringed out because that was actually cute.”
“It is cute. I’ve put it in my vows too actually,” Thalia says, proud.
“I can’t wait to hear them,” you tell her. “I’ll probably cry too.”
“Not more than my brother,” Sophia says. “Alex almost cried seeing you today, Thalia.”
“He told me, but honestly I think I’ll be crying myself, I just hope I don’t ruin my makeup.”
“Who did you book for it?” you ask.
The conversation shifts to makeup artists and hair stylists as you all take a few more drinks and together make your way over to the dessert table. You don’t have much of an appetite so you’re about to reapply some lip gloss only to realise you left your purse on the sunbed.
“You want some, Y/N?” Thalia holds out a plate for you but you decline.
“I’m alright, I’m just gonna go get my purse, guys, I left it on the sunbed.”
Sophia looks back at you as she takes a macaron. “Want me to come with?”
“No, all good, I’ll be back in a minute,” you say, already walking off in the opposite direction, past the crowd surrounding the desserts table and onto the path that leads away from the party.
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“Tell me it’s not true.”
Alex’s voice is the first thing Jungkook hears before he even turns around.
“Hey,” he smiles, holding out the drink he’d just picked up for himself, only to frown when he sees his friend's expression.
“Please.”
Jungkook has only seen Alex annoyed a handful of times over their decade long friendship and right now, Alex looks pretty close to being annoyed. “What are you talking about?” he asks, concerned.
Alex glances around. There’s no one nearby who could overhear since they’re standing at a drinks table close to the house with only servers around, but Jungkook moves himself anyway.
Putting his glass down, he walks away from the table and Alex walks with him. After a few yards when there’s definitely no one in earshot, Alex stops.
“On the cruise,” he starts, looking straight at his friend. “Did you sleep with Valentina?”
Jungkook looks startled and equally offended. “What? Of course not!” he answers immediately, now with increasing concern.
Alex shares the same concern, evident in his tone. “Then why do people think you did?!”
“I don’t know! Where is this coming from?!”
“Some of the other guests were talking about it.”
“Which guests? How would they know anything and why would they lie?!”
“I don’t know,” Alex sighs, shaking his head. “They must be confused.”
“How did you hear it? Who said it? I can talk to them,” Jungkoook says, already looking around at the people scattered across the expanse of the garden.  
Alex pauses, biting his lip. “Sophia overheard them.”
Jungkook goes still. That means… “And… has Y/N…?”
Alex nods, lips pursed before Jungkook even finishes his sentence. “They were together.”
Jungkook stares at his friend completely confused as a hundred thoughts race through his mind – all of them stop at you. “Fuck,” he sighs. “Did she believe it?”
“I’m not sure, but she said she saw Valentina in the lounge, kissing someone going into the elevator. She couldn't see their face and then a few hours later, she was looking for you and some of the guys told her you were in the lounge… the same time–”
“The same time she saw Valentina,” Jungkook exhales slowly, feeling deflated. “I keep fucking up,” he says quietly after a moment. “I should’ve just told her the truth.”
“Which is?” Alex asks, despite already knowing the answer.
Jungkook finds a small smile on his lips even given the direness of the situation. “I love her.” He says it once and then smiles a bit wider.
Alex finds himself suddenly grinning. “I knew it.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Was I that obvious?”
“To everyone but her, my friend.” Alex looks at Jungkook, brows raised.
Just like that, Jungkook knows what he needs to do. “Help me find her.”
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You’re grateful you’re only wearing kitten heels as you walk along the path but it would’ve been a better idea to change into flats like Sophia did, especially since tomorrow you’ll be in high heels for the better portion of the day. 
“Y/N!” 
Someone calls your name and you pause, turning around.
It’s Jungkook. He’s jogging to catch up with you from the rest of the party. He must be coming to talk to you now that the night is coming to an end soon. Given how fast he is, it’s only a few short seconds before he’s in front of you, breathing a bit faster but not out of breath thanks to his perfect stamina.
You don’t know how you should be feeling right now. A part of you is angry at him for everything that has happened – you didn’t ask to start a fake relationship with him only for him to be the one to tell the truth about it because he thought you should be talking to Lawrence instead. And sure, you agreed to the fake relationship, but you’re not the reason for everything that came after and even though Jungkook had good intentions, he did disregard your feelings when you told him multiple times that you don’t like Lawrence romantically at all anymore. Sure, he couldn’t know it was because you have feelings for him instead, but that doesn't mean it was justified.
Another part of you just wants to have things go back to how they were because you really do miss your best friend and there’s nothing more you want than to have him back.
Then there’s the part of you that wonders if he really slept with Valentina. You could believe it, it all adds up and despite how unreliable the source is, you did see Valentina with someone, who now when you think about it, looked very much like Jungkook. The thought of it makes your stomach churn.
“Jungkook, I don’t wanna talk right now,” you mutter, turning away. 
“Wait, I really–”
“What?” you say, turning abruptly and stopping Jungkook from reaching for you. Immediately, you recoil, feeling bad. “Sorry.” You didn’t mean for it to come out like that.
“It’s okay,” Jungkook says, now hesitating.
The look on his face makes you feel even worse than before and you swallow hard. You’re still mad at him so without another word, you turn and walk away, and this time, Jungkook doesn’t stop you. With every step you take a deep breath and calm yourself down, and then–
“Do you honestly believe it?”
You stop in your tracks. Slowly, you turn around. “What?”
He watches you carefully. “Do you really believe it? That I–,” he pauses, sighing. “That I slept with Valentina?” 
You notice that he sounds hurt that it’s something he even has to ask you, and still, hearing it from him hurts far more. “What else am I supposed to believe?” you ask, feeling your walls crumbling but your tone remains rather defensive. “You never said anything otherwise.”
After your many years of friendship, Jungkook knows you and he knows that right now, you’re mad at him but you just need an answer. He knows you have every right to be annoyed at him because he hasn’t been honest with you about anything and it’s because of him that all of this happened in the first place.
“I’m telling you now,” he says, taking a step forward. “It’s not true.” He sees your expression flicker but nothing more. “Nothing happened, I literally spoke with her for five minutes that night before she went back to her room with some other guy.”
Relief — that’s the first thing you feel as you exhale a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “Okay?” You shrug, suddenly not sure what to say or do now he’s revealed the truth – you didn’t think this far ahead, having only thought of the worst. “Good for you,” you carry on, crossing your arms. “I don’t care anyway.”
“Yes you do,” Jungkook says, plain as day.
You flare, albeit lightly. 
Traces of a smile appear on his face and he carries on. “You do care,” he says, stepping forward slowly, this time without stopping. “And I’m sorry you had to hear it how you did, I know I’d feel shit if I heard the same thing about you.”
What? You’re trying to figure it out – does he know?
Jungkook sighs, smile growing and he stops close to you. You almost step back but stop yourself. He looks down at you with a familiar adoration in his expression.
Softly, he says your name. “You’ve been my best friend for years now, how long has it been since I’ve even looked at anyone else, yet alone slept with them?”
Saying nothing, you shake your head with a small shrug. A long time.
“Heck, I don’t even know myself,” Jungkook laughs softly. “All I know is that for me, my attention was always somewhere else.” 
Your head tilts, brows creasing just slightly. “What are you saying?” you ask, feeling your heart rate speed up as you wait for the answer you want more than anything to hear.
Jungkook’s eyes roam your face for a second, the smile still carved on his lips and he exhales. “I’m in love with you.” You feel his fingers curl around your palms as he takes your hands. “I’m in love with you and I have been for a long time, longer than I even know.”
You say nothing, lips parted as though you want to but nothing comes out as no complete thoughts form in your head. You just feel your heart hammering in your chest and a fuzzy wave of warmth rushes ripples through you.
“I…”
“You don’t have to say anything now,” he says, “I just had to tell you, and again, I'm sorry.”
You’re grateful that you’re standing close enough to the dance floor because if it weren't for the music playing you're sure he would be able to hear how loud your heart is beating in your chest.
“Y/N!” Another voice calls your name from close by. It’s your mom. 
Jungkook turns around, letting go of your hands and she waves when she sees you, smiling as she approaches. “Darling, come take a photo with your father and I,” she grins, completely unaware she’s interrupting anything. “Jungkook, you look dashing,” she smiles at him as she takes your hand. “Nice to see you two have made up from whatever you were arguing about too,” she says, looking at you in question but she doesn't wait for a response from him. Her giddiness tells you she’s had more than her usual liquor intake.
Still reeling from what Jungkook just told you, you just nod and follow wordlessly as she pulls you towards your dad.
“Ah, there she is, my beautiful daughter,” he beams, “come here.”
You wish you could be more present as your parents share a sweet moment of appreciation for you, but you just smile and nod, hugging and kissing them in return as you all take a bunch of selfies together. Your smile is genuine enough though, Jungkook’s confession replaying over and over in your head as it becomes more real.
He loves me.
“Mom, dad,” you say, interrupting them both as they play around with some filters. 
“Yes, honey,” they respond in unison, still slightly distracted.
“Um… Jungkook told me he loves me.”
Both your parents' heads snap up together and you see the biggest smile on your moms face and a look of pure surprise on your dads.
“That kid finally did it,” you hear him say quietly to himself as his expression changes to a smile.
“He did?” your mom cries excitedly, squeezing your arm. “What did you say?”
“Well, you called me then to come here–”
“What?” your dad interrupts, disappointed. “Oh, honey, we’re sorry.”
“It’s okay, I can find him now, but dad…” you frown, thinking about what he just said to himself. “Did you know?”
Your dad shrugs with a smirk. “I had a feeling. A strong one.” He nods in your moms direction and she smiles proudly. “Your mom did too.”
You can't help but laugh. “Everyone apart from me it seems.”
“Well go find him now then,” your mom ushers.”Want me to help you?”
“It’s okay.” Getting up, you kiss both of their cheeks before turning away to go and find Jungkook.
Many of the guests have returned to their hotels or homes now and it’s much easier to find someone from across the garden. As you get closer to the house, you see Thalia and Sophia sitting on the veranda and they grin when they see you coming.
“So,” Thalia says as they sit on the seats in front of you. “Jungkook found you?”
You look at her and Sophia, unable to contain your happiness. “He said loves me,” you say out loud.
They look surprised for a split second before squealing in excitement.
“He finally told you?” 
“This is so exciting”
“Mhm,” you nod, laughing. You’re sure they must’ve already heard it from Jungkook first, given their expressions when you approached, but you appreciate their excitement nonetheless.
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t.” I should have. “My mom came.” 
“Oh.” Their expressions have dropped ever so slightly and you feel it.
“I should have, right?”
“Well, maybe something but your mom came so it's fine,” Sophia says. “Find him now.”
You’re just about to spring into action when THalia stops you.
“The guys have all gone upstairs, Jungkook too,” she says, frowning apologetically. “We’re not supposed to see any of them until the ceremony tomorrow.”
“That's a family tradition,” Sophia says, waving her hand. “But we have an exception here.” 
You wish more than anything to see Jungkook now but you also don't want to disrespect their family – you know the kids won't mind but perhaps Mr and Mrs Cirillo, and Thalia’s parents.
“No, it's fine,” you say, smiling reassuringly. “It's just one day, and at least I know the truth now.”
“Fair enough,” they agree.
“Wow, we might have another wedding again next year now,” Sophia grins, winking at you.
You laugh, feeling a wave of joy as you lean back into the cushions and tell the girls exactly how your conversation with Jungkook went. 
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“You may now kiss the bride.”
Laughter and cheer erupts around you as Alex ever so sweetly kisses his bride, cheeks cupped in his hands. It’s a lingering kiss, a sweet one and it has your heart about to burst with joy. 
Across from you, Jungkook is laughing too, cheering for his best friend and he catches your eye for the nth time now and grins, making you smile even wider.
As the bride and groom depart for their photographs, Sophia drags you to the bar and you both get a drink while recapping the events of the morning and then she gets summoned away for the family photos which must mean that the groomsmen are done with their pictures too.
“I’ll come with you.”
“Of course you will,” she laughs, knowingly. “Does this mean you're finally gonna tell him you love him too?”
“I think so,” you grin. “As long as I don't chicken out.”
“You better not, otherwise I’ll tell him for you.”
“Don't worry. I don't think I will.”
“Well definitely not, I know you're so gonna get laid tonight.”
“Hey” you laugh. “I mean it would be nice but I don't care either way.”
“That's sweet, she says, “but please, don't be coy. After all this waiting it would be an injustice to not get laid.”
Suppressing a laugh, you nod. “Okay, noted.”
As you approach the quiet gardens, you spot some of the other groomsmen, Alias included, but not Jungkook. Alias sees you and answers your question before you can even ask it. “He went to look for you.”
Ah,” you nod. “Thanks.”
Saying a temporary goodbye, you walk in the opposite direction away from the gardens and back towards the venue. It's so beautiful here with tall oak trees spread across the lush and perfectly manicured grounds surrounding the elegant mansion. You’re momentarily distracted by the views that you don't notice jungkook as he walks out from around the mansion, smiling as he approaches. 
When you do spot him, he’s stopped in the path ahead of the fountain, holding his own bouquet of flowers in front of his chest. Smiling, you approach him slowly. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, unable to fight back his smile.
You stop in front of him, as close as he was to you yesterday and gaze at him.
“You look beautiful,” he says quietly. “Again. You look beautiful everyday,” he adds with a shake of his head.
“Thank you. You look pretty handsome today too.”
“Thanks.” He looks down shyly, lowering the bouquet. “These are for you.”
Looking down at the bouquet, it’s full and in bloom of all your favourite flowers and you know that’s not a coincidence. “They’re lovely.” Taking them from him, you admire them a little longer before looking back up. 
“I'm glad you like them. He takes them back from you and places them on the bench beside you. 
You’re confused for a second but when he turns back, he wraps both arms around your waist and pulls you into him, head burying into your neck. Muscle memory serves you well as you melt into his embrace, his scent engulfing you as your arms wrap around his neck as his chest presses flush against you.
He hums softly and you reckon you could stay here forever. Now you wonder, how did you never realise you were in love with him? Why did it take all of this unnecessary awkwardness and distance for you to know why you’ve always been so unavailable to others? Jungkook has always been the one person whose company you've craved when no matter what the occasion and the only one who really feels like home.
“I missed you,” you murmur, fingers gently moving across his neck as you move.
He keeps you close, arms tight around you. “I know, me too.” His eyes dip to your lips.
“Let's never do that again.”
“Agreed,” he nods, smiling with a wince. “Even though I know it was really my fault.”
“Oh, 100%” you say, feeling the space between you grow smaller and smaller. “All your fault.”
Now, you're looking at his lips.
Jungkook notices and he moves his hand up, slowly sweeping your neck until he’s cupping your cheek in his broad palm, the other arm still holding you tight. He smiles ever so slightly, and when you look up, you can see he’s waiting for something for you. So you nod, and that's all he needs.
He closes the space between you, lips meeting yours in a gentle brush once. Lips parted, you pull away briefly, moving your hand up to cradle his jaw before leaning in again for a more deliberate kiss. He hums, softly, and returns for more, one by one getting longer and more keen. The seconds melt away into minutes and you don't quite know how long you were standing here for, you only know that it feels perfect.
“I love you,” Jungkook murmurs, pecking your lips once more, then your nose and forehead.
You squeeze your arms around his waist. “Say it again.”
He chuckles, sweeping your hair back to kiss your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs low into your ear, hot breath warming your skin. “I love you, I love you, I love you so much, princess.”
Biting your lip, you find yourself suddenly feeling something you haven't felt in a long time, except recently that night in bed with him on the cruise – a feverish desire for more.
Holding his face in front of you, you kiss his lips. “I love you too.” 
He blinks, endearingly. “I was waiting for that.”
You sigh with an air of amused disappointment. “Why couldn't we have just realised sooner? It would have made our lives so much easier.”
“I think I always knew actually.” He takes your hand and you sit down at the bench. “At least for a long time, I knew there was something.”
“Really?”
He hums, putting his arm around you and you lean into him. “I just didn't really let myself think about it much though, I didn’t wanna change things in case you didn't feel the same, which Ii don't think you did.” he thinks out loud, honestly.
For a moment, you're quiet. “I did.”
He looks at you.
“I don't know from when, but I think I just didn't realise.” Playing with the ring on his finger, you smile. “I probably should have just listened to Alex from the start.”
“Alex?”
“Mhm,” you nod. “He’d been telling me for months that you were into me, I just didn't see it.”
“Ah,'' Jungkook nods, pink tingeing his cheeks as he looks down.
“But now we’re good,” you say, cocking your head and smiling.
“Now we’re good,” he repeats, sealing his sentence with a kiss.
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The evening reception goes on late into the night, later than you expect it to. It’s 8pm by the time all the guests turn up and within the next two hours, you've gone through all the emotions thanks to a round of heartfelt speeches from all the family and friends. Alias and Sophia’s speech made you tear up the most and you didn't even dare look in a mirror knowing your makeup is probably already so far beyond repair but luckily Sophia has magic hands and has a technique to apply concealer over powder, so not all was lost.
Except now you can feel yourself tearing up again as Alex and Thalia have their first dance, gazing lovingly at each other while Etta James’ At Last plays in the background with a live band. 
“They’re so perfect together,” you murmur, leaning your head back against Jungkook’s shoulder as you watch them from a raised platform close to the band.
He wraps his arms a little tighter around your waist. “Are we perfect together?”
“Of course,” you grin, looking up at him.
He wrinkles his nose, about to lean in to kiss you when someone coughs quietly next to you. Turning around, you see Valentina with a drink in her hand, coughing again as though she was just choking.
“Are you okay?” You take her drink from her.
“Fine,” she says, waving a hand as she clears her throat and straightens up. “I was actually coming over here to congratulate you since you’ve evidently made up now and have finally realised you’re both stupid in love with each other.” 
Jungkook and you smile sheepishly.
“Then I heard you talking and gosh…” Valentina winces, although her eyes twinkle with amusement as she looks back and forth between you. “You really are disgustingly cute together.”
You let out a snort of laughter. “Thanks, Val.”
You feel Jungkook caress the small of your back. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” She swiftly retrieves her drink from you. . “I’m glad you worked it out. See you later, guys.” She struts off, as perfect as she always is and disappears into the crowd.
The band closes off the song and everyone applauds, cheering for the happy couple.Then, the familiar melody of Elvis Presley Can't Help Falling In Love starts to play.
“Wanna dance?”
Scanning the crowd, you consider it. Mrs Cirillo is going around, inviting people to the dance floor, pulling some too. 
“I feel kinda shy.”
“What?” Jungkook steps next to you, taking your hand. “Why?”
“I don't know,” you laugh. “It’s fine, lets go.”
“You sure?” Jungkook furrows his brows. “We don't have to.”
“No, I want to,” you reassure him.
Just then, someone approaches from behind Jungkook. “Just who I wanted to see.” Mrs Cirillo is beaming as she approaches you. “I knew you two would fall in love eventually.” She takes your hands and pulls you to the centre of the dance floor. “I just don’t know why it took you so long,” she says before kissing your cheek, then Jungkook’s. “Bless you both,” she grins, before she’s off again.
“I guess we have no choice now.” You step closer to Jungkook and he pulls you in by the waist as your arms hang loosely over his neck. Neither of you say anything as the song plays, the words speaking volumes for you instead – as cheesy as it may seem.
Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you
Fittingly, Jungkook breaks out into a cheesy smile and you both laugh. He pulls you in and together, you share your first dance as a couple. “So,” Jungkook clears his throat, “just to clarify, in case it wasn’t clear, you’re my girlfriend now.”
You feign surprise. “I am?”
Jungkook pouts his lips, his expression a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “Don’t be mean.”
Giggling, you kiss his cheek.”Ask me nicely.”
Jungkook sighs dramatically but plays along with a smirk. “Princess, would you please do me the honour of being my girlfriend? So I can love you and spoil you forever?”
With a smug grin, you nod. “Of course.”
“Just don’t be that annoying couple who do everything together,” Alias’s voice comes from behind you. Turning around, you see Alex, Thalia and Sophia having gathered too, all wearing knowing smiles. 
“Weren’t they always that annoying couple?” Alex says, brows arching as he smiles as smug as when he first saw you and Jungkook walking into the hall together holding hands. Being the groom on his wedding day, he never got to say anything to you then, but you knew he knew as he nudged Thalia and gestured to your direction. She looked like she was about to cry when she saw you together, though you suppose she was already feeling emotional from the ceremony prior. Still, it was heartwarming to see your friends so happy for you.
“That’s true,” Thalia agrees. 
“At least this time they won’t be sulking around and pining over each other,” Sophia banters.
Alias cringes in jest. “No, instead they’ll be wearing matching pyjamas, or worse yet, slippers.”
He’s definitely referring to the matching sweaters you got for Jungkook and yourself last year – and that was before you were a couple.
“Can’t forget the His and Hers mugs,” Jungkook amuses them as they all groan playfully.
Entertained, you join in. “Oh and the keychains,” you add. “Jewellery too.”
“I’ve already ordered matching charm bracelets,” Jungkook winks.
“Alright, we’ve heard enough,” Sophia laughs.
Alias clicks his tongue. “I definitely know what you two are getting for Christmas this year.”
“But–” Sophia wags her finger between you both, “–just give us a heads up if there’s any proposals on the horizon, I can’t do another wedding cruise single.”
Alias raises a finger. “I second that.”
Jungkook takes the lead as he responds. “Will do, but don’t take too long.” He has a mischievous glint in his eye and squeezes your hand. ‘I know I’m not.”
The fact that you’re not surprised by his answer is what actually surprises you. Smiling, dazed, you simply close your eyes as he pecks your cheek.
Meanwhile, Thalia squeals, excited, as Alex pats Jungkook’s arm, laughing as he encourages him. 
His brother on the other hand, groans, though there’s a heavy tone of cheerfulness in his voice as he pretends to complain, “they’ve already started.” 
Sophia blinks, “I wish I could be grossed out but damn it, I’m not.”
If it weren't for you being on cloud nine right now, you might actually feel sorry for making your friends put up with all of this cringeness, but as it so happens, you're revelling in it. “You might wanna get used to it, guys.” You pull Jungkook in closer, returning to a slow dance as the next song plays. After exchanging a few more playful words, Jungkook and you are left alone again, dancing to the music. 
“You meant that?” you ask.
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes. If you’re sure you want it too.”
Gaze locked on him, you nod. “How could I not?”
As Jungkook's smile lights up, he places a soft kiss on your lips, so soft that it barely feels like it happened. Hand on the back of his neck, you push down and keep him three for another. He obliges, letting you kiss him freely for all the world to see and quite frankly, you probably forget about your surroundings a bit too soon.
“Mm, wait.” You pull back, taking a deep breath. “Let’s pause,” you say, continuing to dance along with everyone else.
Jungkook’s eyes go round. “Why? You okay?”
“Yeah, I just… um…” You press your fingers into your palm, exhaling as you look down. “I’ll want more if we keep going.” You feel slightly embarrassed as you mumble out your response but Jungkook’s immediate reply makes you look up, surprised.
“Me too.”
“Really?”
“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling in his lower lip with his teeth as he comes to a slow stop and looks at you.
“What?”
“Let's get a drink,” he says, not even waiting for you to respond. There are more people dancing now so he weaves you through them, over to the mostly empty tables. Then towards the double doors leading into the rest of the mansion.
Huffing, you try your best to keep up. “I thought we were getting a drink.”
“No, I just said that.” He continues leading you as he walks through the corridors you hadn’t previously seen.
“Where are you going, Koo?”
“I went past it somewhere,” he says, talking more to himself as he keeps walking past a few doors, peering in each one as he does.
“Where?”
“Ah.” He stops, pulling you through a door. He lets go of your hand as he goes to close the door behind him.
Looking around the dimly lit room with only a small window on the far right, you narrow your eyes in confusion. There’s tall racks with coats and hats and other items, lined up along the walls and two others in the centre of the room. A single desk and chair is in one corner, multiple tags arranged in a box amongst a few other neatly placed items of stationary. “A cloak room?” you ask, dubiously, turning around. “Why are we–”
Jungkook kisses you – hard. Hands circling your waist, he’s stepping forward until you're backed up into a wall. One hand finds your cheek, thumb caressing your cheek sweetly while he tugs on your lower lip between his teeth. 
“Oh,” you sigh out loud, now realising. “Cloak room,” you say, dumbly.
“Uh-huh,” he purrs, lips moving to your jaw. “Couldn’t help myself.”
His hot breath sends shivers down your spine, hips arching against the wall. “That-that’s totally okay.”
“You sure?” His tongue swipes just under your jaw, close to your ear, oh so delicately.
“Absolutely.” Grabbing his face, you kiss him hard again, taking pleasure in every second that passes with his lips on yours. 
Opening wider, his tongue darts across yours, the salacious act leaving you desperate for more. You deepen the kiss, fingers curling in his hair as your hips involuntarily push forward again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates, pressing hard against you so you can physically feel just how bad he wants this. His bulge gets you right where it feels good and you falter, knees going weak as one gives way.
Jungkook holds you tight, laughing softly, “That good, huh?” 
“Duh.”
He kneels down, taking your ankle and lifting your heel to his thigh. “You're so pretty,” he says, more to himself than you. He takes your shoes off, right one first, then the left. With your foot still resting on his thigh, he looks up at you, hand slowly caressing your skin as he moves towards your inner thigh.
Even without the heels, you still feel your knees going weak but it feels so good. He watches your lips part, breaths picking up as you try your best to stay patient. “Please do something, Koo.”
“Patience, princess,” he teases and you whine, prompting him to laugh. “Okay.” Acquiescing, he turns his head, placing a rousing kiss on your skin. “So soft,” he murmurs, between kisses. “So perfect.” You want him so bad. “All mine.” With every touch of his lips, his mouth inches closer to where you want him, slowly but surely. Goosebumps prickling your skin, you release short soft breaths and will yourself to be patient.
Jungkook hums, nipping you with light force. “Feel good?” His tone tells you he’s tortured by his own pace as much as you are.
“Yes.”
He looks up, eyes glazed over with a hunger for more. “Tell me what you want.” His fingers brush your sex, barely. 
“Touch me, please.” 
He brushes you again, fingers working their way over your damp underwear. “Like this?” He revels in your soft whimpers.
“More.”
In one swift motion, he pulls your underwear down and reveals everything. You don’t feel shy in the slightest, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. “So pretty.” Fingers sliding over your wet lips, he exhales before he smacks you lightly. “And all mine.”
You whine, moving your hips again to remind him of your needs and he doesn’t make you wait this time. Collecting your slick on his fingers as he moves them back and forth, he then uses his thumb to stroke your clit, the contact making your knees buckle again.
Jungkoook grabs your left leg and places it over your shoulder as he repositions himself for better access. “Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste so good as well.”
“Why don't you find out?”
“Mm, I will,” Jungkook chuckles, sliding one finger inside you. “Not just yet.”
“Oh.” Your hand falls to his shoulder, digging in hard.
He stretches you,  watching as you react. Once he’s sure you're good, he adds a second finger, stroking exactly where it feels good.
“Please don’t stop.”
He grips your thigh, holding you up well. “I won’t.” Leaning in, his mouth makes contact with your clit and you mewl under his touch. He’s slow with it first, sucking and circling lightly and you want more. Under the soft silk of your dress, your nipples harden and you reach for one, toying with yourself. Seeing this, Jungkook groans. “That's it baby, touch yourself more.”
Obeying, you pull the straps off your shoulder and let the top of your dress fall, gathering around your waist where you hold it out of Jungkook’s way. His soft moan as you touch yourself tells you he’s enjoying it and as his fingers grip you harder, he starts to flick your clit.
“Oh, that’s it.” It's all you need to feel yourself reaching an orgasm, teetering on the edge as he adjusts his pace. “Please, I’m so close.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“I wanna hear you.” He fingers you harder as his tongue works overtime to get you to come and it works — in a rippling wave, your orgasm washes over you and all you can do is moan as pleasure courses through you. Jungkook keeps you up, slowing down once the peak has passed. He withdraws his fingers and you make sure to steady your legs as he stands. “You're so hot,” he says, looking at you in complete adoration and lust.
Feeling flushed, you manage to smile. “Thanks. Now my turn, please?”
Jungkook chuckles, stepping forward. “I don't think I can be that patient, princess.” As he presses against you, you can feel him a lot more than you could before.
“Oh.”
He tilts his head, hand brushing your chin as he pulls your lips to his. You can taste yourself as he kisses you, tongue stroking yours in tandem motion while he uses his other hand to caress your breasts, moulding the soft flesh before pinching your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. It rallies up arousal for more but your first priority is him. 
“Why are your clothes still on?” You question out loud, having just now realised.
Jungkook suppresses a chuckle, lips quirking into a smile as you make quick work of his tie and shirt.
Your hands roam the expanse of his broad, muscular chest. “Much better.” You only take a moment to appreciate the tattooed eye candy before pulling him back in for another sensual kiss, driven by your desire to make him feel good now, Fingers deftly undo his zipper and within seconds, your hand is slipping past his boxers and gripping his length. The girth alone has your pussy throbbing again. Jungkook releases a low sigh, his kisses becoming more insistent as you pull his cock out of his pants and play with him. 
With a slow swipe of your thumb over his head, Jungkook moans, teeth tugging on your lips and you drag your hand up and down his length, faster each time.
“Let me have a taste, please.”
“Fuck,” he sighs. Looking at your pleading face, he agrees.
You drop to your knees in an instant, letting your dress fall entirely as you go. Without wasting any time, your mouth is on his cock, tongue swirling his red, leaking tip before you move your head. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” he says, voice strained as he looks down at your naked form below him.
Focused on his cock and eager to please, you just hum in response and keep going while he gently moves your hair back, gripping it behind you and you have to squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to ease yourself to the sound of his soft grunts and groans. As they get louder, you grip his thighs and take him as deep as you can. Despite trying not to choke, you cough a little and Jungkook moves back, pulling himself out of your mouth. 
“You good?”
“Great,” you nod, trying to go back in.
Jungkook chuckles, pulling you up before you can get there. “I can’t wait any longer.” His pupils are blown out with carnal desire but his tone is otherwise gentle and affectionate. “Can I please fuck you?”
“You don't have to ask me twice.”
He pulls a condom out of his pocket, tearing the wrapper with his teeth.
Seeing this, your brow arches. “How do you have that?”
Jungkook pauses, looking slightly embarrassed. “Alias,” he says, more in a hushed whisper.
Pursing your lips together, you refrain from laughing. “Alias?”
Jungkook nods, placing the condom on while he explains. “He gave it to me just when we got here before you guys did. He said, and I quote, if there was ever a good time to declare my love for you in its physical form, it's a wedding.”
Shaking your head, you laugh again. “He would know.”
“Oh I know,” Jungkook nods. Alias has a bit of a reputation for being a womaniser on steroids when it comes to weddings.
“I’m glad he gave it though,” you shrug, pulling Jungkook closer. 
“Me too.” His lips find yours again, starting off sweet and slow. Hands circling your waist, he lifts you and your legs wrap around him instinctively. He takes his shirt from the rack you’d flung it towards earlier and walks you towards the desk in the corner and you use the chance to tease him, breaking away to kiss his ear and nibble his lobe.
“You sure you wanna do that?” he chuckles darkly.
“Very.”
He throws his shirt down on the desk before placing you on top. “You sure?” His fingers find your sex, gliding through your cum.
Dazed, you nod.
He takes his cock in one hand and spreads your legs with the other. With a small step forward, he pushes his head into your clit and you whine, wanting more. Deliberately, he slides himself down your pussy, coating his length in your cum. 
“Koo, do something,” you plead, fingers gripping the edge of the table hard.
Unable to resist any longer, Jungkook swears under his breath, pushing himself into you in one steady motion. You gasp, feeling the entirety of him fill you up so good. Jungkook doesn't move, eyes pressed shut as he acclimatises himself to the feeling of being inside you. 
The gratifying burn from being stretched out makes you tense in anticipation. As a result, Jungkook inhales, fingers gripping your thighs harder. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see both of you joined and slowly pulls out, watching his cock glisten with your wetness. Back and forth he goes, moaning at the sight of it.
“Fuck me, properly,” you huff, growing impatient with need.
He rolls his tongue on the inside of his cheek and smirks. In one quick motion, Jungkook shoves his dick back inside of you. “Done.”
You brace yourself, moving your hands back behind you on the table and you’re right to do so. Jungkook fucks you with no inhibition, hammering your sweet spot every single time. You always knew he was good at everything — cooking, golf, rugby, gardening, fixing things, running, heck any sport, singing, even poetry when he tries — but the way he fucks you goes beyond any expectation you could’ve had. 
You can do nothing but sit there and take it, jaw slack as your legs spread wide for him. Crying out for more, he gives you what you want and takes you to orgasm. A blissful sensation ensues, heightened by the fact that you’re with Jungkook and you cry his name as you climax. Holding your trembling frame secure, he follows closely himself, coming hard and hot into the condom. 
Heavy breathing is the only sound that fills the room for a moment. You’re basking in all of Jungkook’s post-sex glory, his chest glistening with a sheen of sweat as a few strands of hair now stick to his forehead. He lowers your legs to the desk, kissing you lazily on the forehead before he pulls out and disposes the condom in the trash can under the desk. 
He takes some tissues from the box behind you and attempts to clean himself before zipping up. “You okay?”
Exhaling, you push yourself off the desk. “Never been better.” Your legs wobble as you stand and Jungkook holds you still.
“Best sex I ever had,” he says as a passing comment, helping you clean up.
And you agree. “We’re definitely doing that again.” it’s just now, you realise you’re completely naked in the middle of the cloakroom.
Jungkook is already crossing the room, picking up your dress and heels. Together, you make sure you both look presentable enough to rejoin the wedding. 
Running your fingers through his hair, a smile graces his lips involuntarily. His happiness is infectious and you grin. “Happy?”
“Words can’t even describe it. Especially with you messing my hair up like that.” His eyes twinkle with mischief.
You laugh, swatting his arm gently. "Hey, I'm going for the tousled look. It's called fashion, Jeon, look it up.
"Of course," he says, nodding sagely. "My mistake. You're clearly ahead of your time.
"Exactly!" you say, with mock seriousness. "Now, are you going to kiss me or keep critiquing my hairstyling?"
Leaning in, he places a tender kiss on your lips before his expression shifts, carrying a hint of solemnity. “I am sorry for everything that happened before though.”
“It’s fine. You already apologised. Besides, so am I.”
“You didn't do anything wrong.”
“I could’ve been more honest with you.”
“I should have been first. It’s because of me everything happened that way. If I’d been honest, you wouldn’t have been hurt in the process.”
Sighing softly, you grasp his chin with your thumb and forefinger. “But we’re here now, it happened for a reason. And honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.”
He smiles and nods. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
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6 months later.
“Finally!” Pushing the back of your earrings in, you step onto the landing. “We need to leave soon.”
Jungkook puts down his carry bag by the door, a wide grin on his face. “Are those the earrings I got you last week?”
You nod, smiling. “I’ve been so excited to wear them, they’re so perfect.”
“They’re perfect on you.” He kisses your cheek, still admiring you.
“Alright, I’ll be ready in 15 minutes.” Your dad steps in the front door, putting his own carry bag down next to Jungkook’s as he catches sight of you. “Oh, Y/N, dear, you look beautiful.”
“Thanks, dad,” you grin. “How was golf?”
“Your dad doesn’t like to lose, I’ll tell you that,” Jungkook chuckled, glancing at your dad with a playful smirk. “Although he almost beat me this time.”
“Almost being the operative word," your dad retorted with a grin, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.
“Yeah, He's definitely got some tricks up his sleeve.”
“Coming from you.” Your dad looks at Jungkook, definitely impressed. “You really surprised me today.”
Jungkook shrugs, a quirk to his lips. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” 
Their cryptic conversation goes unnoticed by you as you check you’ve got everything in your purse. “That’s fab, guys, now hurry up. We need to leave or Alex will never invite us to another party again.” 
“Alright, I’ll just put these away.” Jungkook picks up the carry bags while you rush back upstairs, having remembered to put perfume on. Watching you go, Jungkook feels a wave of nervous anticipation washing over him. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see your mom come through the kitchen.
“Ah, there’s my beautiful wife,” your dad beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
She smiles and turns to Jungkook. "Excited for tonight?" she whispers, her voice filled with barely contained excitement.
Jungkook’s heart skips a beat as he nods. “She still has no idea right?” 
“Not a clue.”
“Good.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re all gathered by the front door, ready to leave as your dad sets the alarm. You step out into the driveway, met by a gust of warm evening breeze. Looking at the horizon, the warm glow of the setting sun paints the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a serene ambiance and you feel a wave of contentment. 
Jungkook appears at your side, looking at you like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again. Smiling, you lean in and give him a kiss.
“What was that for?”
“I just love you… lots.”
Something in Jungkook’s expression shifts. “Me too.
Your hand finds his and your fingers intertwine. “Ready?”
Jungkook nods, thumb circling your bare ring finger, which, unbeknownst to you, will soon be holding the most perfect princess cut diamond as a promise of forever with him.
“Ready.”
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note. thank you for reading! i really hope you liked it! ✨ please share + let me know your thoughts <3 more fics coming soon ;)
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puckinghischier · 2 months
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Jersey Talk
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nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader
summary: reader finds herself engaging in a lot of jersey talk
notes: part 3 of my lil unnamed nico series!! i loved writing this part and hope you enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 also, i didn’t really proofread so ignore any mistakes. and just a disclaimer, i don’t claim to know everything there is to know about any of the players mentioned in my writing, so if there’s inaccuracies on timelines or personality traits, just ignore them and assume it’s for the plot 😌
p.s.!! i’m thinking about starting a tag list for this/any of my writing i post so if you want to be a part of that, let me know!!
part 1, part 2, part 4
[6.4k]
You absolutely love how foot travel friendly New Jersey is. Coming from an area where foot travel is virtually nonexistent, the change is a welcomed one. You appreciate being able to simply grab your favorite totes, your headphones, and make the fifteen-minute walk to the small corner store. Surely in the winter you’ll feel differently about the five-block trek, but hopefully you’ll have your car by then. For now, the comfortable Autumn air makes the walk enjoyable. The fresh air, the beautiful buildings, and the surprising friendliness of the strangers you pass on the street make you feel like you made the right decision in relocating your life to the garden state.
Luckily this grocery run was fairly light, only needing to pick up some essentials until one of the boys gives you a ride to the larger chain grocery store on one of their upcoming off days. You really just needed the ingredients to make dinner tonight, making good on your promise to be their personal shopper and occasional chef in exchange for a place to live. You even stopped in a small bakery about a block from your apartment and picked up a few assorted pastries for a sweet treat later, knowing how much Luke loves his dessert.
As you walk into the apartment, courtesy of your shiny new key Jack gave you last week, you see both him and Luke on the couch, each with one hand on an iPad held out so both could view the contents on the screen. You assume they’re watching game film, preparing for their game later in the week against the Rangers. Your assumption is confirmed when you hear the unmistakable sound of sticks slapping against pucks and ice coming from the iPad in question.
They’re both so engrossed in the game film on the screen that they have no clue that you’ve even walked through the door. You make your way to the kitchen to unload what’s in your hands, putting away what little groceries you bought. Once you’re finished in the kitchen, you make your way back out into the living room, wanting to catch up with your roommates on how their midday practice had gone. As you walk towards the living area, rounding the loveseat adjacent to the sectional where the boys sit, Luke catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye. His body jerks slightly, clearly startled until he notices its only you.
“Oh my god you just scared the shit out of me,” you hear him exhale, holding his hand to his chest.
You just chuckle as you see Jack whip his head up, confused as to what Luke was referring to until he saw you sitting down, tucking your feet up under your legs to get comfortable.
“When did you get home? Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asks, pausing the game film and sitting the iPad on the small coffee table in the center of the room.
“No, you two were just lost in hockey land when I came in. I went to the corner mart a few blocks down to get stuff to make dinner, then put it all away before coming in here. Thought I’d give you guys a few more minutes before I came in here and interrupted,” you replied, resting your chin on your hands that are placed on the arm of the loveseat.
“Well, you have our full attention now. What’s up?” Jack leans back into the couch once again, stretching his arms above his head.
“Just wanted to talk to my boys. See how practice went today. Figure out how you guys are going to fare against the Rags,” you throw in a small dig at their biggest rival team.
“The Rags? Since when do you participate in hockey talk?” Luke chimes into the conversation, laughing slightly at your attempt to assimilate into the world of hockey.
“Since I overheard a conversation at this cute little bakery down the street. While I was waiting in line there was a man in front of me with a Devils hat on and the guy working the counter was asking him about his thoughts on the game this week. He was talking about how much he wishes ‘the boys can pull their heads out of their asses and beat the damn Rags’ and I thought it was funny. Figured I should probably adopt the local vernacular if I want to fit in around here. You know, participate in the Jersey talk,” you recall with a shrug of your shoulders.
The two brothers let out a little chuckle at your story, amused at your attempt to insert yourself into their world. The two of them and Quinn taught you a lot about how hockey is played and the rules over the years, but their hope of you fully getting involved in all of the aspects of hockey and the fanbase quickly dissolved. They would sit and force you to watch reruns of games with them over the summer at the lake, and you would sit there and whine because of how badly you wanted to go out on the boat or drive the golf cart down to the local ice cream shop, not listening to a single word the trio would say to you. Once you made the decision to move in with the two youngest brothers, you figured you should probably put a little more effort into the whole hockey fan experience, considering you would likely be attending games on a regular basis.
“Well, we’ve been preparing for the Rags, so that old man in the bakery can rest easy knowing we’re working our asses off, which our heads aren’t in, by the way,” Jack speaks, correcting the stranger’s statement.
“Yeah, we’re doing really well, actually. We keep splitting the team up and forcing one half to mimic the Rangers and some of their techniques, so we’re actually getting really good at stopping them from getting the puck into our zone. Plus, our goalies are putting out some insane stops during practice, so I really think we’ve got this in the bag,” Luke adds, excited to showcase their hard work.
You’ve noticed that practices must have been hard for the boys this week. A lot of naps and ibuprofen consumed. You haven’t really seen much of them, if you’re being honest. They’re usually gone by the time you wake up in the mornings and so tired by the time they come home that they go straight to the couch or their bedrooms and fall asleep. By the time they wake up from their naps you’re usually already cooking dinner, at least getting to chat a bit while you cook. After finishing dinner they’re back to the couch, watching game film or heading back to the arena for various events and strategy meetings. They go to bed fairly early, considering all of their early morning starts, so evenings are usually spent in your room by yourself watching tv or catching up with your friends back home. You suppose you should get used to spending time by yourself, though, knowing you’ll be here by yourself more often than not during the season.
They had a game in Boston a few days prior, leaving you with your apartment to yourself for the first time in the two weeks you’ve lived with them. They were only gone for one night, but it was definitely lonely. You really haven’t been here long enough to have an abundance of people to call up anytime Jack and Luke were unavailable, so you had passed the time by exploring the area around your apartment complex a little, finding the perfect park to go sit at to soak up some much-needed sunshine. You couldn’t hide your excitement when the two brothers returned home the next evening, though. You got up from the couch and ran over to the door, ready to greet them and ask them all about the game (you had watched it on tv, but you really just wanted to talk to someone after a full day with no one’s company but your own), but you were greeted with tired eyes and frowns, despite their win the previous night. You simply gave each of them a hug and then sent them off to bed, knowing once they got some sleep they would be up for conversation.
This is why, right now, even though you have zero knowledge of what preparing for a rival hockey game consists of, you’re taking in every word the two have to offer about the subject. You’re just happy to have a few uninterrupted minutes to sit and talk with them.
“Good! That’s great! Really…good,” you say, giving a thumbs up and awkward smile after failing to come up with a better response to Luke’s statements.
Luke just laughs, appreciating your attempts at interest in their jobs.
“You’re coming to the game, right? We put back a ticket for you, but if you can’t make it that’s okay, too. Got you a pretty sick seat, though. Glass seat, right beside the net,” Jack reveals, raising his eyebrows a bit, as if trying to convince you.
“Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you exclaim, a little offended at the mere thought you’d skip out on such a big game for them.
“You won’t be disappointed, I swear. We’re gonna kick some major Rags ass,” Luke adds, excitement showing at the idea of you being in the crowd.
“The real question here shouldn’t be if I’m coming to the game or not. It’s whose jersey am I going to wear?” you throw out, poking fun at the two.
“Pshh, c’mon that one’s a no brainer. You’ll obviously wear mine, I’m your favorite,” Jack waves off your words, fully confident that you’ll agree with him.
“I don’t know, Rowdy. I feel like plenty of people will have 86 jerseys on. It is Moose’s rookie season, maybe I should wear his so he feels included.”
“Yeah, dickhead. You have a whole arena full of people wearing your number, she should wear mine. We all know it’s the better number anyways,” Luke retorts.
Jack rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to fire back an insult at Luke, but he’s cut off by a knock at the door. You look over at the two boys to see if they know who might be at the door, but both of their faces mirror your confused look. So much for your uninterrupted time with them.
“Did you guys invite someone over? Or should I be worried that there’s a murderer standing on the other side of our door right now,” you ask.
“Well first of all I don’t think a murderer would knock on the door. They would probably pick the lock or something. Isn’t the whole point of murdering someone to do it when they don’t see it coming?” Jack responds, standing up. “Second of all, it’s probably just Nico. I had mentioned watching game film together at practice earlier and he told me he’d see how he was feeling later. Kinda forgot about it, if I’m being honest, but this is around the time he wakes up from his post-practice nap.”
You sit up a little straighter when Jack mentions his teammate and captain. You hadn’t seen him since your first night in town about two weeks ago. You’d caught little bits of information about him in passing from both Jack and Luke, but tried to keep your questions about him to a minimum. The two of you were still practically strangers, not having had any reason to communicate after that night. You assume he’s been as busy as Jack and Luke, coming and going far more than you. Still, you’re surprised you haven’t even run into him once. You figure his captain duties keep him far busier than even Luke and Jack.
You hear the front door open and then two sets of voices making their way down the short hallway. You look over to see Nico in a hoodie and sweats, a hat hiding his long hair. You think back to that night at the bar when his hair was uncovered and he was having to push it out of his eyes for most of the night, wishing you could catch a glimpse of the brown locks right now. The two were continuing their short conversation from the door, so Nico had yet to acknowledge you or Luke yet. You look away, starting to pick at a loose thread on your socks, knowing you needed to avert your eyes before you were caught staring.
Unknown to you, Luke had already noticed your stare, observing how fixated you were on his captain. You look over to find Luke staring at you, an undecipherable expression on his face. You give him a puzzled look, as if to say ‘what?’ and he responds by simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a bit.
“Oh, hey you two. How’s it going?” Nico’s voice pulls you from your silent conversation with Luke, noticing Jack was no longer next to him.
“Hey, man. How was your nap? Your shoulder okay?” Luke asks him, adjusting his body slightly on the couch to make room for Nico to sit down.
You turn your head to look at Nico once again, a small hint of worry surfacing. He doesn’t look injured? His arm isn’t in a sling or anything, and he’s not holding it in pain. You watch as he sits down to see if even the smallest wince makes its way across his face as his back comes to rest against the plush cushions. If he’s in any sort of pain, he’s not letting it show in his actions.
“Yeah, perfectly fine. Don’t give yourself that much credit, kid. You don’t hit nearly as hard as you think you do,” Nico chuckles, taking his hand and tapping Luke on the knee a few times.
“Trying to hurt your captain before a huge game, Luke?” you speak for the first time since Nico entered the apartment. “Maybe I should wear Jack’s jersey on Saturday.”
“I knew it! See, my jersey is clearly the better choice, Moose. Sucks to suck, huh?” Jack interjects with a grin, walking from the direction of the kitchen, glass of water in hand.
“Now c’mon, Y/N, that isn’t even fair. It was an accident!” Luke cries out. “We were running drills and I was trying to stop, but I misjudged and ran into Nico. He didn’t even hit the glass that hard, you heard him!”he argues, looking between you and his brother.
“All I’m saying is, it won’t look good if the rookie is the reason the captain can’t play against public enemy number one. Then you’ll become public enemy number one, and I can’t be caught at a game wearing the new public enemy’s jersey. I’m already a newcomer, I can’t tarnish my reputation this early,” you hold your hands up in defense.
“What have I just walked into?” Nico asks, eyes darting between the three of you.
“Well, right before you walked in, we were talking about which jersey Y/N was going to wear to the game on Saturday. I told her the obvious choice was mine, but she decided to spew some bullshit about there being too many 86 jerseys already, so she should wear Luke’s since he’s new and needs to feel included,” Jack uses finger quotes around the last part of his sentence.
“Well, she has a point.”
“See! Even Cap thinks so! That’s it, you’re wearing my jersey, Y/N. Cap’s word is final,” Luke leans back, taking in his assumed victory.
Your mind wanders back to Nico’s words he spoke to you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, wondering if Luke’s statement includes those words, too.
“Maybe I should be fair and not wear either jersey. Just go down the roster and pick a random name and then buy it,” you joke, watching the brothers widen their eyes like you just told them you ran over their childhood pet.
“That’s…not even funny. How dare you even joke about something so important,” Jack stares at you, seriousness painted on his features.
“C’mon, Y/N, that’s just…that’s just cruel,” Luke emphasizes the last word dramatically.
“I think you should do it. In fact, I have a spare jersey I think you can wear,” Nico adds, looking at you with mischievous eyes.
“Oh, well that actually sounds lovely, Nico, thank you! What better way to show my support at my first Devils game than sporting the captain’s jersey?”
Jack and Luke both turn their heads to glare at their captain sitting between them. If looks could kill, the poor Swiss man would be six feet under right now. The Hughes brothers don’t play around when it comes to their jerseys. You remember when you had gone to one of Luke’s games while he was playing for Michigan, wanting to buy a Michigan jersey in support, but the gift shop had run out of Luke’s number once he announced his contract with the Devils. You knew you could have simply asked him for a jersey, knowing he had several lying around his dorm room, but the trip was supposed to be a surprise.
You were forced to buy a random jersey with some lesser known last name on it, because you still wanted to show up in Michigan attire. You don’t even remember whose name and number it was, but you remember the look on Luke’s face when he saw you during warm ups, going from pure joy to disgust in seconds. He skated off, going to the locker room briefly before returning with a yellow Jersey that he then threw over the glass to your seat, motioning for you to put it on. You just laughed and did as you were told. You’ve had similar arguments with both Jack and Quinn over threatening to wear a teammates jersey over the years, but you just like to poke fun at how protective the three are over you. Jack explained to you that they want you to wear their jersey’s because it shows their teammates that you’re to be left alone, knowing the reputations of their fellow players.
“Cap, please don’t make me kick you out of this apartment right now,” Jack looks at Nico with complete seriousness.
“Maybe I need to work on my body checks in practice tomorrow, Cap,” Luke tries to threaten.
Nico simply laughs, shaking his head at the sudden unity between the two bickering brothers.
“Alright, chill out you two, all jokes. Unless…” You trail off, standing up.
“No, no unless. You’re wearing one of our jerseys, preferably mine. Hey! Where are you going, this is serious!” Jack yells after you as you walk towards the kitchen.
“Unless you want to starve tonight, someone has to start making dinner. Plus, I have some jersey shopping to do,” you say, hearing Nico’s laughter ringing out once more as you enter the kitchen.
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“Hey, Nico! Are you staying for dinner? I need to know how much pasta to make!” you shout from your spot by the stove, having just sat down a large pot of water on the hot eye.
You walk over to the cabinet to grab the box of pasta and a couple jars of sauce, waiting for an answer from the living room. You decided to go with just simple spaghetti and salad tonight, not really in the mood for having to prep a ton of food and spend an hour and a half cooking. Jack will probably complain about the amount of carbs he’s consuming, but he’ll get over it. As if he doesn’t burn enough calories from practice and his personal workouts he does on a daily basis. Luke will just be happy to have something that isn’t chicken, seeing as that’s all you made for the first few days of your new living arrangement, trying to stick to the meal plan Jack had the nutritionist send you.
After the third night of some form of chicken and vegetables, Luke was quick to inform you that no one on the team follows the meal plan so strictly. You also learned that Jack is going through some phase of eating nothing but chicken or steak and brown rice, Luke revealing that’s what the two mostly lived on during the weeks leading up to your move. You had told Luke he should learn to cook for himself, and then he wouldn’t be forced to eat what Jack or you decide to make if he doesn’t like it, but he had rolled his eyes and told you “this was the agreement, right? We won’t let you pay rent, so you told us you would contribute by cooking. So really, I’m just helping you fulfill your roommate duties.”
You still don’t have an answer from the three in the living room. You figure they’re too busy with game film to hear you, so you decide to just make enough for Nico, too. You can always pack up the leftovers and have them for lunch the next few days if needed. You dump what you think to be the proper amount of pasta for four people into the pot once it reaches a boil, then work on pouring the sauce into a pan to let it heat up. You cheated on the salad, too, deciding to just buy two bags of salad mix, dumping the bag into a large bowl and adding the small packets of toppings. You’ve just dumped the now done pasta into the colander in the sink, turning to put the pot back onto the stove to cool off a bit when a voice causes you to nearly drop the hot pot in your hands.
“It smells delicious in here,” Nico announces his presence, walking through the doorway towards the fridge.
You settle yourself before setting the pot down safely on the stovetop before speaking. “You know, I really need to get on ordering those squeaky shoes if I want to avoid a heart attack by 25.”
Turning your body, you see Nico hunched over looking in the fridge, arm reaching towards a water bottle before raising up, flashing you a smile.
“Nah, even if you buy them I wouldn’t wear them. This is like, our thing now. Me sneaking up on you, you getting mad, me getting a good laugh out of it,” he stands back at his full height now.
“How comforting that you find enjoyment out of my jumpiness. Such an admirable trait to have,” you grumble, taking the pasta from the sink and transfer it into the pan filled with sauce. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, seeing as it looks like I made enough to feed the entire team, but I think I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself. See how funny that is.”
This earns another laugh, Nico moving to lean against the counter opposite of you, watching you try to combine the sauce and the pasta without making a giant mess.
“Why don’t you just put it back in the pot you cooked the pasta in. You’ll be able to mix it easier.”
“Because apparently that would have been too easy,” you step back and huff, wondering why you didn’t think of that before you created an overflowing mess of sauce and noodles.
Nico makes his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to move you out of the way. He picks up the pan and dumps the contents into the pot sitting next to it, not spilling a single drop.
“There, now you can mix it easier and it won’t spill out over the sides and cause an even bigger mess,” he states, placing the dirty pan in the sink behind you.
“Okay, captain chef, next time you’re cooking dinner, since you clearly have more kitchen skills than me,” you tell him, making your way across the kitchen to collect plates to sit on the table.
Nico just chuckles as he watches you grab the plates, sitting one in front of each chair around the small dining table that sits in the kitchen.
“It smells so good in here, please tell me its almost done,” Jack enters the kitchen, Luke trailing behind him.
“It is, just finished actually,” you look up, Nico carrying the pot of steaming pasta from the stove to the table, careful not to drop it.
“Rowdy, grab the salad over there by the sink for me while I grab some forks for everyone,” you move towards the silverware drawer, walking around the Swiss man in your kitchen, having to turn your body slightly as he steps back from the table.
“Well, I better get going, my leftovers aren’t going to heat themselves up,” Nico announces, starting to make his way out of the kitchen.
“Cap, are you crazy? Do you not see how much food Bouy made?” Jack places the bowl of salad next to the pot of pasta, taking his seat at the table.
“Jack, I’m being so serious right now, if you keep using that stupid nickname for me I will sneak laxatives into your protein shakes.” You take the seat across from Jack, Luke falling into the seat to your left.
“Well, as long as it’s okay with Bouy, I’d love to stay.” Nico walks back over to the table, taking the seat next to Jack, smirking while avoiding eye contact with you.
“I know where you live, so the threat extends to you too, Cap” you glare at Nico.
The rest of the meal is mostly filled with talk between the three hockey players, you chiming in here and there, until Jack shifts the topic of conversation to you.
“So, what’s the update with your new job? You have everything lined up and ready to go?”
“Yeah, talked to them earlier today, actually. They said they’d have my office ready in about a week, so I should be starting not long after that.” You shrug, not wanting to bore them with the details of the corporate scene in New Jersey.
“Where are you going to be working?” Nico asks, genuine interest present in his tone, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
“I got offered a position with a small publishing company not too far from here, actually. Mostly independent, up and coming authors, but still exciting,” you reveal, perking up a bit at the opportunity to talk about your passion.
“Was super worried I wasn’t going to be able to use my degree after college, seeing as the market for English lit degrees isn’t too wide unless you want to teach. At least, that’s how it is back home. After I graduated and Jack offered the spare room here, I applied to a few positions here in Jersey and a few in New York, willing to make the commute if needed. Only heard back from one place, though. And it just so happened to be a thirty-minute drive from here, so I accepted and started packing,” you explained.
“It was meant to be. The gang back together once again,” Jack beams.
“Well, the gang minus Quinn. The fucker just had to end up in Vancouver of all places,” Luke grumbles, still upset the oldest Hughes is so far away.
“Lucky for us I can work remotely if I ever need or want to, so this summer at the lake we can all be together again,” you try to cheer Luke up, knowing how much he wishes the three brothers could have played on the same team while making their dreams come true.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack celebrates. “This is going to be the best summer at the lake house yet. We’re all grown, most of us legal drinking age, but don’t worry, we won’t tell if you won’t, Lukey,” Jack winks over at Luke, knowing the underage drinking rule has never really applied in the sacred space of the lake houses, “and we’ll all finally be there together again after, what, like 6 years?”
“It’s been awhile, at least that long,” you try to think back to the last time everyone was there together.
It was the summer before Quinn got drafted. Quinn had signed to play hockey at Michigan a few months before everyone was set to arrive at the summer oasis. You remember being so proud of him. You couldn’t wait to finally see him and congratulate him in person, knowing how hard he had worked for it. You figured things would stay the same for a few more years, expecting him to come home every summer for the next four years before moving on to the NHL. You had no clue that he would be drafted only a summer later and that it would be the beginning of the end for the summers of fun at the lake house.
“Nico, you should come up this summer! It’s always such a good time!” Jack pulls you from your reminiscing.
“I mean, maybe. I’ve been talking to my parents about flying home during the off season this year, since I didn’t make it over there last year. But I could probably come for a few days, at least,” he shrugs his shoulders.
You try to picture Nico at the lake house, hat covering his hair, swim trunks and a t-shirt covering his body. You picture him lounging on the boat in the sun while Jack takes everyone out for a midday ride, finding a secluded spot somewhere on the lake to stop and swim for a while. You picture him trying to wake surf, wondering if he’d be instantly good at it or if he would end up wiping out in the water. You picture him sitting around the fire at night, a light hoodie on to the mask the chill that never fails to make an appearance on Michigan summer nights, the glow from the fire illuminating his face just enough for you to admire him. You picture him with a slight sunburn on his nose, tan skin glowing from being in the sun so often.
You must have been lost in your thoughts for longer than you realized, because you came back to the conversation with several calls of your name from the seat next to you.
“Are you even listening to us anymore? Or do you really not want Cap coming to the lake house?” Luke looks over at you, slightly waving his hand in front of your face.
“What? No,” you say, looking around at the expectant faces surrounding you. “I mean, no I don’t care if he comes. It would be fun, yeah. If he can make it, of course. You heard him, I’m sure he’s excited to see his family.”
“I’m sure I can work something out. Have the best of both worlds. These two have talked about the infamous lake house so much I’m curious to see if it really lives up to all the hype,” Nico leans back, nodding his head towards both Jack and Luke.
“Then its settled! Cap is coming to Michigan this summer!” Jack cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration.
You laugh in response to Jack’s excitement, noticing that everyone seems to be done eating, plates clean and glasses empty. You stand up and start to take some of the dishes to the sink, setting them in there before walking back over to the table.
“Since you’re in such a good mood, I think now would be the best time to tell you that you and Luke have dish duty tonight.” You clear the last of the dishes off the table.
You watch Jack’s face fall, while Luke’s does a sharp turn in your direction. You turn your back to them to walk back over to the counter, opening the cabinet below you to find Tupperware to store the leftovers in.
“On that note, I better get going. Have some laundry I need to get done before practice in the morning,” Nico stands, bringing over a few stray pieces of silverware you seemed to have missed.
“Oh, no you don’t, Cap. You heard her, she cooked, we clean,” Jack turns to look at his captain as he makes his way to the sink.
“No, I said you and Luke have dish duty tonight. Nico’s name was never mentioned. Guests don’t do the dishes, Jack. I know Ellen raised you better than that.”
“Nico is hardly a guest. He’s over here all the time!” Luke chimes in, opening one of the drawers by the sink, grabbing a towel to dry dishes with.
“He doesn’t pay any rent for the apartment, therefore he’s a guest. Just accept your fate, you two. You’ll survive, I promise.” You hand the pot you just emptied to Jack, taking the food in your hands to the fridge a few steps away.
“You don’t pay any rent, and you’re not a guest,” Jack mumbles, hands covered in soapy suds.
“Exactly! That means I don’t do the dishes, either. I knew you’d catch on eventually! And they say you’re just a pretty face,” you shut the fridge door, looking over at Jack with an amused grin.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jack whines.
“C’mon, man, you walked right into that one,” Nico adds, laughing at his teammate.
Jack glares at the taller man. “I thought you said you were leaving, that you had laundry to do or some shit.”
“I am, I am,” Nico throws his hands up in defense.
“I’ll walk you out, Nico. Leave the children to pout while doing their chores,” you jest, walking toward the kitchen’s exit.
“Thanks for dinner, Y/N. Ten times better than whatever I would’ve found in my fridge,” Nico says as you pass through the living room.
“Anytime, Cap,” you use his title, blaming Jack and Luke for the new habit. “After all, I owed you for rescuing me from sleeping in the hallway.”
This earns another one of those laughs you love to hear fall from his mouth, smiling to yourself as he follows you down the small hallway towards the front door.
“I feel like you definitely had to put in more effort on your end of that deal,” he steps through the door you’re holding open.
“I’ll just wait until you owe me a favor, then I’ll make sure to cash in some extravagant request,” you joke, leaning against the door as he stands in the hallway.
“I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”
Nico takes his apartment key from his pocket and unlocks his door, opening it and stepping inside, turning around to face you once again, his stance mirroring your own in his own doorway.
“So, I’ll see you at the game on Saturday, then?” He stalls a goodbye.
“Yep, I’ll be there. Still deciding which brother I’m going to piss off,” you reference the earlier argument over whose jersey you’ll wear.
“Oh, that reminds me-“ Nico says before propping his door open, leaving you alone in your doorway, confused as to where he could’ve gone.
After about a minute of you standing there, wondering if he was going to come back, he returns, holding a red jersey in his hand.
“Here, figured there’s no sense in you going out and buying one if you really wanted to mess with their heads.”
He hands you the jersey, stepping back into his doorway. You unfold the jersey and notice the big black C on the upper left corner of the jersey. It was a solid red jersey, the team’s symbol in the middle, two black stripes on the forearms of each sleeve, more black accents on the shoulders of the jersey. You look up at him, a little surprised.
“I- I can’t take one of your jerseys, Nico. What if I mess it up, or spill something on it? I’ll just wear one of the ones I have. This looks too nice to risk it,” you attempt to hand the jersey back across the hallway.
“No, I insist. I think it’ll be fun to mess around with them a little. Especially Jack, since he seemed so convinced you were going to wear his. They’ll never even see it coming,” Nico refuses.
You run the idea through your head for a second, thinking about how it would be a funny little dig at the boys. You also think about the implications of wearing a jersey that doesn’t belong to one of Hughes brothers. It’s harmless, though, right? Nico said it was just a fun way to get under their skin. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Y/N’ you think to yourself, trying to kick your habit of creative narratives in your head.
“Okay, but if I end up getting kicked out of my apartment I’m knocking on your door to sleep on your couch,” you finally agree.
“My door’s always open for you.”
You look back down to the jersey in your hands to hide the blush that appears on your face at his words. You know you’ve only known him for a short period of time, tonight being the first real chunk of time you’ve spent in his presence, but Nico is making it really hard for you to keep your feelings for him casual. You’ve always had a habit of getting a case of the heart eyes fast, but you’re trying to be normal, for once.
He’s likely just being his normal, personable self and you’re letting every smile and joke go to your head, placing more meaning on them than is warranted. There’s just something about him, though. He’s extremely attractive, for one. But it’s more than that. From all that you’ve learned about him through Jack and Luke, and the easy conversation that has flowed between the two of you from the moment you first spoke to him in the hallway, you can’t lie to yourself and say you’re not drawn to the Swiss captain.
Your mind circles back to the idea of wearing his jersey this weekend and what Jack and Luke will think. What if you seriously hurt their feelings? What if it affects how they play because they’re mad at you? What if they ignore you the whole game? You know the two brothers love you, but you also know how petty they can both be when mad.
“Stop overthinking it. I can see you getting lost up in that head of yours. It’s a harmless joke. They’re not going to freak out on the ice or anything. And if they do, I’m in more danger than you are,” Nico reassures you, pulling you from your thoughts.
“You better at least score a goal if I’m risking being homeless for you,” you tell him, looking back up at his face.
“How about I do you one better. If you promise to wear my jersey, I’ll score a hatty for your first ever New Jersey Devils hockey experience,” Nico offers, his eyes flashing with something you assume is delight at a challenge.
“Well then you better work on your slapshot tomorrow morning, Captain. I’ll be holding you to that Saturday night,” you take the bait, knowing how difficult a hat trick is to pull off.
“No need, I know I’ll have the right motivation night of to get it done,” he winks at you, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. “And if I don’t, consider it your IOU for that extravagant request you might need one day,” He responds, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, the nonchalance of his body language making you hope for his failure, just so you can think of some ridiculous task for him to perform.
“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll get right to brainstorming,” you respond, trying to prevent your thoughts from spiraling yet again.
Nico lets out a small laugh, standing up straight and placing his hand on the handle of his door. “Think hard. Let me know what you come up with. Have a good night, Bouy, see you Saturday.” He shuts the door before you can berate him for using the nickname you hate.
You walk back into your apartment, door shutting behind you, going straight to your room to hide the jersey before either of the boys see it. You think back on the entire interaction, a smile on your face at the possibility of being able to have Nico do anything you ask him. As you’re walking past the kitchen you hear Jack’s voice.
“Luke, am I stupid or did Y/N call me stupid earlier?” he recalls your earlier comment about him being ‘just a pretty face’.
“Think about how you worded the first part of your question and you’ll have your answer,” you hear Luke respond as you make it past the kitchen unnoticed, making you stifle a giggle so you won’t be discovered.
Oh how you loved being back with your boys.
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