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#i know the history of the word but it makes me personally uncomfortable and i made a vent post about it stop trying to lure me into the
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very cool that u seem to think women oppress men. misandry isnt real and youre 2 steps away from becoming a full on terf btw
lol i see why ur on anon because this is one of the dumbest asks ive ever received
so first of all you very clearly dont know what a terf is, you can't just call someone a terf because you disagree with them. I'm TRANS. i never said women oppress men and i dont believe they do anyways. (my actual opinion on that is a little more nuanced but im not getting into that right now with this schmuck) yknow because I used to be one of those?
doubly so because usually terfs are the ones who say misandry isnt real so if i supposedly think its real... how am I a terf? sounds like its YOU that's way closer to it than i am.
look up lateral violence, that might clear up some things for you. trans men experience different kinds of oppression and transphobia than trans women do, and that isn't misogynistic, transphobic, or transmisogynistic to say, that's just a fact. it's a little bit sad that not even trans women are by our goddamn side when terfs and transphobes already think we are both freaks.
also get off anon and stand by your words, i cant take you seriously like this, you coward
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dorothygale · 2 years
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i am instantly put off reblogging any post that broadly calls people "queers".. like not even "queer people" you go with "queers"? and before anyone starts clowning i'm not a terf & i'm not trying to tell anyone how to identify or whatever, i just think applying something like that universally by default is peak lefty bubble behavior
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babydollmarauders · 17 days
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PHASES — LUKE HUGHES
luke hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which luke is pining for the girl he knows he’s destined to be with
notes: 4.3k words. this is a new style of writing for me and i truthfully don’t know about it but it felt right for this fic.
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Luke Hughes knows a lot of things.
he knows hockey. he knows history. and he knows that in this moment, drunk on cheap beer and lip locked with the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, she and he are destined to be together.
but life and love are never simple. drunken hookups between best friends don’t just automatically make them a couple. and no matter how badly he wants to scream that she should be with him, he knows he has to wait it out; give her time to come to the same realization that he did two years ago.
her back digs into the armrest of the battered couch, her legs draped across Luke’s own as his fingertips grip her upper thigh. their faces are drawn together, her hands tangled beautifully in his curls, pulling him closer toward her vodka soaked lips.
“Lukey,” his name rolls off her tongue like a whispered prayer, causing a singular beat to skip in his heart.
“what do you need, doll?”
“you.”
and her singular word is the driving force that brings Luke to his feet, her hand laced with his as he leads her to his bedroom. the people in his apartment cast away from his mind, only one person occupying that space.
her.
surely, Jack can handle the party that he threw, no one would miss Luke.
and that thought is what leads them to his room, their bodies pressed together in mere minutes. the next few hours spent tangled between cotton sheets. his feverish touch making her body shake, and her soft sounds causing an intense sensation of need within him.
hot breath mingles, their lips rarely straying from each others. sweat coated skin sticking together as they christen his bed for the umpteenth time. neither mind clear, they find solace and pleasure with her legs wrapped around his waist and his sloppy thrusts bringing them to the highest points.
and when they call it a night, Luke’s hand slamming the car door shut after she falls into the backseat of an uber, he falls back into the same spot he started the night.
waiting for fate to bring her home to him for the final time.
***
the restaurant feels suffocating, her dress itchy, causing her to wiggle uncomfortably in her chair.
her date doesn’t even seem to notice, rambling on once more about how cool it is that she works for the New Jersey Devils.
“i mean, you must get to be around the players all the time, right? how did you even get that job?” what was this one’s name? Carter? Carson? it started with a C, right?
“i went to University of Michigan. graduated a year early with a degree in sport management, and after working with the hockey team there, i was able to secure a spot working for the Devils.” she smiles, a weak timid thing that barely even reaches her cheeks, “but yeah, i do spend a lot of time around the players. kinda my job to get content of them, ya know?”
maybe-Carter chuckles, nodding his head, “so are you like, friends with any of them?”
‘oh, here we go’ she thinks.
“i went to school with Luke Hughes, he’s kind of my best friend.” it was an instinct really, an involuntary reaction; for a smile to creep across her lips when she talks about Luke, “but i can’t really say much about him or the guys, they’re people too and they deserve their privacy.”
“right, totally respect that,” he nods, his lips falling into a tight line, and she can’t help but notice that they aren’t as pillowy as Luke’s.
his lips don’t nearly look as comforting to kiss. and his curls; they don’t… curl the way Luke’s do. rather he has a head of tighter curls, unlike Luke’s unruly mess of loose curls and waves mingling together. his eyes aren’t the right color either, erring on the side of a blue closer to Jack’s; which makes a shiver run down her spine, discomfort settling within her.
“are you cold?” he asks, catching sight of the goosebumps that spread across her skin. he huffs a condescendingly toned laugh before continuing, “maybe you should’ve brought a jacket, restaurants run cold.”
that was where she drew the line. with his obnoxious attitude combined with his interest, which only peaked when discussing her job, y/n was surprised she lasted as long as she did.
and if the fact that he wasn’t similar enough to her best friend played a small part in her leaving? well, could she really be blamed?
after all, it was Luke’s fault.
it was Luke who made the first move his freshman year of college, both of them tipsy on drinks made by Dylan and his heavy hand with rum. it was Luke who made the sophomore girl fall for him two years ago. it was Luke who drunkenly tells her he loves her as he buries himself inside of her, knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge. and it was Luke who has her going on at least five dates a month, trying to force the Devils rookie out of her heart.
or at least, she blames it on Luke; because she couldn’t allow herself to admit that she fell in love with him of her own accord. she can’t allow herself to confess how quickly their drunken hookups turned into something more for her. and she certainly can’t dwell on the fact that she hasn’t put a stop to them. how could she? those are the only moments that she can let herself believe, even for a moment, that she could be his.
because despite how badly she wanted it, she could never be Luke’s. not in the way she wants to be. no matter how hard she tries, she can never find the words to express how much he means to her. how much she loves him.
*
Luke laid on the couch, the springs digging into his back uncomfortably.
“dude, we really need a new couch.” he huffs, “and why am i laying like this? i don’t think people actually lay down in therapy outside of tv shows.”
“shut up, i’m taking notes.” Luke’s eyes drift to his older brother, who occupies the space of the living room chair.
“notes on what? i haven’t even said anything!”
“you don’t need to. i’ve listened to you bitch and moan about y/n for two years, i’m writing what i can remember.” Jack explains, his brows furrowed in focus as his pen scribbles messily across the notepad on his lap.
“why did i let you talk me into this?” Luke rolls his eyes at his brothers antics.
“because you’re pussy-whipped and you’re playing like shit.” Jack looks up from the notepad, straightening his posture and settling his focus on Luke.
“is that a medical diagnosis?” Luke jokes, his brow raising as he chuckles.
“no, that’s brotherly criticism. you get that for free, courtesy of the nine months we each spent in mom’s womb.” Luke cringes at his brothers words, shaking his head.
“don’t talk about mom’s womb.”
“just speak, dude. what’s going on in that curly head of yours?”
Luke sighs, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. his hands fiddle with the cellphone that lays on his stomach, impatiently waiting for the text that he knows will come through.
it’s 10pm on an off day, he knows she’s got a date tonight. he also knows how her date will end; soon enough she’ll be texting him a long paragraph about how men suck and asking him to remind her why she can’t become a nun.
“well, i told you, i know she and i are meant to be together. i can feel it.” Luke starts, quickly cut off by the familiar grating voice he’s known his entire life.
“yeah, yeah, you’re a simp. move on.”
“has anyone ever told you that you’d make a horrible therapist?” Luke questions, head turning once more toward his brother.
“i can’t say anyone has, no.”
“yeah? well then, i’ll be the first.” he glares, “stick to hockey.”
“just keep talking, Lukey.”
“i think it’s getting harder to wait for her.” Luke confesses, and it feels like a small weight has been lifted off his chest; progress.
“so you wanna move on?” Jack asks, his pen scrawling along the paper again.
“no!” Luke huffs, sitting up on the couch to turn towards his brother, who quickly strikes out whatever he just wrote down, “i’m just saying that- that this whole waiting game is fucking with my head. Phil said i had to wait it out. he told me not to pressure her. practice my patience and let her come to the realization on her own.
“but, what if it goes on too long? she’s always going on dates, what if she meets someone else? what if it takes her ten years to realize what i realized like a month after we met?! what if she gets married before she realizes?”
“too many ‘what if’s’, dude. you’re hurting my brain.” Jack groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Luke, already in an emotional spiral, rolls his eyes, “what brain?”
“hey! i’m trying to help you here! don’t insult me!” Jack stands up, notepad falling to the floor and his hands drawing to his hips as he glares at the rookie defenseman.
“well you’re not much help.”
“you want my advice? either keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.”
“i’m going to bed.” Luke grumbles, pushing past the shorter man to go to his room.
“don’t forget, no morning skate tomorrow!” Jack calls out as Luke’s door clicks shut.
as Luke strips down to his boxers, his phone lights up on his bed, vibrating amongst the cotton sheets. and as he sees her name flashing on the screen, butterflies flutter in his core, making him swallow harshly in attempt to stop them.
he doesn’t even get a word out after accepting the call, her voice filtering through the speaker, “men suck.”
“oh yeah?” Luke can’t help but laugh at the repetitive cycle, “tell me more. how do we suck?”
“you just do, okay?” her tone is biting before she takes a sobering breath, “all he wanted to talk about was the team. i could practically see the walls shut down around him once i told him i couldn’t dish out the hot goss on players.”
“i’m sorry, y/n.” he’s not sorry. not even a little.
“remind me why i can’t be a nun?” her voice is distant as she takes the phone away from her ear so that she can unlock her apartment door.
“no tiktok and no sex.” Luke echoes for what feels like the hundredth time.
“right.” she kicks off her shoes, bumping the door shut behind her as her cat darts around between her legs, rubbing against her nylon tights, “you ready for the game tomorrow?”
“yeah.” no.
“good. i’m gonna go eat my weight in ice cream and scroll tiktok. goodnight, Lukey. thanks for the reminder and for listening to me rant.”
“any time. goodnight.”
as Luke lays in bed, he falls asleep with Jack’s advice echoing in his head.
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
meanwhile, y/n slumps on her sofa, a pint of ben & jerry’s in her hand as she looks down at the little ball of black fur that’s taken up residence by her feet.
“have you ever been in love, Sir Nightingale?”
the cat blinks back at her, patiently waiting for her attention. which comes in the form of her fingernails scratching lazily under his chin.
“i have.” she continues the one sided conversation, “it fucking sucks. never fall in love.”
***
the game was an absolute shit show.
Luke had taken a shoddy penalty in the first period; for delay of game, out of all things. which lead to a power play goal by the opposing team and leaving the Devils down by two.
it was only about five minutes later that Luke got an assist on a goal of Jack’s, but ultimately, the game still ended six to two, not in the Devils favor. not only did the team get yelled at for their lack of adequate effort, but Luke was singled out for at least two turned over pucks, which lead to opposing team goals.
and to make a bad night even worse, when all was said and done and Luke was finally showered and ready to just go home and wallow in the loss, he left the locker room to find y/n chatting with one of the equipment managers, Ben.
her hair twirled around her finger as she laughed at something Ben said, a red flush on her cheeks. Luke felt deflated, to say the least.
it was always someone else.
never him. never Luke.
he felt overlooked, and perhaps even unnoticed. it was like she never even saw him as an option, only ever the object of her desires when they were both tipsy and horny and already together.
and yet the feeling was still there. settled low within his gut, he still knew; he’s the one for her. he knows. he’s fairly certain that deep down, she knows it too.
is it his age? it’s only a year’s difference, surely it doesn’t matter, right? it was something else. it had to be, but he truly didn’t know what.
“y/n.” his voice carries through the hallway, settling in her ears and catching her attention.
turning towards him with wide doe eyes and parted lips, she smiles, “hey!”
“am i still giving you a ride home?” Luke’s expression is stony, giving nothing of his feelings away. though, he can’t help the way his eyes gravitate to the man behind her, Luke’s blank stare making the man cower just slightly.
and Luke almost felt proud of that. almost.
“actually, i think Ben and i are gonna go for some drinks. i’ll catch up with you tomorrow, yeah?”
his shoulders slump, his posture crumpling the same way his heart did in his chest.
“yeah, see you tomorrow.”
Luke barely gets two steps closer to the arena exit before her voice calls out, stopping him in his tracks. her heels click against the floor as fast as she could move, before she pops up in his vision.
“you played good. a few mistakes are normal, it’s your first full season, the most games you’ve ever played,” her voice is gentle, her eyes peering up at him softly through her wispy lashes, “i’m proud of you. don’t be too hard on yourself, alright?”
her arms wrap around his torso before he can even respond, her face buried in the chest of his suit. and before his heart can reach a normal pace again, before he can wrap his arms around her in return, she’s pulling away.
with a wave of her hand and a small but awe-strikingly beautiful smile playing upon her lips, she’s walking away. back to Ben, who waits for her by the arena exit now.
and once more, Jack’s voice is back inside Luke’s head. driving him absolutely insane as he watches the love of his life walk out of the building, giggling at something another man said.
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
*
keep waiting and playing like shit and making easily avoidable mistakes, or say fuck it to your friends advice and tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
tell her how you feel.
“tell her how you feel.” Luke wakes with a startle, his head knocking against his brother’s, who was leaning over him.
Jack curses, hissing in pain as he holds a hand his forehead.
“what the fuck are you doing in my room?” Luke groans, voice groggy as he takes in his surroundings.
“i got up to take a piss and i could hear your phone blowing up all the way from the bathroom,” Jack explains, “shit, you have a bony ass head.”
“it’s called a skull. i know yours doesn’t house anything inside of it, but even i assumed you’d know what it is.”
Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “ya know what? just for that, i take back my advice. fuck off and die alone, what do i care?”
“why were you giving me advice at-” Luke slides his phone off his nightstand, checking the time, “two in the morning?”
“she’s blowing up your phone.” Jack scowls, “something something men suck something something maybe being a nun is worth the no tiktok?”
Luke feels an odd sense of relief as he looks at his recent texts, finding exactly what Jack had described.
well, without the ‘something something’s.
“pretty sure you were saying her name in your sleep too,” Jack smirks, backing away towards the bedroom door, “tell her how you feel, dickhead. put you both out of your misery so i can get some sleep and not listen to your incessant whining.”
with that, Jack leaves, the wooden door clicking shut in its frame behind him.
reading through the texts, Luke gathers that she and Ben didn’t get very far into the night together, seeing as her messages were still legible, something drunk her could never accomplish.
the thought brings him an unnecessary amount of joy. but then he’s hit with an overwhelming sense of annoyance, remembering he’ll have to go through this process all over again soon.
truthfully, he doesn’t know how much more he can take. he’s not giving up on her, on the contrary, maybe Jack is right. maybe Phil couldn’t give advice for all women and maybe Luke should just stop waiting.
she wasn’t coming to a realization quick enough and honestly, Luke is fucking tired. tired of drunken hookups. tired of listening to her rant about failed dates and sucky guys. tired of being overlooked as an option. tired of his feelings going unnoticed.
the dial tone was ringing in his ear before Luke even realized that he had made a decision, like his hands were working on autopilot. like his heart knew what he would decide before his brain did.
“hey! did i wake you?” her words weren’t slurred, Luke noted. that’s good, she doesn’t even sound tipsy. she’s in a sound state of mind for his confession.
“no,” he shook his head, despite knowing she could see him, “well, yes but no? you didn’t wake me up but Jack did, he could hear my phone buzzing.”
“oh shit, i’m sorry! we can talk tomorrow if you wanna go back to sleep, i’m just about to-”
“i love you,” immediately, Luke is regretting this decision; the silence on the other end of the phone making him bite his lip in anxiety.
“what?” her voice cracks as she giggles, “Luke, are you drunk? did you drink before you went to bed?”
“no,” he groans out, his head dropping back in frustration, “i swear, i haven’t touched any alcohol tonight. just listen to me.”
“i’m always listening to you, Lukey.” her eyes widen as she sits on the edge of her plush bed, “i just don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“i love you,” he repeats, rolling his shoulders in attempt to psych himself back up before he takes a deep breath.
“i’m in love with you. i have been since freshman year. i think that somewhere deep down, you know just as much as i do, that you’re meant to be mine. and i’ve waited two years for you to realize it. i’ve been patient, i’ve held back, i’ve waited on the sidelines while you go out on dates and i’ve listened to you rant about men. and that’s no problem; when i’m done, if you decide you’re still not ready, i’ll continue to wait for you. because even if you’re not mine, i’m yours, y/n. but, i need to get this off my chest and i need you to know that i’m in love with you. my life isn’t complete without yours. and when you’re ready, i’ll be here waiting for you. i’ll always be here. when you’re ready for the drunk hookups to turn into sober love, i’m gonna be right here. because i think that’s our fate. i think that we were destined to find each other and i think we were meant to have this storyline in our love story, and i know that one day you’ll realize it too. you can tell me i’m insane, you can tell me you don’t feel the same, you can even tell me to fuck off, if that’s what you wanna do. i’ll back off, i won’t say another word, but i’ll still be waiting.”
y/n is silent, her hands shaking as she breathes through the tears that roll down her cheeks. in return, Luke is quiet too, patiently waiting for her to digest everything he just confessed. every built up feeling that he just let slip out of him.
“i love you too.” it feels like all the weight she’s been shouldering has been listed off of her with the utterance of those four simple words.
“you do?” he feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s just been knocked against the boards and his lungs forgot how to take in oxygen.
“yes. Luke, why do you think i go on those dates? have you not noticed that almost every guy i go out with resembles you? i didn’t know if you felt the same way, i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt without risking our entire friendship going up in flames. Luke, i’m so fucking in love with you and it hurt. for two years, i’ve reveled in our drunken moments because i thought that was all i’d ever get. i dreaded the day that you would meet someone and tell me it has to stop. i fell for you so hard and it was so scary and i just- i had to try and move on. i had to try and meet someone before ultimately, you did. because i knew that if you told me you met someone, and i was still in love with you? i would never recover from that, Luke. i wouldn’t. and now you’re saying this and i, god i feel so fucking stupidly in love with you. you don’t have to wait anymore, because i realized i love you a long time ago.”
Luke pushes out of his bed, any interest in sleep lost to him. pulling on a hoodie and an abandoned pair of sweatpants from his bedroom floor, he doesn’t even bother telling Jack that he’s leaving.
“god, i need to kiss you.” he slips on his nike slides, his fingers nimbly plucking his keys off the hook by the front door, and as quickly as he could manage, he was out of there.
“you can kiss me tomorrow, Lukey.” she smiles, finally rising from her bed to finish her nightly routine.
that is, until she hears a key turn in her front door. her eyebrows pull together as she wonders out of her room, greeted by sight of a disheveled Luke in her apartment doorway, who looks like he just ran down the stairs to get there.
hanging up the phone, she grins back at the tall boy.
“or i can kiss you now.” a playful smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he taking wide glides over to her.
his hands find her cheeks, his thumbs wiping gently over the supple, tear stained skin. the apartment is silent, their heartbeats racing as she gazes up at his beautiful eyes.
“or you can kiss me now.” she echoes, her words mumbled and low.
that’s the final straw, the confirmation Luke desperately needed, and finally, he allows his head to dip down. her lips were warm and soft, tasting faintly of mint ice cream, and warmth spreads across his body, starting at his chest and almost blossoming across his body. Luke feels at home.
her hands desperately cling to his hoodie, as though he’ll disappear if she lets go, and his slide back to cup the nape of her neck. she has no desire to pull away, but her lungs spread with fire until she’s forced apart by the need to breathe.
“i love you.” she whispers, eyes closed as she rests her forehead against his own, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she bites back a lovelorn smile.
“i love you, sweet girl.”
“please don’t go back home. spend the night?” she finally opens her eyes, her head tipping back as he straightens up.
a pink hue glows upon his cheeks, and she can’t resist letting the backs of her fingers gently graze over the heated skin.
“not going anywhere, baby. staying right here.” his lips brush against her forehead, leaving a fleeting kiss in their wake and making her heartbeat flutter within her rib cage.
it feels right, the way they go about a new bed time routine. luke’s arms wrapped around her waist as she brushes her teeth, his eyes boring into her reflection. her head on his chest as they fall asleep, his alarm on for them to wake up for morning skate, together.
and if they were holding hands when they walked into the rink, if they were a cheesy couple who kissed before he entered the locker room, if his smile was a bit too wide in the tiktok she filmed for the Devils socials, if she chose the question ‘do you believe in fate?’ solely because of him, could they really be blamed?
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If It All Fell (3)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: Angst (obvi)
a/n: It's about to reallyyyy get started in the next part (I promise there will be fluff in this fic eventually). Thank you so much for reading and interacting with this series ❤️❤️ I love writing it!!
Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ☆ Part 4 ☼
Series Masterlist
~~
Mor’s fingers slid along book spines as she circled the room. A fire crackled and popped beneath the mantle, providing ambiance as the blonde retold another story of your life. You, unsure how to move about the space, remained seated in a rather large chair with an uncomfortably low back. 
“Gods, you wouldn’t talk to Rhys for a week. He was beside himself,” she laughed, shaking her head in faint fondness. “You refused to stay at the House out of pure spite. That’s when you and Azriel decided—” 
She cut herself off, nearly tripping on the ornate rug under your chair.  
“When Azriel and I decided what?” you probed. 
Mor bit into her lip, taking a large breath. “That story is for another time.” 
You hummed, hiding your frustration beneath a close-lipped grin. 
A story for another time.
This was your story, and yet, there were so many pieces that weren’t making sense. There was so much being kept from you—you could feel it—but why? Why did Mor omit some things and freely speak of others? Why was the topic of Azriel so… taboo? 
Your thoughts traveled back to the lunch yesterday, the way Azriel had abruptly vanished. He hadn’t been able to spend even an hour in your presence. The rest of the meal had been tense, with Cassian attempting to save your feelings by sending subtle jabs Azriel’s way and Mor shooting daggers at the swinging door. 
Maybe you and Azriel were enemies? It certainly didn’t feel that way whenever he was around. Granted, you’d only seen him twice since waking up, but those two times weren’t filled with hostility or ire, were they? 
Mor moved over to the window. You clenched the cushion of your chair between tense fingers. 
Did Azriel not like you? 
The thought sent daggers through your chest, which was odd, considering the man had only spoken about four words to you. But… he had to like you, didn’t he? When Mor spoke of your family, of your place in this court, she always included Azriel. He was always some part of the stories of your life. 
But that didn’t mean the two of you were friends. 
That didn’t mean he liked being around you. 
Perhaps the Inner Circle was attempting to rewrite history—reform a bond between friends that had long been burned. Maybe the two of you had constant disagreements and fights and the rest of them were sick of it, using your lack of memories to drive you back together. That would certainly explain Azriel’s disappearance yesterday. 
The conclusion ate away at you. It ate and ate until you were left feeling hollow. How could one person—a person you didn’t even know—be affecting you so much? There was a vast array of other problems you should be dwelling on. 
“He doesn't like me very much, does he?” 
You hadn’t meant to ask the question; the words had spilled out without permission. 
Mor’s head jutted back in confusion, her mouth opening in the shape of a scoff. “Who?”
“Azriel,” you clarified, suddenly feeling so small in the large, confusing chair you sat in. “I know I lost my memory, but I still grasp context clues, Mor. You’re always hesitant to speak of him and he didn’t exactly seem overjoyed to be spending time with me yesterday. Listen—” you held your hand up, stopping Mor from giving you the excuses you could see welling up “—I don’t care, okay? I don’t care how bad it all sounds. I just want to know the truth. I can’t… I can’t even begin to figure this all out without the complete truth.” 
The conflicted twist of Mor’s brow was glaringly apparent. She brought her fingers together at her waistline, fidgeting with them in what you assumed to be a nervous habit.
A lick of sympathy made you add, “Come on, it can’t be that bad, right? Whatever it is?” 
A pause.
“I don’t know if I should be the one to explain this all to you,” Mor said, struggling over each word. 
“It seems like no one else will.” You stood from your chair, ignoring the strange sense of loss from your departure. Did the rest of this room smell so much of cedar and night-kissed air? “Please, Mor. I’m so confused. I know more about myself, about you and I—you’ve done a wonderful job at that—but… I need to know everything. There’s a chance that I… a chance that I don’t get my memories back. I need to know who I am. Every part.” 
You brought your hands up to grasp at Mor’s, pleading with her through your gaze. Your friend—she had become your friend—stared back at you with so much disparaged hope. 
“You could still—” 
“Please, Mor.” 
You squeezed her fingers. 
She closed her eyes and sighed. 
“Y/n, Azriel—” 
Something crashed, causing Mor to yank your hands back until you were secure behind her, her body acting as a shield between you and the door. There was another bang, a panicked voice, and then heavy footsteps. Your back pressed against the glass window, a chill sinking into your bones. 
“—in her and Az’s reading room.”
The door slammed open not a moment later, Cassian bursting through in a frazzled state. He quickly scanned the room before landing on you and Mor. He locked eyes with the blonde, gave a quick nod, almost indistinguishable, and then turned his gaze to you. 
“You want to meet our High Lord?” 
~~
You could feel the tension the moment you stepped into the room. 
Shadows battled for purchase around Azriel, his fists clenched at his sides as he stood opposite Rhysand. A desk separated them, filled with papers and books and notes. Neither made any indication that they had heard your group enter the office until Rhysand shot his eyes to the corner of his vision.
Azriel sighed, deep and menacing, as if Rhysand had insulted him gravely. 
But he hadn’t said anything. 
Rhysand’s jaw shifted to the side. 
Cassian spoke, and it was then you realized his arm was pressing you back into the doorway. “Everything good in here?” 
Mor stood ground behind you, keeping a firm hand on your back. 
“Everything is fine,” Rhysand replied, steady voice matching his steady gaze on the male in front of him.
“You both sure? Because you told me to get her and I don’t know if having two Illyrians—” 
“Everything is fine, Cassian,” Rhysand repeated. Some of the tension left him. With a sharp look in Azriel’s direction, he turned his attention toward you, craning his head to the side to catch you behind Cassian’s broad shoulders. “Hello, y/n.” 
A nervous breath left you; whether it was from the hostility in the room or the greeting from the High Lord, you didn’t know. When Cassian nodded to Azriel and moved to the side, allowing you a full entrance, you glanced around quickly and caught the eyes of each person once, and then twice. 
You licked your drying lips. “High Lord,” you responded, bending at the knee and lowering your gaze. 
You had no recollection as to how long a bow was supposed to last. There was just some intrinsic part of you that knew the gesture was needed. Rhysand was a High Lord and you were… well, you weren’t sure what your title was—if you even had one. What your place was within this court. 
No one had deigned to tell you. 
When you rose after a seemingly acceptable amount of time, you were met with a still silence. All of the previous tension in the room melted away to create space for the stifling pause that permeated the air. Rhysand blinked at you, and then blinked again. 
And then he had to cover his mouth because he began laughing. 
A new emotion you could not remember experiencing invaded every inch of your body. It took you several seconds of enduring Rhysand’s muffled laugh before you recognized it as mortification. Pure, unadulterated mortification. 
You clasped your hands together in front of your waist and took a harrowing breath in, trying to fight back the sudden burn in your nose. 
Azriel, who had been watching you with careful grace since you stepped out from behind Cassian, turned his head with a sharp snap and growled at his High Lord. The leather around his fingers, placed there to keep his blazing siphons in place, groaned as his fists constricted once more. 
Rhysand banished the argument before it began, attempting to wipe away the laugh with his fingers. “I’m—I’m sorry, y/n,” he chuckled, collecting himself further, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I know this is not funny for you, but… but I have never seen you do that a day in your life. And you have met several High Lords.” 
You glanced around to gauge the reactions of the others in the room, finding Cassian with his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek to fight a smile and Mor staring up at the ceiling, in the midst of that same battle. Some of the embarrassment fled, but it was only replaced with confusion. 
“I.. I’m sorry, I just assumed—because you’re a High Lord, I assumed your station required—” 
Rhysand shook his head and gently corrected your rambling. “In a public space, perhaps. Maybe not in Velaris. And certainly not from someone I consider to be a sister.”
A sister. 
Your family. 
Right.
“I’m sure Helion would welcome the greeting,” Cassian huffed out from beside you, his words laced with an unrealized laugh. “Especially since the last time you greeted the High Lord of Day you told him to never again try baking in his entire immortal life. Not even a hello.” 
Whatever discussion was occurring prior to your entrance was long forgotten. Even Azriel cracked a smile at that, and the room was filled with more than Rhysand’s laughs. The sounds, although new for you, had a smile tugging at your own lips. It was the first time since you woke up that no one was frowning at you, or fighting off tears, or storming away in bouts of shadows. 
In fact, the feeling was so jarring you found yourself laughing as well—a tentative laugh, but one of the first that felt real. 
It was a few more moments of joyous forgetting before silence took over again, but it was a lighter silence this time. Rhysand motioned to the chair facing his desk, and you took the seat, Cassian standing tall behind you, Mor positioning herself on the arm. 
Azriel remained standing just a step away. 
His face was void of a smile once again. 
Rhysand cleared his throat. “It seems wrong to introduce myself now, but I must ask that you call me Rhys—or Rhysand, if I’ve really done something to piss you off. But not High Lord.” When you only nodded in agreement, he looked down at his desk, something lost in his eye. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around for you sooner. I’ve been researching—trying to figure this out.” 
“I know. Thank you, Hi—Rhys,” you corrected. Cassian squeezed your shoulder from behind. A shadow followed the movement, slinking down from the Illyrian’s hand to loop around your neck. 
“There isn’t much literature on witches, unfortunately. Not here. I’ve had Amren, another member of our court, looking through what she knows. She—well, she knows a great deal about many things that we don’t understand.” Rhysand sighed. Humor left him. “The consensus so far is that anything done by a witch can only be undone by that witch. Meaning—” 
“Meaning there’s no hope unless we can find her,” you finished for him. “But—” your brows furrowed “—I’m the only one who saw her. Mor’s told me about that day. No one else saw the witch but me and now I…” 
The burning in your nose was back, this time accompanied by the pounding in your head and the pressure in your chest. Both had become constants in your life. A sickening sort of panic twisted its way through you, leaving your breath unsteady even as Cassian ran a comforting hand over your shoulders and Mor offered silent encouragement at your side. 
The only thing keeping your tears at bay were the shadows that had sought you out, their presence tickling your skin and serving as a distraction. That, and the azure glow continuously catching the corner of your eye as Azriel clenched and unclenched his fist. 
“There are two avenues we can take,” Rhys offered with a kind, calm smile. “I am able to see into minds, oftentimes past what even you might be cognizant of. If you allow me to, I can enter your memories and take a look… maybe see the witch or something useful.”  
You could make it worse.
You remembered bits and pieces from the day you were attacked, but some things were clearer than others. You had no idea who said what, but you knew someone had warned Rhys against this—someone had wrapped themselves around you and kept him far, far away. 
“Would that hurt?” you asked. 
A trembling exhale fell from the shadowsinger’s lips. You turned to look at him, but he kept his eyes forward. 
“I would do my best to ensure that it didn’t,” Rhys comforted, his own eyes darting from Azriel and back to you. “At any sign of discomfort, I would stop. The goal would just be to see where your memories lay, if they were accessible at all. And to see if there was anything hidden about the witch.” 
You nodded, trying to reconvene privately as you stared down at your fingers.
He would just take a look. Maybe it would somehow stop this incessant pounding in your head or maybe he would be able to see the memory of the witch. Maybe your memories were there, and you just didn’t have access to them yourself. 
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
“If you aren’t comfortable with that—” Azriel’s low voice cut through your rampage of thoughts. “—we still have several people looking for information. As spymaster, I can assure you that all personnel available are on the hunt in Spring Court.” 
You looked up, and Azriel met your eye for the first time since that disastrous lunch. Something felt like it fractured within you, a desolation so sharp it stung, but just as abruptly, that feeling washed away. It felt as if it seeped through some crack only to be reined in and slammed behind several locked doors.
You rubbed at your chest in an attempt to soothe the ache the feeling left. Azriel flickered his gaze down to watch your hand, clenched his jaw, and then looked back up. Softer this time—an apology you couldn’t comprehend. 
“Thank you,” you whispered. “It means a lot that you are spending so much time on this. I—I can’t begin to thank you fully.” 
Some of the conviction you had grown so used to seeing on Azriel’s face crumbled. He took a half-step towards you, a seemingly unconscious movement. 
“Anything.” His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. “Y/n, anything.” 
It wasn't until Rhys spoke again that you were snapped out of the trance Azriel had locked you in. “I cannot guarantee I will see anything, if you choose to allow me in,” the High Lord explained. When you looked over at him, a sad smile lingered. “Which is why an alternative may be needed.” 
“Of course,” you nodded, an encouragement for him to continue. 
Rhys pushed his fingers together as they sat atop his desk. “We would take you to Day Court. Helion—the High Lord Cassian mentioned—is skilled in spell-cleaving. He may be able to undo some of what the witch did, if that’s possible. Or just give us a better read on the situation.” 
Mor startled from beside you, “Rhys—” 
“It wouldn’t be like last time,” Rhys placated, once again glancing toward the shadowsinger. “It wouldn’t.” 
“Couldn’t Feyre—” 
“She doesn’t have that much control over each of the court powers yet. We—we tried.” 
“Feyre?” you asked, but the question was directed to no one and no one answered it. 
“It’s a brilliant plan, isn’t it?” Azriel spit out, vitrole tainting each syllable. The heat rose in the room.
Cassian cut in this time, his voice a vibration at the back of your head. “Azriel, maybe—” 
You couldn’t focus on anything they were saying as each line spoken left you with more questions, more pieces you couldn’t connect. Azriel was mad, Mor was concerned, Cassian was attempting to play the mediator. You had no idea what role Rhys filled, but you assumed it was the level-headed High Lord who only wanted the best for his court. 
But Azriel was too livid and that emotion drowned out all the rest. 
It wouldn’t be like last time. 
What happened last time? 
“I can’t go through that again,” Azriel stressed, his palm now flat on the wood of Rhys’s desk. “We can’t put her through that again.” 
But it had sounded like the Night Court was friendly with Day; Cassian made it seem like you were close enough with Helion to make jabs at his cooking. 
Put you through what? 
“Maybe,” Cassian gritted out, his fingers kneading comfort into your arm. “This isn’t the best discussion to be having. Maybe we start with the first plan and if Rhys can’t find anything, we talk about it.” 
Azriel leaned away from the desk, a sharp breath leaving his nose. The shadows that had swarmed around him calmed and flowed along the floor, stopping at your feet. A link between the two of you, it looked like—like a thread or a river or a bridge. 
You expected Azriel to leave again, to storm off and avoid this entire situation. You wouldn’t exactly blame him; even with Cassian’s negotiation, there were still so many contingencies and unknowns. This wasn’t simple or clear cut, and it would take a lot of time—time perhaps not so willingly given. 
But he didn’t. 
Azriel bit back a snarl and pushed back into the shadows, but he didn’t leave. 
You felt his eyes on you from the corner of the room, and something within you calmed while something else chafed. 
Amidst a soft ringing in your ears, you caught Mor’s low grumble. “At least now we know why they were at each other’s throats when we walked in.” 
Cassian scoffed out a disbelieving sound. 
And you… you gave in to a few of the tears that had been burning behind your eyes, completely missing that the crack in your chest had returned. Completely missing that it was the cause—emotions that weren't entirely yours influencing the dampness on your cheeks.
Part 4 ☼
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wonusite · 1 year
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❝ When Professor Jeon realizes his most earnest student is no longer paying him the attention he craves, he goes to great lengths to make sure he’s the only one holding her attention. ❞
pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem reader
genre: teacher au, cam girl au, college au, smut
word count: 9.3k
warnings: illicit relationship, imbalance of power, age gap (reader is in her 20s and wonwoo is in his 30s), sex work, drinking, lots of pining, jealousy, misunderstandings, professor!wonwoo, student!reader, cam girl!reader, masturbation (f and m), oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, office sex, car sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!wonwoo
a/n: this has been in the works for way too long and i’m so happy with how it came out. hugest shoutout to the nonny who sent in the ask that started it all. minors dni!!
You think you might actually die.
If you didn’t spontaneously combust from how embarrassed you felt, then you were going to go find a cliff to throw yourself off of. You can’t remember the last time you fucked up this badly, and it doesn’t help that it’s all your friends can talk (and laugh) about as you’re having dinner.
“Maybe he didn’t open it.” Vernon tries to reason.
“Yeah, right.” Soonyoung snorts. “He probably already clicked on the link and is jerking off to her videos right now.”
Chan’s laugh is one of the most endearing sounds you’ve ever heard, but right now it just sounds annoying. You’re glad you ordered an alcoholic drink with your meal because otherwise you wouldn’t be able have this conversation. When your friend sees your sour pout, he quickly changes his tune.
“You’re worrying for nothing. I’m sure once he saw what the site was, he clicked off.” Chan says as he not-so-subtly scoots his chair away from you. “He’s like the most respectful guy ever.”
“Chan’s right.” Vernon is quick to agree. “Professor Jeon isn’t the type to cross those boundaries with a student. You said you sent him an email saying it was a mistake, right? He’s a nice guy, so—”
“How fucking naive can you two be?” Soonyoung cut in with an incredulous look on his face. “I know his type. Those quiet guys are the biggest freaks behind closed doors. He’s definitely the type to fuck a student. I’ll put money on that shit.”
Chan pauses to mull over Soonyoung’s words while Vernon can only offer him an exasperated glare. The two boys know better than anyone how you feel about your professor, and they also know that the older man was the only person in the history of the universe to treat you coldly. This was definitely the worst situation you could ever find yourself in, but Soonyoung was too oblivious to see that fact.
Being the sweetheart that he is, Vernon is quick to change the topic. “Seokmin just texted me. He said everyone is on their way to Jihoon’s place. Let’s get the check.”
For a moment, it seems like your inner turmoil will be forgotten. Sure, you do have class early in the morning, but right now you were going to focus on having a good time at Jihoon’s party. And Vernon was probably right. Professor Jeon was the sweetest, most respectful man you had ever crossed paths with. He probably deleted the email after realizing what it was. And even if he hadn’t, this moment would eventually pass.
After all, no one ever actually died from embarrassment.
Everything was fine until the four of you are about to leave the restaurant and Soonyoung lets out a sound that resembles a chicken being strangled. His eyes are bugged out as he comically gestures across the dimly lit place. Your heart twists uncomfortably when you finally see what has him acting like a fool.
“I told you so.”
Those four words are the ones you hate the most in the world, especially when they’re coming from Kwon Soonyoung. You love him, you really do, but his lack of perception is fucking maddening sometimes. It’s especially infuriating in situations like the one you were in now.
“No fucking way.” Chan whispers with his mouth dropped open. “That’s—”
“Just because they’re having dinner together doesn’t mean they’re fucking.” Vernon reasons, obviously trying to spare what was left of your feelings.
“Who cares?” You manage to say without letting your voice tremble with the heartbreak that was currently seeping into your bones. “Let’s get out of here before they see us.”
Soonyoung only scoffs, not able to believe that your nosy ass doesn’t seem to care about the juicy scandal the four of you had stumbled upon. Vernon starts to push him out the door while you and Chan hurriedly follow behind them. Luckily, you manage to make it out of the restaurant without catching the attention of your English professor and his TA.
Normally, you would’ve loved to be a witness to any potential gossip, but this was different because you just so happened to be the tiniest bit in love with your professor. The more rational part of you knows that it doesn’t really mean anything that Professor Jeon was having dinner with his TA, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting a little bit (a lot).
No one ever died from embarrassment, but apparently dying from a broken heart was real.
“This is actually a good thing for you, Y/N.” Soonyoung says once you’re all in Chan’s car and driving to Jihoon’s party.
You grit your teeth and manage to answer him in a somewhat calm voice. “What are you talking about?”
“If Professor Jeon says anything about the link you accidentally sent him, you can tell him that you know he’s fucking his TA.”
It actually wouldn’t be a bad idea if even talking about the very possibility that those two were having an illicit affair didn’t feel like someone had punched you in the stomach. But instead of letting any of them see how much it actually hurt, you only offered what you hoped was a convincing laugh.
“Yeah. You’re right.”
You look out the window as the conversation takes a different turn, not noticing the looks Vernon keeps giving you all the way to Jihoon's apartment. He doesn’t say anything because you keep speaking and laughing like everything is fine. He should’ve recognized your calm and aloof behavior as a sign that you were on the verge of spiraling, but he didn’t.
Even as you unbutton two more buttons of your pretty blouse and hike up your skirt when you enter the party, he doesn’t say anything. It’s easy for him to assume that you want to hit on some of Jihoon’s producer friends for fun as you often did after getting a little tipsy.
It’s not until he sees you drinking like the world is running out of alcohol that he feels the need to intervene. Vernon quickly walks over to you, eyeing you with blatant concern. You don’t even acknowledge him as he goes to stand beside you.
“Maybe you should slow down.”
You ignored your friend’s concerned voice and downed another shot. In the back of your mind, you know he’s right, but the need to forget about your hurt feelings and humiliation was far greater than reason. Besides, you can hardly taste the alcohol anymore which makes it easier to drink to your heart’s content.
“This is a party, Vernon.” You remind him. “I’m only trying to have a good time. I deserve to, don’t you think?"
Of course he thought you were in desperate need of a fun night out. In fact, he’s the one who convinced you to come since it had been a hot minute since you left your apartment for something that didn’t involve working or school.
But Vernon can see that the way you’re drinking is only an after effect of what you saw at the restaurant, and if you kept this up you were going to black out like you did at Junhui’s party freshman year. Because he didn’t want to relive that night, he makes sure to bring you plenty of water and keep you within his sight. If he couldn’t stop you, he was going to make sure you were taken care of.
Maybe you’re acting childish, but you don’t really care at this point. All you can focus on is the pain that’s tightly gripping your heart. The alcohol helps a bit, but you still don’t manage to forget the events leading up to your irresponsible drinking.
You could get over your little slip up, and even the fact that Professor Jeon was potentially fucking his TA. But what really hurt is that your English professor seemed to display this great disposition to everyone in the world except you. Sure, you should’ve been grateful that he probably didn’t open the link you sent him because he was having dinner with TA, but your fucked up mind and heart couldn’t care about that for some reason.
It’s not fair, you can’t help but think.
You were down bad, but it wasn’t your fault. Every time your English professor smiles, you feel like your heart is going to implode. The way his kind eyes always form into crescents as the softest smile ever graces his face is possibly the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen.
What’s not fair is the fact that Professor Jeon has never directed his pretty smile at you. Not even once.
It’s not like he’s never had the opportunity to do so. You purposely arrive early to his class in order to sit at the very front, and not to mention that you’re very vocal during discussions and always answer his questions. But all he’s ever offered you is a fleeting glance and a nod of acknowledgement while the entire English department gets that stupidly endearing smile of his.
Chan always tells you how thirsty you look during class, and when you make the argument that he wouldn’t know since he always sits all the way in the back, he actually laughed at you.
You lean forward so much that it looks like you’re about to fall out of your seat, he’d said.
After you catch yourself doing exactly that during one of Professor Jeon’s more riveting lectures, you wanted the earth to open up and swallow you whole. If Lee fucking Chan—one of the most oblivious people you had ever met—had noticed your massive crush, then you were 100% sure your professor had as well.
Just thinking about it made you cringe and down another shot. The burning feeling made you come to a decision. If your professor didn’t care for you, then so be it. Tonight was the last night you would feel heartbroken over him. You were going to shove him out of your heart and mind if it was the last thing you did.
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Wonwoo can’t describe the feeling in his chest when his class is ten minutes away from starting, and you’re not already in your usual seat. He tries to brush it off because maybe you’re just running late. After almost an entire semester of always being early, it was only logical that you would be late at least once. Things happened, and he was sure you would show up soon.
At least, that’s what he thinks until it’s actually time to start the class and you’re still no where to be seen. It bothers him and it shows. Bad.
The class is probably the worst he’s had since he first became a professor, but that was the least of his concerns. All he can focus on is the uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut as he thought about the possibilities of why you didn’t show up to class. Wonwoo doesn’t want to believe that you’re too embarrassed to show up because of the link you accidentally sent him.
You had sent him an email containing the correct link and profusely apologizing about thirty seconds later, and after he saw the name of the website he could see how the mistake was made. Unfortunately for you, the two websites were very similar in name.
If you really were avoiding coming to class because of that, he wishes you would give him a chance to tell you that he wasn’t uncomfortable or angry. But Wonwoo doesn’t get the opportunity to speak to you as soon as he hopes because almost an entire week goes by until he sees you again. He sees you on the way to his office and calls out your name before he realizes what he’s doing.
The way you’re expression drops into a cold discomfort makes him falter a bit. Where was that bright smile you always directed at him? It only makes Wonwoo certain that you were still mortified over what happened.
“I didn’t see you in class on Tuesday.” Wonwoo says after you awkwardly greet him. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just... personal stuff.”
The air is painfully awkward, and Wonwoo can’t stand the abrupt shift in your behavior. He needs to let you know that what happened shouldn’t make you feel uneasy around him because he understands that it was a mistake. However, he doesn’t react fast enough to do so.
“Professor.” You say hesitantly, nervously biting at your bottom lip. “Did you click on the link I accidentally sent you?”
You’re looking at him so shyly and nervously that he becomes powerless immediately. Wonwoo wants to make you feel more comfortable, but he also is unable to lie to you. “I did.” He says honestly. “But once I realized you sent the wrong website, I clicked off.”
Wonwoo can tell his honestly doesn’t make you feel any better. Just as he goes to comfort you, your attitude suddenly shifts.
“I’m really sorry. I swear it won’t happen again.” The apology sounds sincere, yet it’s missing the usual warmth your voice held whenever you spoke to him. “I have to go. I’ll see you in class.”
Wonwoo’s heart sinks when you run off without even giving him a chance to say goodbye. Maybe this is his own fault for taking your once sweet attitude toward him for granted. He never thought a day would come where you would actively avoid him.
A sudden determination to have things go back to the way they were overcomes him. Unfortunately, things got worse before they got better.
When he sees you again, you’re not early. You aren’t late either, but it’s odd to see that you don’t seem to care to be early anymore. And you don’t sit right at the front either. No, this time you sit all the way in the back between two boys—Lee Chan and Xu Minghao. This somewhat bothers him, but he can’t really be upset. After all, you were allowed to sit wherever you wanted.
It’s not until he sees you giggling and talking with those boys—particularly Minghao—during his lecture that he really gets agitated. He carries on as normally as he can, but this sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach is expanding up into his chest keeps distracting him. Deep down, Wonwoo knows this feeling is nothing more than petty jealousy.
Your new behavior carries on for weeks, and it makes Wonwoo feel like he’s losing his mind.
Finally, he decides he can’t keep his frustrations pent up inside and does something he knows he shouldn’t. When he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and gets on his computer. He opens the browser and is quick to click on the only site that’s on his favorites. Wonwoo quickly logs in, the action of typing his username and password is muscle memory at this point.
His eyes don’t mind the videos on the homepage, he only focuses on going to his subscriptions and clicks on the only profile he has under his favorites. Wonwoo let’s out a laugh. It’s quiet and slightly bitter. It’s funny how worried you were about him clicking on the link when he had been watching your streams since before you became his student.
Wonwoo feels a sense of sour accomplishment. He’s gone almost an entire week without watching any of your videos, but that was all in vain. As he scrolls down, he notices that you’ve done two streams since he last watched you. Just as he was deciding which one he was going to watch, he got a notification.
brattydoll sent you a message!
It’s pretty certain that Wonwoo flinched so hard it can be seen from space. He can’t believe what he’s seeing, and it almost feels wrong that this is happening to him. But he shoves all those thoughts aside and quickly clicks on the notification.
brattydoll: hi! you were the top tipper for the stream i did last week. as usual, you are eligible for a private stream. let me know what time and day best works for you xoxo
It takes him less than a minute to type a response to let you know he’s ready now. He waits in anticipation for your message, really hoping you say you’re ready too.
His dick starts to get hard when you tell him you’ll be ready in ten minutes while also explaining the boundaries you have while doing these private streams. He doesn’t really need a reminder since he’s won a private stream from you a couple of times before. Honestly, all he can really focus on is how he’ll get to have you all for himself. He quickly strips down to his underwear before he settling into his chair.
Wonwoo feels his cock twitch when you pop up on his screen. You have a sweet, seductive smile on your face as you gaze at your screen. It’s not like the one he was used to, but at least he can pretend you’re directing it at him like you know who he actually is. He’s fully hard by the time he notices that you’re wearing the lingerie set he sent you recently. You look absolutely divine in it. His very own temptation. Licking his lips, Wonwoo starts typing into the chat.
you look beautiful, baby. how have you been?
“How have I been?” You tilt your head innocently. “Horny. But what else is new?”
Fuck. This is exactly why he could never look you in the eyes for too long when he saw you in person. Wonwoo was always afraid you would be able to tell how much he wanted you if he looked at you too long. He was never good at hiding his feelings, after all.
“Do you like how your gift looks on me?” Your sultry voice asks, and Wonwoo feels his heart pound when your smile becomes affectionate.
i fucking love it. i knew it would be perfect for you.
Your tantalizing grin makes Wonwoo wish he was there with you. God, how he would ruin you.
“Before I start, I have one question.” You say as you lick your lips. “Are you not gonna let me see your pretty little cock?”
Wonwoo lets out a deep breath because he can literally feel his cock throb in need. He quickly angles his webcam so you can only see his torso before he turns on the camera. Your wolffish grin has precum oozing from his bulbous tip, and he thinks vaguely that he would fuck that complacent smirk right off your face if ever given the opportunity.
“Thought you were getting shy on me, baby.” You say as your hands start to trail up your body.
never.
You giggle sweetly, and Wonwoo feels like he can come from the sound alone. He wonders if you know exactly what you do to him and everyone who gets to see you like this. He suspects you do.
“I missed you.” It comes out breathy as you start to knead your tits. You bite your lip before pulling off your bra. “You hadn’t been on my latest streams, and I thought that maybe I wasn’t your favorite cam girl anymore.”
If only you knew.
you’ll always be my favorite, kitten.
You moan softly when you see the chat, thumb and index finger pinching and tugging at your nipples. “You promise?”
Wonwoo types a quick yes before he grips his cock, thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading the precum all over his tip. His large hand starts to pump his cock, watching as your eyes focus on the what he squeezes and tugs on himself. Wonwoo lets out a shaky groan when he sees your thighs squeeze together.
let me see that pretty pussy, baby.
You’re quick to push your panties to the side and your two fingers along your wet lips. Wonwoo’s eyes are glued to your pussy. Watching you use your arousal to lubricate your fingers is driving him insane, and he has to slow his movements when you sink your fingers into your cunt. He wonders what face you would make if it were his fingers fucking you instead. They’re so much bigger than yours are.
“Fuck.” You moan as you start to grind into your hand.
Wonwoo watches as your fingers move in and out of your cunt, eyeing the way you arousal is dripping down to your ass. Fuck. He wonders if you always get so wet or if the sight of his cock is getting you off. Part of him feels content deludedly believing it’s the latter.
Your moans grow louder when your fingers brush against your sweet spot. It’s rare that you imagine it’s your subscriber’s dick inside you and not your fingers, but cockydom’s cock is just so big and pretty that it’s hard not to. The other part of you thinks about your hot professor despite the fact that you were trying to get rid of the feelings you had for him. Oh well. Rome wasn’t built in a day.
Wonwoo curses as his movements speed up. There’s nothing he loves more than watching you play with yourself while pretending that his fist is actually your sweet little cunt.
you close, baby?
“So close.” You whimper as you feel your orgasm building up. “Are you gonna be a good boy and come with me?”
He’ll do anything you want. Instead of telling you that, Wonwoo types in the chat to keep your eyes on him. He wants you orgasm to the sight of him coming.
You’re glad your eyes are focused on the pretty dick on your screen because it makes it easier to reach your orgasm. The sight of the flushed cock aching and throbbing makes you clench around your fingers. You can tell he’s close by the way his hips are bucking into his hand as he squeezes around the sensitive tip. His thighs are quivering, and with a few more drags of his fist, you see the first rope of cum shoot out of him.
Wonwoo lets out a strangled gasp as his cock throbs wildly with each ribbon of cum that shoots from his tip. He comes so much that his seed covers his hand and abs. It glistens over his pulsing dick while he fucks his hand through his high. He smirks when he sees that you’re eyes are completely fixed on him as he milks every last drop from his cock.
A low moan tumbles past your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Wonwoo is careful to watch your facial expression, his fist subconsciously speeds up. You're just so fucking hot, and he just imagines how you would look coming on his cock.
You smile nicely and sweetly at the camera, biting your lower lip as you moan softly and rub a thumb over your clit. Two fingers spread yourself so he can see the way your folds glisten with your slick. Wonwoo’s zero in on your quivering cunt and the fingers that held them open. He just wants to take them in his mouth and suck them dry.
“I haven’t came that hard in a long time.” You breathe out blissfully. “You always do this to me.”
Wonwoo swallows thickly. Fuck. You’re turning him on all over again.
“Let’s end it here, baby. Be sure to watch my next stream.”
And just like that, the screen goes black and Wonwoo is left staring his own reflection.
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Sometimes you have to wonder if your life was fate’s way of punishing you for something you had done in a previous life because there was no fucking way you were this unlucky without any reason.
When you agreed to meet Seokmin for dinner, you never thought you’d be itching to leave the moment you arrived. All you wanted to do was have fun and distract yourself from your failing plan to get over Professor Jeon, but unfortunately for you, fate had other plans.
After the hostess leads you to your table, it becomes clear that bringing along Soonyoung and Chan was a mistake. Because sitting at the table alongside your friend was none other than Professor Jeon Wonwoo. You nearly trip over yourself because not only is he there, laughing and talking without a care in the world, but he looks so fucking hot while doing so.
The older man isn’t wearing his glasses and his hair is slicked up, exposing his forehead. Your professor looks like an absolute dream, but all you can see him as is a nightmare in the flesh.
This could not be happening to you.
It always slips your mind that Seokmin is older than all of you, but now you know that you’ll never forget. You considered turning around and making a stealthy escape, but your overenthusiastic friend spots you before you can even make a move. He greets all of you with a loud shout. At this point you can't just run away no matter how badly you want to. But you decide to stifle all your feelings, and try your hardest to not act like a skittish animal.
“Professor.” Chan greets casually as you three go to sit, and you envy that he’s so nonchalant. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I haven’t seen Seokmin in a long time.” Wonwoo says, noticing how you’re doing everything in your power not to look at him.
He won’t stand for it. Not anymore. “It’s nice to see you, Y/N.”
It gives him a sick thrill to see you shiver at his words. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He manages to smile instead of smirking like he wants to. Wonwoo has always known you’ve felt an attraction toward him, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it. After all, you were his favorite student.
“Don’t be so awkward!” Seokmin chastises you after you tensely greet your professor. “Wonwoo is just a normal guy right now! Don’t even think of him as your professor.”
If only that’s why you felt so uncomfortable.
Your first mistake of the night was bringing your moronic friends who can’t take a hint. The second mistake was ordering a round of shots to ease your nerves. It’s not like dinner isn’t going smoothly, but the coiling in your stomach refuses to let you relax.
You try to engage as much as you can without letting your emotions slip through, but your professor keeps making it hard. You’re not sure what’s wrong with him, but he seems interested in everything you have to say, no matter how small. You can’t help but feel a little bitter at that.
Where was this energy when you were making a fool out of yourself during his many classes?
“Y/N.” Seokmin calls in a singsong voice after he downs another shot. “A little birdie told me you’re seeing someone.”
You try to ignore Wonwoo’s piercing stare, but it’s hard. Instead of focusing on your professor’s uncharacteristic behavior, you cast a fleeting glare at Chan. He can never keep his mouth shut, and this time you don’t know how you’re going to keep yourself calm enough to answer Seokmin.
Somehow, you manage to respond normally. “I wouldn’t say that. This little birdie is obviously mistaken.”
“Really?” Soonyoung cuts in, and you can literally hear the alcohol starting to dictate his actions. “Because Minghao has been wanting to fuck you since high school, and you finally went out with the kid last week. It’s gonna break his heart to know that you don’t want to be his girlfriend.”
You clench your jaw and give Seokmin a look that said, control this fool before I murder him. Sure, maybe it would’ve been good for Professor Jeon to think that you weren’t trying to get at him because of the link you’d sent him, but talking about Minghao’s apparent schoolboy crush on you was not the way you wanted to do that. Also, it was just uncool to air out someone’s intimate feelings like that.
Before any of you could intervene and stop Soonyoung’s drunken ramblings, your dear friend keeps talking. “Of course you’re not obligated to return his feelings. If that’s the case, Seungcheol also wants to go out with you. Just let me know."
Chan might not be very observant, but he knows when you’re on the verge of exploding. He definitely does not want to see you on the warpath because it’s possibly one of the scariest experiences he’s ever gone through. So he quickly intervenes before you decided to shove one of the utensils on the table down Soonyoung’s throat.
“You said Jihoon asked you to sing on the new song he’s workin on.” Chan cuts in before Soonyoung can keep talking. “Did you say yes?”
This shift in conversation works out for all of ten minutes before Soonyoung starts up again. However, he’s now changed his target to your English professor.
“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung slurs the name slightly. “Can I ask you something?”
You can see the disaster waiting to happen, and you only hope he doesn’t do anything to perturb your teacher. As you share a look with Chan, you can tell he’s thinking the same thing.
“Since you’re not my teacher anymore, I feel comfortable asking you this.” Before he can say anything, Soonyoung continues. “Are you fucking your TA?”
Everything just goes silent.
Seokmin’s smile drops instantly. All he can do is gawk at Soonyoung. Chan looks at Professor Jeon while hiding his mouth behind his hand, and you just know he has that shit-eating grin on his face. That dumbass finds it funny, but you know that your friend isn’t done with his drunken questioning. Professor Jeon doesn’t seem all that fazed. He only blinks slowly before his eyes fall to you.
You’re not sure what Wonwoo sees when he looks at you, but whatever it is, he doesn’t like it. When he looks back at Soonyoung, there’s a lethal coldness in his eyes that you never in a million years thought you’d see. If looks could kill, your friend would be nothing but dust at this point.
“No, I’m not fucking my TA.” His deep voice comes out in a growl and you almost want to hit yourself for feeling turned just by the sound of it. “Why would you—?”
“You don’t have to lie. You’re amongst friends here.” Soonyoung declares with a laugh.
God, you’ve never wanted to throttle anyone more than you did right at that moment.
“Besides, you were seen having dinner at Michelins.” Soonyoung says before he gestures to himself then to you and Chan. “By us.”
It was official. You were definitely paying for something wicked that you had done in a past life.
Wonwoo’s shocked gaze falls to you, but you and Chan are too busy looking like you were one more word away from strangling Soonyoung to pay him any attention. Ten shades of horror goes through him at that moment because even though there was nothing going on between him and his TA, he didn’t want you to think there was.
“Aha,” Seokmin chuckles nervously. “Soonyoung’s a little drunk, I guess.”
“That’s right.” You say with a disgenuine smile and gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Luckily, Seokmin is quick to call for the check with the pretext of needing to get up early to go record with Jihoon. You share a look with Chan as you all get up, knowing you were both utterly fucked. Sure, Professor Jeon didn’t seem like the petty type, but Soonyoung had a way of bringing that side out in people.
“Wanna share an Uber?” Chan asks you as he hold on to a wandering Soonyoung.
Again, you ignore your professor’s piercing gaze and shake your head. “Minghao’s gonna take me home.” You say as you gesture behind you to the waiting car.
Wonwoo watches with a clenched jaw as you slip away after only offering him a halfhearted farewell.
Since his plan didn’t work this time, he was going to move to Plan B.
It makes him smirk a bit. Soon enough, you’d be the obedient, earnest student you were before this entire mess started.
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If Wonwoo felt hesitant about executing his plan before, he definitely doesn’t after seeing the way your attention is focused on Xu Minghao the entirety of his class. He can barely manage to keep a calm facade as he tells you that he needs you to see him before his office hours are over. Just as he hoped, you come just when there’s about ten minutes left. He knows you do it so you wouldn’t have to spend much time with him.
You try to rush him because you can’t stand him when he has his hair slicked up and no glasses on. And you feel like you’re going crazy because it almost seems like he’s aware of this with the way he’s looking at you.
“I wanted to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable around me after what happened the other night.”
It’s a shame that you can’t tell him that you don’t want to talk about it, especially with him. Instead of telling him that you just wanted him to get out of your mind and heart, you only offered him an impassive shrug. “I don’t. Is that all?”
“I also hope you know I’m not sleeping with my TA.” Wonwoo says in a slow drawl that makes a familiar heat gather at the pit of your gut.
“Yeah.” You breathe out shakily. “I know you wouldn’t sleep with a student or someone who was your student.”
You feel like a wounded gazelle when Professor Jeon starts to stalk toward you. A quiet squeal leaves your throat when he wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. “Who says I wouldn’t?” He hums against the shell of your ear. “I’m not fucking my TA because she’s not the one I want.”
A dull thumping sound fills your ears, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s your heart. You swallow thickly and look at Wonwoo with wide eyes when he pulls away from your ear. “I… but this—”
“Don’t look so surprised.” He purrs in that deep voice of his, and you can already feel the wetness start to pool between your legs. “Despite what you all think, I’m a cocky dom.”
It takes you half a second to figure out what he’s implying. Your jaw drops, feeling like you’ve been body snatched and dropped in an alternate universe. “You—! You’re—!”
“Don’t get shy on me now, kitten. That’s not you.”
If he’s cockydom, then he’s been watching you for a long time. Much longer than you’ve been his student. It flatters and mortifies you all at the same time.
“Do you know how hard it was to have you so close without being able to touch you?” Wonwoo groans as he presses closer to you. He smirks when you whimper at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you.
“I couldn’t even look at you without thinking about your pretty little cunt.”
Suddenly, it all makes sense to you. His coldness, his unwillingness to pay you much attention, everything. That’s all you need to realize before you smash your lips on to his.
Wonwoo moans into your mouth, hands sliding down beneath your skirt to dig into your ass. His cock twitches when he feels that you aren’t wearing any underwear. Fuck. He was going to ruin you in every way possible.
You slowly guide him toward his desk without disconnecting from his lips, needing him to fuck you like you’ve dreamed of him doing from the moment you saw him. Just as you’re about to bend over his desk and show him how wet you already are, a knock startles you both.
“Professor? Can I come in?”
You both recognize it as his TA’s voice, and just as Wonwoo is about to tell her to get lost, you put a finger to your lips. He can only watch as you drop to your knees and crawl under his desk before you motion for him to sit down. It’s almost comical how easily he complies with your wishes, just how he always has during the private streams.
You really do have him wrapped around your little finger.
Wonwoo pushes his chair forward a bit, but not too much so he wouldn’t crowd you. He clears his throat before telling his TA she can come in.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No.” Wonwoo’s smile is too pretty and too casual for your liking. “Not at all.”
So you do what any other rational person would do.
You start to undo his pants.
Wonwoo is always good at keeping a poker face, but you’ve observed him long enough to know when he’s starting to get flustered. The edges of his mouth tighten and his eyes get this look in them. It makes you lick your lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.
Somehow, you manage to get his cock out of his pants without making too much noise. You find it kind of cute how Wonwoo is acting like he’s unaffected. However, his hard, twitching cock says otherwise. It’s so big and thick, and looks ten times prettier in person.
You lick your lips before you wrap them around the big mushroom top, gently swirling your tongue around to nurture the head. You’re looking up at him, holding back a smirk. He keeps talking with his TA about lesson plans and other shit you don’t really care about. How can you when you finally have his cock in your hands and mouth like you’ve always wanted?
Wonwoo covers a moan with a cough when you take the rest of him into your mouth. Well as much as you can, anyway. They say the camera adds ten pounds, but it didn’t do his pretty cock any justice. You can barely fit half of him in your mouth.
That doesn’t stop you from sucking his dick like a lollipop. It’s heavy against your tongue, weighing it down with the sweet, opaque drops of precum. Wonwoo is surprisingly good at not making any noise, but you can tell he’s close when he starts to carefully thrust up into your mouth, forcing you to take him a little deeper.
You speed up your movements as much as you can without making any actual noise, hollowing your cheeks as you do.
“Are you okay?” That stupid TA of his asks. “You look a little flushed.”
“Just fine.” He grits out with a tense smile. “We should probably wrap up now.”
You hear the rustling of papers just as Wonwoo starts twitching in your mouth. The soft whine you let out feels like a hot rubber band around his cock.
“Lock the door on your way out.” Now your professor sounds like he’s in pain, and you know you have him right where you want him.
“Okay?” His TA sounds confused. “But are you sure you’re—?”
“Just go.” He growls, and in the next second you hear the door slam shut.
You almost laugh, but when you see Wonwoo’s thighs clenching you prepare yourself to swallow every last fit of cum he has for you. It doesn’t take long for his cock to twitch wildly before ropes of hot, salty cum shoot down your throat. He always comes a lot, but you overestimate your ability to swallow it all. Some of this spills out of the edges of your mouth as Wonwoo lets out a loud moan.
When you pull away, he grips your arm and helps you up so you’re face to face with him. He looks so good, sweaty and flushed from his orgasm. Wonwoo’s thumb wipes the excess cum from your chin before shoving his sticky finger in your mouth. You happily lick his tongue clean, making sure to moan wantonly while you do so.
Wonwoo picks you up easily and settles you on the edge of his desk. His eyes are dark and hungry as he put his hands on either side of your thighs. “Such a fucking tease, kitten. What would you have done if she caught us?”
You boldly smirk at him, feeling your arousal drip out of you and spill on to his desk. “No one would believe her anyway. Everyone knows sweet, respectful Professor Jeon would never fuck a student.”
That’s all it takes for him to grip the front of your flimsy t-shirt and literally rip it off of you. The cold air hits your bare tits, and you can’t stop the surprised gasp that you let out.
“No bra and no panties?” Wonwoo growls, licking his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples. “Were you planning on seeing that boy tonight?”
You bite your lip and smirk. Maybe you would let Soonyoung off the hook sooner than planned. “So what if I was? You have your TA to keep you company after hours, no?”
Wonwoo growls a bit before he lifts your skirt enough to expose your dripping cunt. He licks his lips when he sees that your sweet nectar is staining his desk. He gently moves to rub your folds before delivering a harsh slap to your cunt. You whine loudly, hips thrusting upward. He repeats his actions until you’re literally trembling against him.
“Such a bad girl.” Wonwoo says as he start to rub your cunt to ease the stings of his slaps. “But let me make something clear to you, kitten. I make the rules here.”
Before you can think to protest, Wonwoo shoves his fingers inside you, knuckle deep. You can only moan and grind into his hand as he curls them expertly against your sweet spot. His actions almost have you screaming, cunt clamping down on his relentless digits. He pulls out his fingers from your needy hole with a wet pop just before you can allow yourself to fall into true bliss.
Wonwoo smirks when you let out a bratty whine. He loved every second of it. His bratty princess. “Your pussy is so greedy, baby. Sucking my fingers in and not wanting to let go.”
You might feel embarrassed, but Wonwoo drops to his knees and smashes his face into your hot cunt. He smirks against you when you let out the sexiest moan he’s ever heard. Immediately, he shoves his tongue inside you and swirls it around slowly, licking up every drop of your juices.
Wonwoo can’t help but moan at how good you taste. Fuck. He knew you would taste like heaven, and it feels wrong that he’s deprived himself of you for so long. This all feels like a dream to him.
All you can do is whimper and mewl as you grind your cunt into his face. You let out a broken whimper as you feel your climax approaching. “Professor!”
Wonwoo pulls away from your cunt, smirking when you whine. “Uh, uh, kitten. It’s Wonwoo. Say my name.”
He groans when he sees your fluttering hole clench around nothing, and again he dives in like a madman. This time he shoves his fingers inside of you, needing you to come on his tongue. All it takes is a few licks and pump of his fingers for you to close your legs around his head and orgasm with a shout of his name.
“Wonwoo!”
Fuck. He’ll never get over hearing you moan his name. At this point he doesn’t care if the dean himself hears you. He won’t stop until he stuffs you full of his cum.
You can only watch as he tugs off his clothes, appreciating how good his body looks in person. Wonwoo stalks towards you and rubs your cunt a little, mean smirk on his face. You pout at him with a low whine and wrap your thighs wrapping around his waist. “Don’t be mean like you usually are.”
His other hand moves around your body to roughly knead at the swell of your ass, pushing you against his fingers. You mewl softly, fluttering your eyelashes bat him as you look at him with puppy dog eyes that you know he won’t deny.
“Don’t be a fucking brat.” He growls suddenly shoving his slick coated fingers past your lips to shut you up.
Your tongue feels heavy as you twirl the tip around the pads of his fingers, hands scratching at his chest. A low groan rumbles in his broad chest as he watches you with darkened eyes. “Only good girls get fucked, kitten. Remember that.”
Before you can say something bratty as is your custom, the words on the tip of your tongue when you feel the tip of his cock grinding against your wet entrance. It makes your mind go blank with need.
Wonwoo’s fingers slips out of your mouth and settle on your hips to keep you still. “Your little cunt is so wet, all for this fucking cock, huh?”
You nod fervently, mewling loudly as he pushed in slowly. The stretch burns, but also feels so fucking good. You feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock, but Wonwoo isn’t satisfied with only your mewls and whimpers. Even as he’s fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, he’s thrusting painfully slow, dragging his hard cock along your walls torturously.
“Don’t stay quiet, baby. Tell me how much you want my cock.”
Your whine makes him throb inside you. “I’ve wanted your cock for so long. Just fuck me already.”
“What a whiny little brat.” Wonwoo smirks as his hands move up your body to pinch your nipples. “So fucking cute.” His words are slightly slurred, drunk on the feeling of your pussy struggling to fit his whole length.
“Fuck! Wonwoo!” You moan when he starts to thrust into you.
You can only whimper and gasp as his big cock rams into you at an unrelenting pace. It’s almost too much, but you quickly learn that your nerdy English professor is insatiable. His palms trail down to your thighs until he has your trembling legs pushed up against your chest. This new position makes him fuck you deeper, and by now you’re babbling under him, head thrown back and incomprehensible moans on your lips.
“Fucking love your cock!” You moan as he continues to hit the spongy spot inside you.
Your thighs are quivering from how hard he’s fucking you, but you love it. All you can focus on his how the cook in your stomach is on the verge of snapping.
Wonwoo groans at the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on his cock. He pulls back a bit, watching in awe as the base of his cock gets coated in a thin white ring of cream. A broken moan tears from his throat as his cock starts to twitch and throb inside you. “Gonna come for me, baby?”
All you can do is nod stupidly as he lets out another groan from how tightly your pussy is. “Good girl.”
It only takes one more snap of Wonwoo’s hips for you to come undone and coat his cock with your cream. He moans along with you, hips still thrusting to fuck you through your orgasm.
Your glassy eyes stare up at him in your afterglow and you wonder if it’s the mind numbing orgasm singing through your veins or if Wonwoo has always looked so ethereal. 
“Fuck, kitten. All this for me? How cute.”
You can only whine pathetically when you realize Wonwoo is talking about the wet squelch that’s filling his office when his cock slams in your pussy. A string of broken whimpers tumble past your lips at how he’s pounding into your overstimulated cunt.
“So fucking tight, baby.” He breathes out heavily.
From his sloppy thrusts, you can tell me close. It makes you grin and purposely clench down on him. “Fill me up, professor.”
He thinks you’re kidding until you push away the hands that are still holding on to your legs. You stealthily wrap them around his waist so he won’t pull out. Wonwoo moans, unable to hold back his orgasm. You both moan as he dumps his cum into you, his hot seed filling you to the brim.
He slowly lets you go, and just as you think you’re done. Wonwoo flips you over so you’re on your stomach and bent over his desk. He groans at the sight of his cum leaking out of your cute little pussy.
You lay pliant and silent as Wonwoo folds your skirt up, his big hands kneading the globes of your ass in a gentle circle. Being the inpatient brat that you are, you wiggle your hips back until you bump against his damp cock. Wonwoo lets you rut your ass against his crotch for friction until he stills your hips with a click of his tongue. “So impatient, baby.”
“Only for you, babe.”
Wonwoo groans and spreads one ass cheek to the side and exposing your messy cunt to the air. You’re so pretty and wet for him, hole fluttering and glossy with your mixed release.
“Want me to fill your tight little cunt again?” Wonwoo asks patronizingly as he nudges the head of his cock between your wet folds.
You smirk against the cool wood of his desk. “Don’t act like you’re not dying to.”
Wonwoo can’t be angry when you arch your ass further against him in invitation. Not when he knows your words are true. Also, he finds it increasingly difficult to refuse you. His fingers curl around your waist and your body down his desk until he impales your little pussy on his cock. The stretch is painstakingly slow, forcing you to feel every inch, ridge,and vein dragging along your walls.
“Oh!” You moan wantonly. “Fuck me.”
“Look how well you take me. If only you would’ve kept your attention on me, I would’ve been nicer.”
You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or not, but you don’t fucking care. His big cock feels too good that it’s all you can think about.
Wonwoo groans in approval, watching the way your pussy expands as he draws back. He’s obsessed with the way your cunt sucks him in nice and tight as he plunges back into you. Being the insatiable little brat that you are. You start you bounce yourself back on his cock.
“Kitten.” He says through a strained moan. “What did I tell you—?”
His reprimand is cut off with a sharp grunt, his hips stuttering while you tremble and frantically fuck your cunt on his cock at a quick pace, the pleasure coiling in your lower belly faster than before. He smirks and decides to match your pace until you can’t take it anymore.
“So wet and perfect for me.”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Wonwoo start to slam into your spot at a brutal pace. The loud squelching from your pussy and your moans is all you can hear. It’s almost a miracle that no one has come to his office from all the noise you’re making.
“But I think.” Wonwoo grunts as the tip of his cock ventured deep into your cunt, intoxicating him with your tightness. “My bratty princess still needs to be taught a lesson.”
His deeps voice makes you shudder, and when you sink your nails into the hard woods, you feel large palms cover your smaller hands. Wonwoo links your fingers together before he starts pounding into you once again. He groans at the feeling of your hot cunt clenching down on him. So perfect and tight.
He fucks into you roughly until you’re wrapped around him so tightly that he can barely move. Wonwoo can tell that he’s fucked you stupid because all you can do is whine and moan about how big he is. It’s nonsensical babbling that doesn’t really make sense, but he loves every bit of it. All it takes is for you to cream on his cock for his own orgasm to hit. Your spasming walls make him thrust deeply into you, fucking his cum back into your walls relentlessly.
Once he can’t handle the overstimulation he gently pulls out of your sensitive cunt. You mewl softly, and Wonwoo feels like his heart is on the verge of exploding. He gently rubs his thumbs against the back of your hands before pressing a sweet kiss to the side of your head.
“Come on, baby.” He says gently as pulls you up from his desk. “Let’s get you home.”
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You’re not sure when you fall into an almost domestic routine with Wonwoo, but you’re too busy enjoying the bliss of fucking him to care. A giddy feeling blooms in your chest when you’re leaving your part-time job for the night and see your professor's sleek black car waiting for you. No matter how many times he’s waited for you, the warm feeling never dulls.
Within minutes of getting into his car, your back is brushing up against the steering wheel as you sit on Wonwoo’s lap. By now you’ve taken off your jeans and are only wearing an oversized sweatshirt that originally belonged to him. Of course, you’re also wearing the pair of lacy panties that he bought for you a while back.
“Fuck, kitten.” Wonwoo licks his lips as he lifts the material covering your clothed cunt. His cock twitches when he sees that the fabric is wet. “Did you know I was coming?”
The grin you give him makes him want to ruin you. “I was hoping you would.”
You’re so needy, but he loves it. And now he’s going to ruin you all over again.
Wonwoo loves the pretty little sounds you let out as you start to grind into his clothed cock. “You’re acting so needy. Does that mean you’re gonna behave tonight?”
You give him an impish grin and shake your head. It would be a cold day in hell if you were ever to be pliant for him. Wonwoo growls lowly, and before you know it, he’s pulling out his cock and dragging you up and down the length of it. “You feel that? It’s all for you, baby.”
Being the impatient brat that you are, you don’t wait for him to give you permission to sink down on to his cock and start bouncing on it. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, desperately holding on to him as if he could disappear right in front of you. His fat cock is stretching you out so much, and no matter how many times you’ve fucked already, you’re still not used to it.
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good. So tight.”
You let out a loud whine when Wonwoo starts to thrust up into you. All you can do is moan his name as your pussy spasms and clenched down on him as he grips your ass to help you fuck his cock.
“So fucking good.” You mewl as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot with every thrust.
The sound of skin slapping fills the car and all you can think about is how good you feel. It doesn’t matter that your arousal is leaking down to his balls and staining his pants. Your hot cunt feels too good. Wonwoo moves his hand down to toy with your clit, thumb pressing into it a bit as he starts rhythmically rubbing it with his thrusts.
Wanton moans spill from your mouth as you feel your orgasm approaching. Your fingers claw at his chest as you finally come, feeling the coil in your lower abdomen finally snap. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he goes as deep as he can before finally releasing his load into you.
As usual, Wonwoo keeps fucking into your wet walls, eager to fuck his cum back inside you. Your mixed release seeps down to the driver seat, but that’s the least of Wonwoo’s worries. He pounds into you harder, your cunt practically swollen now by how hard he’s fucking into you.
Finally, he slows his movement before completely stopping. He makes no move to detach from you.
“Will you spend the night with me?”
He asks so shyly and cutely that you can’t deny him. It’s not like you were going to anyway.
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“When am I gonna get fucked on cam?” You read the chat with a giggle.
“I don’t know.” You said as you smirk at the man behind the camera. “Whenever my boyfriend stops being so camera shy.”
Wonwoo bites his lip, smirking as you took off your bra. If it’s something you wanted, if course he would do it.
Because you’re his favorite.
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taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo
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bangtanficsforyou · 5 months
Text
They Reject You (maknae line)-03
Pairing: maknae line x reader (fuckboi! Jimin x Reader, Co-worker Taehyung x Reader, Idol Jungkook x Reader)
Warnings: swear words here and there.
Word count: 20K (approx)
A/N: long long long asf! (There's author's note at the bottom too).
Park Jimin
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Jimin may have been very determined while pledging that he will make things right but right now, he's utterly confused and clueless. 
How exactly does he make things right?
If he were to go by the way movies suggest, he should be sending you chocolates and bouquets of flowers. But the question is, will that do? Will that be enough? Can hurting someone emotionally be fixed by something material?
He doesn't know.
Oh, that's another thing. In recent days, Jimin's mind has been throwing questions at him which he has no answers to. Which, needless to mention, has been frustrating him to no end.
He feels like there's a lot he needs to figure out before taking any action. Because lord knows he doesn't want to mess up again and given his history he has a habit of doing exactly that over and over again. 
The question that has been bugging him the most is; why does he even want to fix things with you? 
It's a question Jimin wholeheartedly avoids thinking about. Because he doesn't have an answer and thinking about this particular question makes him feel a little too uncomfortable.
However, to him, the question also feels like a big empty blank that he needs to fill in order to make sense of what he should do next. Almost as if, if he figures out this one thing, he will have all his answers. 
Which again, doesn't make sense to him. How can figuring out one thing give answers to the rest? But again, he should begin somewhere. Which obviously isn't going to be answering the big question.
Hence he does what he has been doing for the past few days; searching for ways to apologise on YouTube.
It's quite obvious that his YouTube searches haven't been very successful. But in his defence, it isn't Jimin's fault. It's YouTube's.
Almost every video that YouTube suggests as a response to his search, has this implication that the girl being apologised to, is the lover of the person seeking forgiveness.  
Huh? 
But that's so not the case. You're not his lover.
At some point, Jimin got so frustrated that he went on a mini rant to Taehyung, about how this is the 21st century and how a boy and girl need not always have a romantic relationship. And it's while he's ranting via text that he is hit by the brilliant idea of inviting Taehyung over. After all, if there's someone who's better than Jimin when it comes to the ladies, it's Taehyung. 
Half an hour later, Jimin couldn't rush to the door any faster when the bell rang. 
Taehyung greets the troubled boy with a scoff of disbelief. "Never seen you this excited over my arrival, ever."
Jimin is the least bit interested in paying attention to his best friend's teasing. "You gotta help me. It's already been three days and I haven't been able to figure anything out."
"It's about making up to that girl, right?" On receiving a nod from Jimin, Taehyung continues, "What was her name again?"
"Y/N."
"Right, Y/N," Taehyung makes a note to himself, having a hunch it's a name he will hear quite often. "So where exactly are you stuck?" 
Jimin leads his friend to the couch so that Taehyung can have a look at the screen. "Just look at the results. There are literally thousands of responses but not one that's of use. What's the point of having internet if it can't help you when you need?!"
Taehyung snickers. "Yeah, you did go on a half an hour rant about it via text."
Jimin huffs at the way Taehyung seems to not share the same level of frustration as him. But alas, maybe him being in a light mood is a good thing after all. That way Taehyung can think optimally and come up with a solution and then Jimin can finally have a good night's sleep. 
Gosh when Jimin thinks about it, it sends shivers down his spine. He really needs to sleep. 
"Great! You know all about it, so now get on with it," Jimin speaks with a firm nod of determination and turns his body ninety degrees so that he is entirely facing Taehyung. 
And then just keeps staring. 
Taehyung stares back for a second or two and then bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard, that his ears miss the questions Jimin throws his way, querying about the cause of his laughter. He laughs so hard, that he has to place a pillow against his stomach because it has started hurting. He laughs so hard that it takes him a total of five minutes to stop. 
When he does stop laughing, he utters a sentence that sends Jimin into a similar laughter fit. 
"You're so in love."
Or maybe wait. 
Jimin doesn't laugh. 
Jimin blinks at Taehyung blankly and then scoffs in annoyance. Taehyung can't be serious. "I can't believe you're in the mood of making jokes when I'm so stressed."
"Oh, I can assure you, I'm not joking," Taehyung shakes his head with a chuckle, denying Jimin's words. "You're definitely in love."
Jimin pauses. He doesn't like how sure Taehyung seems to be of his words. It makes Jimin realise that Taehyung isn't joking. Taehyung really thinks Jimin is in love. 
Huh. 
"Don't you think I'd know if I was in love?" 
Taehyung snorts. "Clearly not."
Now Jimin's curious. "What makes you so sure of your words?"
"Hmm, let's think for a moment," Taehyung responds, pretending to think deeply for a moment. "You have been worried sick, haven't been behaving like yourself and are throwing tantrums like a five-year-old kid. All because a girl hasn't been talking to you–"
"That could simply mean she's a very good friend to me," Jimin counters even before Taehyung can finish his sentence. 
"Well, you don't kiss your friends while drunk." 
Jimin shuts up at that, not because he agrees with Taehyung's statement but because he needs a moment to figure out what to reply to that. He needs to think of something that is a justifiable reason for why he had kissed you in his drunken state of mind. 
Unfortunately, the best he comes up with is; "I didn't know what I was doing. I was drunk. Plus, me kissing someone shouldn't be news, drunk or not." 
Taehyung nods. "Right, that's your thing. Kissing and sleeping around."
For the first time in his life, Jimin feels an odd sensation in his chest at the mention of his player lifestyle. He can't place why (another thing he can't figure out, yes) but for the first time he wishes these words were not used to describe him. But admittedly, that's who he is. It's only normal to describe him by who he is. 
Jimin keeps quiet as a sign of letting Taehyung know that he can go on. 
"But surprisingly enough, since Y/N has stopped talking to you, you haven't fooled around with anyone," Taehyung squints his eyes, looking like a detective who's trying to solve a complicated riddle. "Wonder why that might be." 
Jimin misses the sarcastic tone completely because he's taken aback by his friend's words. It's only now that he realises that he indeed, has not fooled around with anyone in the last week or so. 
It's true that he has been going to parties and have been getting drunk and have been doing what he usually does. Except for one thing, it seems. Hooking up. 
Oddly enough, the thought of hooking up with someone didn't even occur to him. It's not like he restrained himself or something. It's like he forgot that aspect of his life, entirely. 
What the fuck.
Taehyung silently watches the realisation play out on Jimin's face. It's entertaining, to say the least. His sweet fuckboy of a friend is in love and has zero clue about it. How sweet. 
He only hopes Jimin comes to his senses while this denial is still sweet and not when it's all bitter and sour. But looking at the way Jimin is struggling, one thing is for sure and that is, he isn't going to get his 'happy realisation' just yet. 
"Your bulb will take time to light up," Taehyung interrupts Jimin's thoughts, "Let me just help you with the apologising thing."
---------------------------------------------------------------
Jimin has been standing in front of your door for five minutes now. With a huge flower bouquet at that. Because according to Taehyung:
"It's not what you give that matters, it's the thought you put into it. It could be flowers, it could be chocolates–yes I know, at the end of the day they are mere materials. But what's wrong with that?
You've gotta start somewhere. What's important is that you show her that you have realised your mistake, you're sorry and that you'd never do something like that ever again. Sending gifts is not all. It might not earn you her forgiveness but it shows that you're trying and that's something." 
Hence, despite not considering sending gifts as an option at first, here Jimin is, doing exactly that. But then it's not like he could come up with a better idea himself and he thinks Taehyung is right, he should at least start somewhere. 
But he wanted to make it as meaningful as he could. Which is why he did a little research and showed up here himself. He needs to do just one last thing, press the calling bell. 
He sighs and tells himself that there's no point in delaying it, the sooner he does it, the better. Plus, it only means that he will be able to see you after another three-day stretch. 
The thought of seeing you again, does it for him. He presses the bell and with a bated breath, waits for you to open the door. 
Thankfully, he doesn't have to wait long. You swing the door open and Jimin is relieved that your reaction on seeing him is that of surprise and not that of disdain. He would have run in the opposite direction and would have been too ashamed to face you had that been the case. 
Despite not running away, Jimin seems to have lost his capability to talk, for all he does is stare at your face. It gets to the point where you have to be the one to ask him what he's doing at your doorstep. 
Jimin looks away as soon as he snaps out of it and remembers what he's here for. He still doesn't speak and just pushes the bouquet in his hands towards you and urges you to take it. 
It's not like you hadn't noticed the bouquet, it's unmissable really. It's this big, gorgeous arrangement of pink roses and the lighting of the hallway falls on the flowers in a way that makes it look like a portrait. When Jimin tries handing over the bouquet to you, you're once again taken by surprise and out of instinct you take hold of the bouquet without a second thought. 
The moment Jimin knows that you have the bouquet, he takes a few steps back, bows to you and takes off. 
Well, guess he did run away, after all. 
You don't even get the time to question him as to why the sudden flowers as you stand there for a moment until you're sure that Jimin isn't coming back. With a confused sigh, you head back into your apartment. 
"I should put them in water," you mumble to yourself and rest the bouquet on your centre table. 
However, it's at this very moment that your eyes land on a piece of paper that seems to have been folded with great care and has been kept in such a way that it isn't visible from the front but only from the top. 
With a small frown of curiosity, you take the paper out with your fingers. On unfolding, you find a small printed note on the left side and a handwritten note on the right. 
The left side of the note read: "Pink roses signify gratitude, admiration and appreciation." 
The right side of the note read: "You're not the stupid one, I am."
There's a brief moment where you are clueless and you have to think as to what Jimin could possibly mean. However, it doesn't take long for you to figure it out as you're hit with the memory of letting Jimin know how he has made you feel for a very, very long time. 
One particular line sticks out and you have a hunch that his note refers to that.
"I felt so stupid to be hanging out with you when you couldn’t even pause and give me the minimum respect I deserve.”
Huh. 
Is...Is Jimin apologising? 
No way. 
After that day you had thought Jimin would either just stop talking to you or would just show up a few days later as if nothing ever happened. Never had you considered that he would choose to apologise. But apparently, that's exactly what he has decided on. 
Wow. This is way more surprising than the sun rising in the west. 
You do not doubt that he must have taken the help of some of his friends but that's only fair. You can imagine how hard it must be for someone like Jimin to apologise to someone. 
You shake your head in amusement and bring a vase filled with water to place the flowers in. 
Honestly, you hadn't thought much about Jimin since that day. The way you felt lighter after saying what you had wanted to for a long time, was incredibly freeing. You were also proud of yourself for finally standing up and for sticking to your decision to cut him off. It made you wish you had done it sooner. 
But now that Jimin is apologising, in his own way, you are a tad bit surprised that it doesn't throw you into a mental debate. That you don't have to battle yourself on what to do. 
Things are pretty clear in your head. 
You forgive Jimin. 
You had forgiven him long before he even sent you the flowers. With your bottled-up emotions out of the way, it gave you the clarity you needed to see things for how they were. 
You had always had a weak spot for Jimin. Jimin, not so much. You were just another girl to him. But the thing with having weak spots is that they make you vulnerable. 
But Jimin is Jimin. He has no clue about these kind of things. Does he? For you, to expect Jimin to understand the sensitivity of the matter, was basically setting yourself up for disappointment from the get-go. 
It's the same as looking for a mango in a banyan tree. It's fruitless. 
That does not mean, that you blame yourself. When emotions that are beyond your control, get involved, the practical mind is forced to take a back seat. Romantic affection is for sure one such feeling where one tends to lose their thinking and decision-making capabilities. 
You forgive Jimin. You also forgive yourself. 
Does that mean you'd be okay with being friends with Jimin, again? No, you cannot bring yourself to do that. 
The trust and faith you had put in him has been broken and that's enough of a reason for you to move on. 
So what is Jimin to you, now? 
Someone you still have a weak spot for because it's not like you wake up one day and suddenly all your feelings you harboured for a person disappears. But you know you want to move on. You know you do not wish to go back to sharing the same dynamic with Jimin ever again. 
And this time your decision does not come from a place of hurt, anger or frustration. This time it comes from a place of clarity and acceptance, which is also why it doesn't seem difficult to follow through with your choice. 
Nevertheless, you do appreciate Jimin giving you flowers. Although, you think there was no need for it. 
For a brief moment, you contemplate if you should be texting a thank you to him but then decide otherwise when you remember that you have blocked him. Even if it's for the short span of two minutes to send a text, you don't think you're ready to unblock him just yet. 
For the time being you simply settle for putting the vase at the top of one of your drawers and taking good care of them. 
----------------------------------------------------------------
The next day it was a bouquet of white flowers with a note that read: 
I'm sorry; on the left and I know flowers won't earn me your forgiveness but I'm trying; on the right.
It once again was Jimin at your doorstep and once again, before you could say anything, he had decided his job was done as soon as the flowers were in your hands. 
You were too flabbergasted as you had thought that the whole giving you flowers thing was only a one-time thing. You didn't think Jimin would show up for a second time, just the day after, to give you another massive bouquet. 
Maybe you should have seen the same thing happening on the third day but somehow you didn't and were just as surprised, if not more, when Jimin showed up with another bouquet on the third day. 
Before you could say anything, Jimin was gone. 
Which is exactly why you now find yourself unblocking his contact. 
You: hey
You: just letting you know I appreciate the flowers but you do not need to send them anymore 
You: I forgive you
Jimin is on the phone with Taehyung getting an earful about his cowardness and running, when he receives your text.
"I'm telling you, this flower thing is not going to work. She hasn't even tried to talk to me" 
"From what I have heard you are the one who has never allowed her to even open her mouth and–"
"Hold on, someone texted me," Jimin interrupts Taehyung solely to avoid getting called out for the umpteenth time. However, his eyes almost fall out of his sockets when he sees that it's you. "Tae, Y/N texted me!"
Taehyung, too, is surprised to hear this. "What did she say?"
Jimin takes a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he fills his lungs up with as much air as possible. "Right, I will open her messages." 
When he does read the words you have sent him, he is even more surprised. But even more so, he is relieved. Gosh, he feels like he could cry tears of joy. 
"She forgave me," Jimin speaks in a tone that is a little too loud for Taehyung's ears. 
However, Taehyung doesn't protest as his friend's words seem more important at the moment. "Are you serious? She did? What did she say?"
"She said that she appreciates the flowers and that I need not send them to her anymore and that she forgives me." 
Taehyung pauses for a moment and then grins brightly, the relieved and excited tone of his friend making him feel happy. "Then what are you doing fucker? Text her back, you idiot."
Jimin nods but then responds verbally when he remembers that Taehyung is over the phone and not with him in his room. "I'll text her back."
Saying so, he ends the call with Taehyung and starts typing. 
Jimin: Thank you
Wait. 
Thank you?
Should he say thank you? Is that the right response? But is sending a simple thank you good enough? 
He doesn't think so. 
Quickly deleting the typed words, he begins to think of a better response. 
If not thank you, then what? How about 'How have you been?' No, no, no. That sounds way too casual. 
He should send something that appears to be cool and that doesn't make things awkward. At the same time, he should text something that leaves room for a conversation. A proper one. 
Geez, texting is difficult. 
What if he tries teasing you like he did before everything happened? No, that would make it look like he never took the matter seriously. 
Should he...should he just be uncool and be honest for once? 
Should he just let you know that he feels like a bag of stones has been lifted off his chest and that he can breathe again? That he feels like he can think properly, again? 
That might be too much. 
But maybe he can just try letting you know that he's incredibly grateful for your forgiveness without sounding cheesy? Yeah, he can definitely do that. 
Jimin: Thank you.
Jimin: that word isn't enough but that's the best I have got 
Jimin: I am incredibly grateful and I promise I won't make you regret your choice. 
When you read his texts a few minutes later, you're rather surprised. Is Jimin saying these things? There's no way. 
But then you come to a conclusion that, there indeed is no way. Jimin must have made a friend of his type out these words. Now, that makes a whole lot of sense. 
You chuckle at the thought and react to his messages with a thumbs up and leave it at that. 
The moment Jimin sees you reacting to his messages, he types out another message, one that he has delicately crafted in his mind. Something light that hopefully will lead to a proper conversation.
Jimin: How have you been? 
Your phone pings and you notice Jimin's text. Something uncomfortable churns in your stomach at his words. Jimin most likely thinks things are back to normal and that you two will once again bicker and joke around in no time.
Guess, you need to break it to him. 
You: I've been fine 
You: but I would rather have us not go back to the way we were 
Jimin is already in the middle of forming another text that conveys that things won't be the same and that he'd do better but his heart literally breaks into pieces when he reads the next text. 
You: I don't think we should be in contact anymore 
You: it's a proven fact it doesn't do either of us any good 😂
You: especially me.
—--------------------------------------------------------
Jimin has decided to watch a movie. Not just any movie, the fault in our stars. Because he needs something to make him feel sad. Correction; he needs something that he is consciously aware of, to make him feel sad. 
It's much much more annoying when you get sad and heartbroken over something and yet you cannot explain why you feel that way. Imagine suddenly getting stabbed by invisible knives that you can't see but can only feel. Yeah, it feels the same. 
But who cares anyway? Jimin is watching a movie that will make him plenty sad and unlike you, it won't have him feeling like someone who hasn't been in touch with his emotions for ages. 
Taehyung munches on his popcorn slowly, his focus periodically shifting between Jimin and the TV screen. 
Taehyung knew something was up the moment Jimin texted him asking if he would like to watch The Fault in Our Stars. For the people who don't know, Jimin does not watch sad movies, like ever. Because irrespective of how much of a fuckboy he is, he is a huge softie on the inside (which is actually very cliche of him). But as his fuckboy-ness would have it, he absolutely hates crying. 
Taehyung does not believe that Jimin does not cry or that he tries to keep his tears at bay. Because from the few times that he has seen his friend crying, he knows that he isn't someone who's good at holding his tears back. So no, Jimin does cry and when he does, he cries like a baby. However, what Jimin ensures is that he does not cry in front of anyone.
But here's Jimin, crying in front of Taehyung. 
This boy is going to give me a headache, Taehyung thinks with a deep inhale as he once again shifts his focus from Jimin to the screen.
It must have been another fifteen minutes or so when he hears a small sniffle coming from his left. Huh, things haven't even turned that sad in the movie yet. 
Taehyung looks at his friend only to realise his suspicions are right when he notices his friend subtly wiping under his eyes. 
Taehyung takes hold of the remote and switches the TV off. 
He has had enough. 
Jimin looks at Taehyung with perplexed features but before he can ask a question, Taehyung is getting up from his seat to turn the lights on. 
This makes Jimin quickly grab a few tissues and wipe at the corner of his eyes. 
Taehyung rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Sometimes I can't tell if you're a drama queen or a little kid." 
Jimin looks at Taehyung with a clueless expression. As long as he pretends he has no clue what Taehyung is talking about, it should be good. 
Taehyung simply scoffs and shakes his head in defeat. "Do you want to talk about it or should I just leave?" 
This has Jimin facing away from Taehyung and he scowls at the centre table. "I have nothing to talk about."
"Cool then, I have some important work to do, I'll get going." 
"Sure do that. Leave me. Everyone does, why shouldn't you?"
Ah. Drama queen, it is. 
"So what Y/N left? Like did she leave you on seen or something? Is that why you're so sad and upset?" Taehyung guesses the possible cause of Jimin's state from his words. 
Jimin wishes it was that simple. He honestly would give anything for Taehyung's words to be right, for that being the cause of his sadness. But if only.
Taehyung deduces that things might not be that simple when Jimin does not give a verbal answer and appears to become more sulky. 
Taehyung makes his way to the couch and claims his previous seat next to Jimin. "What will you take to just tell me what went wrong? I know you're dying to let it out."
Jimin looks at his friend for a moment then suddenly reaches out to grab his phone from the table. He opens your texts and just places his phone in Taehyung's hands. 
With a small concentrated frown, he takes a look at the screen and goes through the chats. 
"So this is what has gotten you like this," he mumbles to himself.  "Have you tried talking to her and telling her that you won't be repeating the same things again?" 
Jimin shakes his head. "She never gave me the chance to do so."
Taehyung hums, deep in thought. "What do you want to do now?" 
"I don't think it matters."
"It does. Now tell me what do you want?"
Jimin looks up at the ceiling with blurry eyes. "I think I want us to go back to the way we were."
Taehyung, although wanting to, does not show the disbelief he feels at Jimin's words. He keeps his composure calm so that Jimin does not feel uncomfortable. "What you're saying is you want to go back to the way you would annoy her and she would put up with it?"
Jimin's spirit lifts just a little bit when he remembers how things were before and he finds himself absentmindedly nodding. 
"Which would also mean going back to the way you would keep sleeping around with people and then at the same time would make flirty comments towards Y/N?" 
The tiny little corner of his mouth that had lifted, once again turns into a scowl as Taehyung's words register in his brain. It's as if he's knocked into his senses. 
Noticing that Taehyung has successfully managed to grab Jimin's attention, he hopes he can only make Jimin see his point. "Honestly, Jimin have you ever realised where you went wrong? Or did you apologise to her solely because you thought that was what she wanted and that would have her back in your life?" 
Questions. Another set of questions. Jimin could honestly scream. But something about Taehyung's gaze makes him unable to run away from the queries like he has been doing all this time.
He considers Taehyung's words for a moment and then mumbles in a small voice, "I don't know."
Taehyung hums, having guessed that answer. 
"I just wanted to apologise to her because I know I have hurt her," Jimin keeps his tone soft and vulnerable. "I may not know all the ways in which I have hurt her but I know I should have respected her wishes and should have stopped flirting with her when she had asked."
"I may not know exactly how or why it affected her but I know it led her to be angry–" Jimin breaks off suddenly when a thought occurs to him and soon he looks even more ashamed, "–and they say all anger stems from hidden pain. If that's true then I must have caused her pain."
Taehyung releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. He wonders how his friend can be both stupid and smart at the same time and why exactly does his brain start working when the damage has already been done. 
"So you realise that you have caused her some sort of pain?" 
"I must have," Jimin agrees. 
"Have you then tried figuring out what exactly she means to you?" 
Jimin's tears have dried, thanks to the ongoing conversation that has distracted him enough to have the wheels of his brain running again.  
"She's someone I care about a lot and someone I want in my life." 
"As a friend?" Taehyung pushes. 
Jimin nods. 
Taehyung hums, "I think you really need to sit with yourself and think things through." 
—-------------------------------------------------------
Jimin is dumb and Taehyung is loyal.
Which is why the latter finds himself in the middle of a party, waiting for you to arrive. 
A week of Jimin moping and being a sullen child, had Taehyung take matters into his own hands. Jimin could not possibly figure things out by himself even if everyone around him could. Taehyung only hopes he will admit what has been brewing for a long time, when his feelings smack him right across the face. 
Taehyung leans against the bar counter, his eyes hardly moving from the entrance as he waits for you to walk through the door. 
It takes about another fifteen minutes of his eyes locked on the door, for you to finally emerge. 
Taehyung relaxes a breath. He had to do a lot of digging to find a common friend and for him to convince that common friend to somehow convince you to come to the party. He wasn't sure if all of this would work, but now that you're here, success is a step closer. 
He gives you five minutes to say your hi's and hello's and then, he's making his way to you. 
"And you must be Y/N?" 
You look at the guy who seems to know you by your name and frown when you don't recall ever having interacted with him. "And you must be?"
"Taehyung. Kim Taehyung."
Your brain clicks in realisation. Taehyung, a name you have heard Jimin mention many times. However, this is the first time that you get to put a face to the said name. 
"I have heard of you," you nod as a feeling of reluctance takes over you. Why is Taehyung approaching you? 
He smiles. "I'm not surprised by that."
You return his smile awkwardly and wonder what you should be saying next. "How do you know me?" 
"Let's just say I have heard of you as well," his smile turns into a full-blown grin as if he's enjoying this. 
"From Jimin?" 
"Ah yes. We both have an idiot named Jimin in our lives."
You feel your traitor heart get curious at the confirmation. Taehyung knows of you from Jimin? Jimin talked about you to his friends? The thought of that catches you with surprise as you never thought you were ever important enough to him, for him to do that. You thought you were just another girl who fell for him. However, your curiosity is soon overtaken by the thought of him making light and fun of your feelings.
"That idiot, however, speaks highly of you, which is why I just could not miss the opportunity to speak to you," Taehyung quips, sensing the thoughts inside your head. 
You look at Taehyung, wondering what to make of his words. You just find it difficult to believe that Jimin speaks highly of you. One speaks highly of the people they respect and well—no, you don't want your mind to wander there.
"So you're here speaking to me, to verify the things Jimin has said about me?" You keep your tone light, playful and teasing, so as to not come off as rude. While, on the inside, you're really confused as fuck as to what to make out of this. Does Taehyung not know of the recent changes in the dynamics between you and Jimin? 
"Oh no, absolutely not," he shakes his head. "I do not doubt a thing Jimin has said about you. I'm only here out of sheer curiosity and with the intent to get to know you better."
And some ulterior purposes. That part he leaves unspoken. 
You observe him for a moment and relax a little when you realise that he seems genuine. You don't know, why he's here and what he wants from you, but you decide talking to him won't be of any harm.
—---------------------------------------------------------
Jimin is grumpy as fuck when he walks in and is greeted by the loud music that blasts through the speakers. Goodness, why did he enjoy partying, again? 
He really wouldn't be here had it not been for Taehyung's constant nagging that he had something important to say, and that couldn't be done unless he attended the party. 
Technically, his words made zero sense. Taehyung couldn't just say whatever important thing he had to say, over the phone? Apparently, according to him, he couldn't. 
He prays to whatever god is out there, for the sake of Taehyung that he finds him soon. 
The universe, however, has other plans. 
Jimjn spots you before he spots Taehyung. He sees you smiling wide and even in the dimmed lights, he can see the way your eyes shine with amusement and joy. As selfish as it is, Jimin feels any amount of hope he might have had, leave at the sight. You're clearly doing fine without him. A part of him wishes you weren't. 
It feels eerily similar to the time when he had spotted you on his way to class. 
But then he realises you are with a guy. A strange emotion fills him, one that he believes he hasn't felt before, ever. He realises he's jealous. He's so jealous of the lucky bastard who's getting to make you laugh and with whom you seem so comfortable with. With that jealousy, comes a huge wave of insecurity. The guy doesn't seem to have messed up like Jimin did. He doesn't seem to be someone you feel the need to cut off your life. All of which Jimin has done and is. 
However, when the light falls on the face of the said guy, Jimin is hit with a sense of anger and confirmation that the said guy is much, much better than Jimin is. 
Taehyung is smart, has a good sense of humour and surely knows more when it comes to matters of the heart. Whereas, Jimin has only been confused and no matter how hard he has tried, he has been unsuccessful in clearing up the cloud of confusion. 
For a brief moment, he is taken back to the words Taehyung had said to him–you're so in love–which Jimin had found utterly ridiculous at the time. However, now that he finds himself in the hold of jealousy and a brewing insecurity that only you hold the power to put a stop to, he doesn't find the idea as absurd. 
He's never been in love before. But somehow he is still hit with the realisation that all his desperation, anger, jealousy and insecurities stem from one thing and one thing only. His love for you. 
He is hit with more and more clarity with each passing moment as he stares at you. An overwhelming urge to make you his, washes over him and with strong, determined steps, he walks in the direction where you chat with Taehyung. 
The moment the two of you realise Jimin's presence, your smile falters whereas Taehyung's widens.
"Jimin," you whisper, caught completely off guard. 
"Y/N," he greets you back. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."
"Me neither," you mumble in a small voice. 
"How have you been?" 
Neither of you miss the fact that this was the very same question he had asked via text, to which you had made it clear that things would never be the same, instead of actually answering him. 
However, now that you both stand in front of each other, you think it would be incredibly rude to not answer him. "I'm fine." 
Your short answer leaves no further room for conversation and it's only when you realise that Jimin refuses to avert his eyes from you, that you ask him back the same question. 
"I've been anything but fine," Jimin answers, without missing a beat. 
His answer is similar to yours in terms of being short and vague. However, his response means exactly the opposite of yours. 
You stifle the question that's on the tip of your tongue and push away the overgrowing concern at his answer. This is exactly why you had chosen to end whatever friendship you two had over text. You were unsure of the feelings Jimin would stir within you. Sure, you have made the choice of moving on from him but there was no denying that you haven't moved on yet. 
You nod and think it would be best to include Taehyung in the conversation. He would surely know how to break the tension. However, you realise at the same time as Jimin does that Taehyung has disappeared into thin air. 
Taehyung's gone, you think with surprise and disbelief, having no clue when he left. 
Taehyung's gone, Jimin thinks, beaming with glee and satisfaction. 
"Do you want a drink?" Jimin asks, having no intention of leaving. 
"I could actually do with some alcohol," you mumble mainly to yourself, but somehow despite the loud music, Jimin manages to hear you. The very next moment he has two drinks in his hands and gracefully offers you one.
"I have a few things to say," he says after a few sips.
Oh god. Please be kind to my heart. You stay quiet. You were not prepared to face Jimin. After texting him that day, you had honestly thought that was it. It was hard for you to send him those words. So incredibly hard. But you knew it was for the best.  
A part of you had wished for Jimin to regret losing you. But you knew that thought to be impractical. You knew in reality, Jimin must have slipped into someone's bed instead of giving you a second thought. You had honestly thought Jimin's attempt at apologising with flowers was merely a result of his hurt to the ego. Nevertheless, you appreciate his effort and know better than to have any further expectations from the man. 
However, this is incredibly confusing. More so, because the Jimin who was sending you those flowers would run away right after he knew that the flowers had reached their destination. However, this Jimin, stands in front of you with eyes locked with yours, refusing to back down. 
"I had sent those flowers to you, because I knew I had to apologise. I knew I messed up. I knew I hurt you. Don't get me wrong, the knowledge that I had hurt you was enough of a slap on my face, but I didn't know what it felt like for you," he takes a pause, "but now I do."
Jimin is aware that comparing what he has put you through with what he felt for merely a few minutes after seeing you with Taehyung, is completely unfair. However, it'd be fair to say he has got a taste of his own medicine and he fucking hates himself to have you put through that, over and over again. 
"I know now, because–," he takes a deep breath, afraid you won't believe him, "–I have come to the realisation that I'm in love with you."
Your pupils dilate in shock and after a brief moment, your expressions morph into that of disbelief, much like Jimin had expected. 
"I don't expect you to believe it. I know I haven't done much to earn your trust. All I ask is for you to give me a chance to prove myself."
You're too shocked to make coherent thoughts. As a matter of fact, the severity of Jimin's words doesn't click in your brain. How can it, when you have seen it for yourself how appalled Jimin feels at the thought of commitment? How can you digest the thought of Jimin saying these words, that too, to you? 
"What do you want, Jimin?" You ask wanting the interaction to be cut short, afraid that the longer you stay in his presence the more you will find yourself inclined to believe his words. 
"Let me take you out on a date." 
Kim Taehyung
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I'm in a relationship.
You absent-mindedly stare at the words on your screen as you feel the mix of emotions resurface yet again. 
Taehyung is in a relationship. The Taehyung you love so dearly, is in a relationship. And if you are to go with his status updates, he's quite happy about it as well. 
How do you feel about it, exactly? 
You feel betrayed, hurt, confused, angry, perplexed, sad, annoyed, embarrassed, lonely, frustrated, upset. These emotions are only a few to name. There's so much you think and believe, you still haven't figured out yet. Anytime, you try to focus on your emotions in hopes that you will be able to let it all out, all you come up with is an empty feeling. 
That's another thing. You haven't cried at all. But you want to. You want to just let all of it hit you at once and get it off your chest. Because the heavy uncomfortable feeling that often stirs your heart is not something you wish to deal with for long. 
Sometimes your mind comes up with all the little things and moments that had made Taehyung so special to you and you find yourself this close to breaking into uncontrollable sobs. But then it just never happens. It's like someone is pressing the accelerator and the brake at the same time and you're just there, frozen in time, not knowing what to do. 
You doubt if you have even fully grasped the concept of Taehyung being in a relationship. The thought that he's in one and you got to learn about it only after he committed, that too through a WhatsApp status, is completely unbelievable to you for some reason. No matter how much you try, a part of you doesn't want to believe it.
It's a whole set of emotions you never thought Taehyung would make you feel. He was your feel-good person, one of your best friends and someone you trusted with your entire heart. It's something you don't even know as to how to react to. 
"Y/N!"
You blink back to reality when someone shakes you by your shoulders. "Huh?" 
"You zoned out again."
"Oh," you speak in a tone of realisation, "I'm sorry–"
"Nothing to apologise for. Just forget whoever that guy is. He's surely not treating you right if you have this conflicted look on your face all the time."
If only it were that easy. You wish it was that easy. 
You chuckle at your next desk co-worker, Shanaya's, words. "I will surely contemplate on your words." 
"Men don't deserve shit from us if they treat us like shit," she nods seriously. "And with the way, you have had this sad-confused look in your eyes for a whole week now, I strongly doubt that man is any good for you."
Oh yeah, it's been a week.
Although, you could have been fooled by how the admittance of his relationship remains the last text exchanged between the two of you. You just didn't know how to respond to him at that time. You were too busy absorbing the shock to think of a proper response. 
You had just shut your net off and tried your hardest to fall asleep. But you just couldn't get a blink of sleep and since then you also couldn't bring yourself to pretend to be fine with him, when you were far from it.
Maybe you had posted your status a little too frequently to subtly let him know that you're online and well-active on your socials but are simply choosing to not talk to him. On the other side of the coin, is the fact that you feel disheartened that he hasn't made any effort to talk to you. It's the longest the both of you have gone without talking to each other. 
A hand waves in front of your face gaining your attention as your co-worker looks at you knowingly. 
"See! Not good for you."
You smile at her words and shake your head softly, amused by her straightforward and direct nature. 
—-----------
"How are you?"
You roll your eyes before replying. "I'm fine, I'm fine."
"Hmm," your best friend hums. "On a scale of 1 to 10?"
"Idk man, 7?"
"That's an improvement," she speaks to herself. "Now tell me, have you blocked Taehyung, yet?"
"I won't do that," you reply softly with a tone of surety. 
She sighs over the phone. "Babe, he's a dick. Why haven't you cut him off yet, is beyond me."
Your best friend is of the kind whom if you call crying, she'd ask you to first get rid of the person who's responsible for your tears and then she will allow you to tell her what went down for you to cry. If only she were in the same city as you, she'd have committed the crimes herself instead of having to beg you to do them. 
She's protective of you, incredibly so. 
When you had told her everything about Taehyung, she had muttered to herself something along the lines of how she knew he was gonna turn out to be a dickhead. You never queried her on that because in a way you knew what she meant. 
On learning about the situation you and Taehyung were in and about his unwillingness to be in a relationship, she was very firm about making her point that Taehyung was only making excuses. She was adamant that a person who really loves you wouldn't come up with reasons as to why they shouldn't be together. At the time, you had acknowledged what she was trying to say but you added that sometimes people get scared and fear often turns out to be an emotion that is rather difficult to overcome.
With much reassurance from your side that Taehyung was a great guy, she had let go of the topic. However, to say that Taehyung has now earned the entirety of your best friend's hatred, would be an understatement. You'd have been really concerned about his safety had she been in the city. 
"He–", you pause briefly, "–isn't a bad guy." 
Your friend scoffs. "Right. He's the worst."
"He is nice," you say a little more firmly. 
"Oh! Yes please, someone please give him a Nobel prize for his niceness!"
To your surprise the tone in which she speaks, makes you burst out laughing. "You really hate him, don't you?"
"Has he ever given me a reason to NOT despise him?" 
You chuckle as your laughter dies off. "Well, I don't blame you. I'd hate the guy as well if I was in your place."
"Hah! So you agree on something with me."
"But," you emphasise on the word, "he's not a bad guy. I don't know how everything turned out to be this way but trust me he has a very tender heart."
"I cannot believe you're making excuses for him, Y/N." 
Her surprisingly soft tone serves as a reminder that your best friend is probably one of the most compassionate and understanding people you've ever met. The only time you've seen her behave like an angry child who's ready to throw some punches, is when you get hurt. 
And admittedly, you're the same way when it comes to her.
"I'm not making excuses for him, I know him. He'd never intentionally hurt someone."
"But he did hurt you!!!"
"I know and I doubt he realises it," you sigh. "But I need to know his side of things."
"I'm sure he will run if you try to confront him," she grumbles. "He'll probably not even reply if you tell him how much of a dick he's been."
"Heyyy," a childish whine escapes your lips. "I have more faith in him than that. He respects me enough to talk things out."
She makes a sound of complete disbelief, "You bet my ass he would just pull stuff out of his ass."
"We will see," you chuckle.
You had to make up your mind sooner or later and somehow the conversation with your best friend has reminded you of the faith you have in Taehyung. If you need answers, you're sure he'd give them. Most importantly, you don't plan on losing the friendship you have with him this easily. But you don't think you'd be able to just push everything aside and pretend that things are fine. You need to clear it out. You need for him to realise that he has hurt you and you need to know how things changed so quickly. 
—————————————————————
You: hey 
It took you another day to get the simple three-letter word out of your system. But you do it the very first thing in the morning after waking up. Whatever roller coaster ride of emotion it is going to take you on, you want it over by today. 
Thankfully, it takes only ten minutes for your phone to ping to notify you of a message from Taehyung. 
Tae 🐻: hello, birdie 👋
A snort escapes you when you imagine all the lovely cuss words that would leave your best friend's mouth if she were to learn of his response to your 'hey'.  
You, too, find yourself being amused yet disappointed at how oblivious he seems to be. 
You: I'm sorry for not responding to your texts any sooner
Chewing on your lower lip, you click on the send button. While this text is meant to serve as an apology, it also serves as a means for you to know whether he really is as clueless as he seems. You're curious if he's at least aware that something must have been wrong for you to not text for this long.
Tae 🐻: It's okay, don't worry. I understand!
Tae 🐻: work can get busy 
Tae 🐻: it's fine! 
Sighing, you realise it's fruitless. You need to be upfront as there's no other way for you to go about it. 
You: uhmm thanks 
You: but before we catch up and all that, can I just get a few things off my chest?
Tae 🐻: sure! Go ahead. 
Suddenly you find yourself feeling anxious. You are not quite sure how this is going to turn out and how you're going to put your emotions into words. It sure appears to be a difficult job considering how muddled your brain feels every time you think about the events that have led to this.
You:  i don't really know how to say what i want to say lol
You: this is so awkward
Tae 🐻: just say it
Tae 🐻: it's the same ol' me after all
Some of your anxiety softens at his words. 
You: i know but i just dk how to say it 😂
Tae 🐻: that's okay
Tae 🐻: would it be more comfortable for you if I were to go offline? and I can check your messages when you give me the green signal to open your texts? 
Now that he mentions it, you think that would be lovely. That way you could take your time figuring out how to word your sentences without having the rush of typing things out fast over the worry of him coming to assumptions before you say the full thing. 
You: that'd be great! 
You: thank you! 
Tae 🐻: well then, I'll go offline. You speak your heart out 😌
You: open my texts only when you see a thumbs up or a message that directly asks you to open it. Okay?
Tae 🐻: done 👍
Sighing, you relax on your sofa and think. Now that he's offline, you need to figure out what to say. Rather, where to start because you just have so much to say. 
It takes you another two or three minutes before you start typing. 
You: so idk how this is gonna sound or how it's gonna get interpreted but I really need this out of my chest for it's been bothering me the last few days. 
You: so ummm, you know we both had openly admitted to having feelings for each other and then you told me you weren't really ready for a relationship? And I agreed to things being the way they were because I never wanted to pressurise you. I always wanted to be a friend first, whom you can trust and feel safe with, more than anything else. 
You: it's true that we never had a name for what we were. But it's because of that very reason that it always remained very confusing to me as to where we stood. Especially where you stood. 
You: i always could have asked in the course of the year as to where we stood but i always let you be because i was cautious that asking you, would in a way, pressurise you. 
You: however, that is not to say that i wasn't put in a dilemma when i would get propositions for going out on dates or when someone would ask me out. 
You: i didn't know where your feelings for me lied. While I avoided any assumptions, i also didn't act as if you did not have feelings for me. Because what if you did and then my actions hurt you? I knew how much you have been hurt in the past and i just didn't want to add to that. 
Your fingers pause as you take a look at what you have covered so far. When you go through your last two texts, you go awry at the thought of sounding like someone who's claiming to have done him some huge favour. 
You: I'm not saying all this to say that i have done you a huge favour or something by the way. Or that you owe me something in return. 
You: I'm just saying this because when you're so cautious and thoughtful over someone, it hurts to be on the receiving end of actions that make you feel incredibly stupid. 
You: it would have been better if you had told me, you know? That "hey, there's this girl i like," and I'm not saying in a way that you had to take my permission or something but just that it would have been nice to know that you thought of me and of what kind of an effect it would have on me. 
You: I just wish I didn't have to learn from a WhatsApp status 
You pause before thinking if you have missed anything. When you go through your words, you realise that you indeed have missed something important. 
You see, in the mix of all the heavy emotions, you also are happy. You're happy for him. That's something you realised the very day you learned about his relationship. It's odd but even in the midst of all the confusion you were feeling, a part of you felt glad.
You were glad that he found someone he loves and someone who makes him happy. You also found yourself excited on his behalf. 
You won't lie, you were surprised that you weren't jealous. Before Taehyung, for a long time, you had hardly had any guy in your life except for fleeting crushes. Even then, you can acknowledge the fact that jealousy is a very natural emotion to feel in this scenario. However, when you realised that you were happy for him and that happiness did not originate from a place where you had to force it, you were also proud. 
To you, there's no greater testimony of your love than that. 
You: i don't think i have mentioned this before but I'm really happy and excited for you.
You: go ahead and open your texts ig 😂
There are questions in your mind that you think would have been better had you asked them. Questions as to how he was unwilling to be in a relationship when it came to you but suddenly found himself being in a relationship a year later? 
However, you decide that's something you'd rather not ask. 
When you think of it, you indeed find it unfair and there's perhaps that hint of anger that bubbles in your stomach. But you recognise that there's no purpose in asking that question. 
It's possible that his feelings for her run deeper than they ever did for you. Or it could be the fact that they work together and it's human that you'd grow close to someone who's there with you physically rather than someone whom you only talk to over the phone or via texts. 
But figuring out the why is none of your business. Neither is it something you're concerned with. Whatever the reason might be, he's in a relationship and he has already made a choice. The why is irrelevant now. 
Another reason, the why is irrelevant to you is because, you have never found yourself thinking along the lines of what you could have done differently for him to stay and choose you. You have never wondered if it was something you lacked. You'd never let yourself think that way for anyone. Once upon a time, you did. You were filled with insecurities and would question yourself anytime someone would hurt you or leave you. But you have overcome that and have learnt to love yourself. You'd never undo all that progress by entertaining those thoughts ever again. Even if it's Taehyung. 
Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen letting you know Taehyung is typing. His text soon arrives making your breath hitch. 
Tae 🐻: I have read your texts. Give me some time, and I'll reply to them. 
So you'll have to wait. 
It's fair you think, he can take the time he needs, to figure out what he has to say. 
You only hope you can get over this soon. 
—--------------------------------------------------------
It's been an entire day since Taehyung said he'd reply to your texts but unfortunately, he hasn't yet. 
You know he will reply, you have that faith in him but you only wish he'd do it sooner. There's that lingering anxiety that comes with being unable to predict what he's going to say. 
You have also been wondering if you have worded your words correctly. You found yourself worrying what if you came across as jealous and as someone who's unhappy for him? You really hope you didn't sound bitter because you aren't. 
Yes, there's a part of you that is sad because the moments that you thought were special for the both of you, were all in your head. Because you loved him.
There's also this feeling that now you have been replaced. That now, things won't ever be the same. Perhaps, a part of you wishes you could stay in your head a little longer and pretend. 
But all of that aside, you also have immense amounts of trust in the friendship you both share. Taehyung is someone who is incredibly kind and loving, and he's a great friend in general and you're sure that both of you would somehow manage to keep your friendship intact.
Penny: Has he replied yet? 
You look down at the screen to find a text from your best friend.
You: no 
You: not yet 
Penny: huh told you
Penny: he's a dick 
You smile and shake your head.
Knowing you have a long day ahead, you cook yourself a plate full of breakfast and get ready for work. In a way, you're glad that there's work to keep you busy. You do not know what you'd have done had it been a Sunday. You'd probably have been restless as fuck and would have been checking your phone every five minutes.
Thanks to your workload, you only get time to check your phone during lunch. However, the workload doesn't help with the disappointment you feel, when each time that you do check your phone and find that there's no new message from Taehyung. The disappointment only increases when you realise he has put a status about some funny fact regarding hyenas. 
Whatever he sends you as a response to your texts, it better be good to have you kept waiting this long. 
—--------------------------------------------------------
It's nine in the evening and you're at home when you finally receive Taehyung's text. Your anxiousness is overpowered by curiosity and impatience as you click on his message. It's a wordy and lengthy one. 
Tae 🐻: I was confused, Y/N. Very confused. Although I had confessed my feelings to you, I was extremely confused and scared to take a step forward. When things with Kira ended, I was lonely and sad and my thoughts were very self-destructive. I had zero self-confidence. Talking to you, spending time with you, and texting you gave me the greatest joy and it acted as an escape from those thoughts, feelings and difficulties I was facing at the time. However, if you ask me now, where my feelings originated from, I wouldn't be able to tell. Were they genuine or a result of my love-starved state, I wouldn't be able to tell. But I'm glad it did as it helped me move on from the grief that accompanied my breakup. You have no idea how much you helped me at the time and I was selfish enough to take all of it, without thinking of the consequences, one of which was falling for you. This conversation we are having now is one which we should have had long ago. But I was scared that me not taking the step forward and telling you all this, would make you lose interest in me. Instead, I kept you hanging. I thank you for always being such an amazing friend. I have always loved you but I was too scared to put the tag of a relationship. I mistook my infatuation as readiness for being in a relationship. I'm guilty of all the things you mentioned but I don't know what to do to make things right, as I really don't want to lose the friendship we have. With all that I have done, you'd obviously think that I don't care about you, or at least not as much as you do, but trust me, I do. I have just been shit at expressing my gratitude and telling you how much you mean to me. I'll do better. I just hope you have it in your heart to forgive me for my mistakes. Thank you.
Something that you have been really hoping for, finally happens. You cry. 
Fat, angry droplets of tears roll down your face and you close your eyes shut as the searing pain spreads in your chest. 
Everything just feels so final and also so fruitless. 
Three little dots appear at the bottom of the screen and you realise that Taehyjng must have noticed that you have read his message. 
Tae 🐻: say something
Tae 🐻: this is making me anxious 😅
Despite your blurry vision and him being the cause of your pain, you feel the need to put him at ease. 
You: i appreciate you being honest with me 
You: I'll reply properly in a while 
You: just let me have a good cry first 
The petty part of you wants him to know that you're crying, you want him to know how hurt you are. 
Tae 🐻: Y/N?
Tae 🐻: are you okay?
You don't reply, not having it in yourself to lie.
You let your tears flow as you cry silently.
It's too much for you. You feel used. You feel like a rebound. You feel like a bridge he walked on to reach his destination and to move on from his past. Your heart feels walked all over. Your love feels irrelevant. 
It's true that you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted him to move on from the hurt caused by Kira. You wanted him to feel good about himself. All because you loved him. But you never thought your love was so disposable to him. That it would only be the means for him to move on to someone else. 
What's worse is, despite all of that you understand. You understand that it wasn't a conscious choice of his to hurt you. He, himself, wasn't aware that he was using your love to heal himself. 
It's worse because a part of you feels bitter and angry. If you were the one who helped him get over his hurt, shouldn't he show at least a bit of loyalty to you? You feel angry because he didn't communicate, he left you in the dark and just assumed that you must have been detached enough from your feelings for you to not be bothered by his new relationship. But then a part of you understands that as well. 
With Taehyung, it's a tug of war where you want to be mad at him and feel betrayed by him but no matter what, your love for him makes you see things from his point of view. 
In a way, you find it surprising as well because you never realised just how deep your love runs. Seeing their side of things despite the hurt they have caused? Isn't that love at its purest? However, that makes you ache in pain as well. You loved him as your own. Only to realise that his love for you was merely an infatuation.
His love for you was shallow. 
You think it would have been better if he were an asshole whom you could just hate. It would have been easier for you because you'd know he wasn't worth your time. But how do you handle all of this when he's one of your closest friends? 
That's a question you'd probably need time to answer. You need time to let the stinging pain in your chest subside. You need time to let yourself process the silent heartbreak you're going through. 
With shaky hands and blurry vision, you block Taehyung. 
—--------------------------------------------------------
Last Friday of every month, all your colleagues go out to have dinner and drinks together. You enjoy accompanying them because honestly, it is nice and fun, almost like a little treat to yourself. However, this week, you're not really sure you'd like that. You don't have the energy to socialise.
One might argue that with recent events in mind, the best thing to do would probably be just that, to socialise, as it would take your mind off things that have been bugging you. But then you have always been the type who needs energy to socialise rather than the kind who energises themselves from socialising. 
You have almost completed packing your bag when someone taps on your shoulders. 
"You're coming with us today, right?" Shanaya queries, having a suspicious glint in her eyes as if she's already aware of your plans of not joining. 
Shaking your head softly, you confirm her suspicions. However, Shanaya is having none of that.
"You have to come," she insists, sounding determined. "It's my birthday treat."
You're thoroughly surprised at the information. "It's your birthday today? Oh my god, I'm so sorry–"
"It's not today, it's tomorrow," she cuts you off. "But tomorrow is off so it's an early birthday treat."
She looks at you with such pleading eyes that you cannot bring yourself to say no to her. Reluctantly you smile and the next thing you know, you're being wrapped in a warm hug. 
"Yay, thank you," she squeals, excited. "Now common, let's go."
As it turns out, today's destination is one stop away. Usually, you all go to someplace that's near and doesn't require transportation. However, Shanaya wanted to take all of you to a particular place that, according to her, serves the best dumplings and noodles. Who can say no to Shanaya, anyway?
As you sit there and wait with the others for the bus to arrive, you look at the screen with Taehyung's conversation open. 
It's only yesterday that you unblocked him. You were well aware that you'd be unblocking him and talking to him again at some point. The friendship was too precious for you to let go. And it's not something you're saying simply because you love him. If you were to look back, Taehyung has never been a bad friend to you. He's been there for you whenever you needed. He has never let you down when it comes to friendship. 
However, you doubt you're ready to talk to him just yet. That doesn't mean you don't want to.
There's just so much that you have to tell him. The little things that have occurred over the course of the two weeks that you had him blocked. Everything feels a little incomplete unless shared with him. 
Your fingers hover over his profile picture and you hesitate to click on it. He has uploaded a new profile picture and you wonder if it is too weird to just stare at it.
"Y/N?" 
The sound of your name startles you and while trying to hide your phone screen, you accidentally end up clicking on the small call button right next to the profile picture. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. 
You cut the call immediately and stare at the screen which now shows his name at the top of your call logs. He's gonna see a missed call from you, shit. 
"The bus is here, Y/N."
Oh right, that must be why Mike had called for you. You quickly gather your thoughts and get on the bus, shying away from the worried look Shanaya throws your way. 
When you get a seat on the bus, the first thing you do is shoot him a text. You indeed are not ready to talk to him but your accidental call has ruined your plans. 
You: I'm so sorry
You: i called you by mistake
You know it will probably be a while until he sees your call and your text and it's a good thing that you have your co-workers to accompany you. That way you'd be distracted enough to not fret about it unnecessarily. 
All of you get down when your stop arrives and make your way inside the small restaurant. 
The chatter and the giggles and the latest gossip about your boss is enough for you to temporarily ignore the sinking sadness that sits at the pit of your stomach. 
"Y/N, drinks?"
Your colleagues are well familiar with the answer to this question. You don't prefer drinking. The reason behind that, however, is not known to them.
Like the majority of people, you enjoy getting drunk and letting it loose. However, you're the kind of drunk who gets giggly and finds every little thing amusing. And for some reason, you feel comfortable to let that part of you out, only in the presence of a few people. Four, to be exact. 
One, your best friend. Two, Min Yoongi. Three, Lee Sana. And four, Kim Taehyung. 
Needless to say, you hardly ever get the chance to get drunk. 
The usual answer rests on the tip of your tongue, but there's also this desperation for you to let go of the heaviness. You really could do with some giggles and amusement.
"I'd probably have some whiskey," you reply with a shy unsure smile as your colleagues cheer.
The night somehow refuses to come to an end as you all soon find yourselves seated on the floor of Kate's apartment, in a circle. It starts off with some dancing and then Nitesh takes up the guitar and starts singing. He's a good singer, you can appreciate that and everyone's having fun with big smiles on their faces as they clap along with the beats. 
You have had three shots so far and for the love of god, you still feel that melancholy. It heightens when you realise you're sad in such a fun environment. Despite wanting to join them in their fun, your mind keeps wondering what it would be like if Taehyung were here. Gosh, it's been so long since the both of you have hung out and truthfully, it has never bothered you before. Whatever communication you two had was more than enough for you. Sharing the little details about your day, sending him silly stickers, all that held more meaning to you than he probably ever realised. That was much more intimate to you than anything physical.
You shake your head to yourself when you realise you're here being sad over a guy who wasn't even your boyfriend. It's so ridiculous. 
But then again, despite the lack of a label, you were loyal to him with your entirety.
Geez, the alcohol seemingly has made you more sensitive. 
"You sure are having fun," Shanaya comments. "I'm assuming the alcohol didn't help much?"
It doesn't take rocket science for someone to figure out that if a person who's never said yes to drinks before suddenly willingly says yes to them, there must be some pain they are trying to numb. 
"Surprisingly, no."
She hums. "Wanna talk about it?" 
Shanaya has asked this question to you multiple times over the span of the last few days. Never has it made you feel as if it's coming from a place where she is prying for details. It has only made you feel as if she's letting you know she's all ears, whenever you need her. Each time, you have shrugged as if it's not a big deal, as if it's not important enough for you to talk about. However, now, you really could do with a shoulder to cry on.
Hence, you vent and even amid all the noise and music, she intently listens to your words without interrupting even once. 
When you finish, she releases a heavy sigh. "That's what you meant when you said it was complicated."
You chuckle at the reminder of the response you had given to your then-new co-workers, to being asked about your love life. You were so cautious of hurting Taehyung, having no idea that it was going to be him, hurting you.
"Do you plan on being friends with him?" 
You don't miss the edge her tone has, as if she believes it's not worth it. Either that, or she thinks it's not possible to be friends with someone who's hurt you like that.
"I do," your reply is instantaneous. 
"Don't you feel angry?"
"I do," of course you are angry. It would be absurd if you were not. 
"Are you sure that is a good idea?"
You're not. You know the dynamic between you and Taehyung would never be the same again. Things would be different. You have now realised that things which meant a lot to you, perhaps never held the same meaning to him. The dynamic is bound to change. But is that good enough of a reason to cut your friendship off?
"He's only a human. People fall in love and sometimes, they fall out of love. I do not control the way he feels and when it comes to love, I don't think any of us have a control over who we fall for or when we fall," you release a sigh. Maybe it's all the more difficult for you because you still love him despite everything. "He's not in the wrong for falling for someone just because it's not me. I wish he would have not kept me in the dark but we all make mistakes, we all mess up."
"But more importantly, he's a friend first and he's always been an incredible friend to me. Now, I wouldn't be a good friend if I were to ever entertain the idea of making him choose between me and his happiness, would I?" 
She remains quiet for a moment, observing you closely. "Do you mean all that you said?"
You nod. 
She chuckles. "Well then, you have one of the purest hearts I have ever come across."
—--------------------------------------------------------
You were aware that there were unread texts from Taehyung but had refused to open them until morning. The night was exhausting and more than anything, you wanted to sleep. However, when morning came rolling, there was no avoiding opening his messages. 
Tae 🐻: why are you suddenly being so formal? 😂
Tae 🐻: it's completely fine.
Relief courses through your veins at his casual tone. You don't know how you'd have responded had he mentioned you blocking him seemingly out of nowhere. However, there's a small part of you that remains curious if he had even realised you blocked him. Nevertheless, you'd much rather put all of that behind you and move forward.
You: i was randomly scrolling through my phone and the next thing i knew, my phone was calling you 
Tae 🐻: lmao 
Tae 🐻: blame it on the phone, yes
You smile. Going back to being friends might not be that difficult. 
You two chat a bit and catch up with each other about things the both of you have been up to recently. You lose track of time as you make yourself a cup of tea, refusing to let your phone down, feeling excited at the thought of telling him about the things you have been up to. 
Tae 🐻: well i have something to tell you
You: uh oh
You: go on
Tae 🐻: so last day me and Bridget went on a date 
Tae 🐻: and things got steamy 👉👈
Tae 🐻: if you know what i mean
You very well know what he means.
Your stomach sinks in disappointment.
It's not because you're jealous or that the thought of Taehyung with someone else makes you feel disheartened, you have moved past that. Rather, you feel disappointed that he thought it was something appropriate to mention to you. 
Had it been anyone else in some other scenario, you'd have had no issue. Friends, close ones especially, tend to discuss these sorts of things, don't they? However, this is Taehyung and keeping the recent events in mind, he should not have mentioned it to you at all. Especially not when, his new relationship had made you feel as if he didn't bother to think of you, once. 
He keeps on going about how it was one of the best nights of his life but you don't find it in yourself to play pretend and entertain him. Although you don't directly ask him to stop, you don't reply to his texts either.
Tae 🐻: Y/N? 
The screen reads when he's done and probably upon the realisation that you haven't said anything for a long time. 
You: nice
Oh, how you wish technology was advanced enough for the text to be read aloud on his phone in a sarcastic tone.
You: let me tell you about yesterday
You: we went back to Kate's place 
You: and i got drunk simply because i was feeling low and sad and depressed and was looking for an escape 
You: but that didn't help, only enhanced what i was already feeling
You could have probably avoided saying this but then you wanted to say it. You don't know if he'll put two and two together but it's your own way of telling him that things are still sensitive.
Tae 🐻: you sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken 😂 
A loud laugh escapes your lips. Gosh, is this the guy you have been crying over for weeks? 
Wow.
—--------------------------------------------------------
Taehyung has let you down, as a friend. More than once. 
A few days back, he'd asked if he could send you a poem that he'd written. You had always known he liked writing stuff and hadn't thought much of it. However, upon asking what it was about, he had replied 'newfound love'. Your reply to which had been, 'In that case, I'm not interested'. 
You didn't care how that sounded, you were not gonna put up with this bullshit just because it would be impolite. 
With each passing day and with each small incident where you feel as if your feelings are totally disregarded, your disappointment keeps growing. You really had not expected this kind of behaviour from Taehyung. 
One of the main reasons you had fallen for him was the way he seemed so emotionally wise. He was aware and attentive towards the people around him and was always kind. His recent attitude contradicts all of that.
There is a part of you that also recognises how his recent behaviour has made you detached. You could not say that the Taehyung you fell in love with and the Taehyung now, are the same. In a very twisted way, it made accepting the fact that there's nothing between the two of you, except friendship much easier. 
Tae 🐻: Y/N
Tae 🐻: I messed up. 
The text comes at around one in the morning. The only reason you're awake is the report that's due in two days. But the incoming text puts your fingers to a pause as worry clouds your senses. 
Is he okay? 
You: what happened? 
Tae 🐻: i messed up 
Tae 🐻: i feel so embarrassed
You: can you stop being vague? 
Tae 🐻: i sent a vm to Bridget of me singing TS 
You couldn't help rolling your eyes when you read the words. Huh, you should have seen it coming. 
Unlike other times, for some odd reason, you find yourself leaning towards the idea of entertaining him. Perhaps it's because you haven't had a proper conversation with him for a long time. And also perhaps, because you know this won't go on for long. 
You: so?
Tae 🐻: she is a huge TS fan 
Tae 🐻: she asked me to sing one of her favourite songs
Tae 🐻: and i cannot ever bring myself to say no to her
Tae 🐻: but like now that i listen back to the audio i sound terrible and i maybe did a British accent while singing
Understandably, you can see where he's coming from. The nervousness that comes with making a gesture for someone you adore and then feeling embarrassed about it, worrying whether they found it romantic or did you make a fool of yourself. And less than one month of being in a relationship is not enough to quieten the nervous jitters. 
So, you tell him what you would have, had it been any other friend. Upon further chatting you realise he genuinely feels like crawling inside a hole and never coming out. It doesn't surprise you, Taehyung has always been like that, going for the big gestures and self-doubt creeping in later.
You let yourself enjoy the normalcy and pretend that Taehyung is just another friend of yours and that he isn't someone who broke your heart.
—--------------------------------------------------------
Your phone has been buzzing and pinging since morning. Midnight to be specific. Birthday wishes have been flowing in with notes and gifs and with each message you feel more appreciated than you feel the rest three sixty-four days of the year. 
However, with each notification sound, there has also been that hope and expectation that maybe this one would be from Taehyung.
He had texted you a few days back reminding you of your upcoming birthday and although it's afternoon already, you don't really believe that he has forgotten the day altogether. 
When evening rolls around, you start growing sceptic. You squirm in your sofa, finally acknowledging that it's very well a possibility that your birthday might have slipped his mind. It makes you go back to the long, seven-hundred-word, letter he had written for your birthday, last year. 
The words make you smile.
Do you know how amazing you are? I don't think you do and it will be my job to make you see that.
Sometimes, I think I don't deserve you with how kind and loving you are but I'm so incredibly grateful for you that no amount of words would ever be enough.
I have never met someone like you, ever. 
Only a few lines from the massive paragraph that his greeting text was and the corner of your lips lift up. However, the moment is broken when you realise you're smiling. 
You shake your head as sadness fills you. You cannot let yourself recall old memories and feel the way they used to make you. It's not an option anymore.
Locking your screen, you sigh. You won't lie, you had really wanted a text from him. Anything that would show you that he still cares for you and the friendship between the both of you still held a chance. It's no wonder that you have been seeking some sort of reassurance after everything that he has done. 
It's around eleven at night that Taehyung's name first appears on your notification bar. You grin wide and open your text, glad to have been proven wrong and feeling stupid to have considered the idea of him forgetting your birthday. 
A link to a YouTube video.
Your grin disappears just as quickly and disappointment like nothing you have ever felt before, makes its way to your heart. 
You leave him on seen.
A day passes and you wonder if he will send at least a belated wish, apologising for not wishing you any sooner. But nope 
It's the day after that, the second day past your birthday when you check for any messages from him and you are led to his stories. It's slides of pictures of him and Bridget and the caption is him singing praises of her and telling the world how much in love he is because it's her birthday. 
That's your last straw.
It's probably a very small issue, forgetting birthdays and all. But to you, it's not. It just adds up to the pile of things that have made you feel like you were the only one who was taking into consideration the friendship that was at stake.
Plus, it cannot be that difficult to remember your birthday when his girlfriend's birthday is literally two days after yours. 
You have had enough. You need to walk out of Taehyung's life.  
Considering all that had made you fall for Taehyung, it's incredibly hard for you to believe that he doesn't know what he is doing and that he has forgotten basic decency. The option that was left with you, didn't make sense to you either because it implied he let you down intentionally. But the Taehyung you knew would never hurt a fly. 
It made you wonder if it was simply a result of his honeymoon phase that he had forgotten to consider how his actions could hurt people. Maybe he was too elated to think things through.  The empathetic part of you understood. But then you shook that away, knowing very well that if you were in his position, irrespective of how happy and high you were, you would never do that. 
Maybe you had realised that this was coming from the very day, he hadn't thought twice before mentioning his intimate moments with Bridget. But, boy oh boy, had you hoped to be wrong.
You had given him opportunities to prove you wrong, to give you a reason to stay but he only kept giving you reasons as to why you should leave.
It's an odd sensation that washes over you when you come to the conclusion that this isn't worth it anymore. 
You feel sad that the friendship is coming to an end. You're sure you'd miss his company and that there would be days when you mourn the friendship that once used to be. You know there would be times when you'd resent him and there would also be times when you'd feel angry at yourself for giving so much of you to him. 
But you won't ever regret your choice of leaving him. 
One thing this whole ordeal with Taehyung has made you realise is how deeply you love. How even in the midst of hurt, you were happy for him and how you saw and loved him for what he was and not for what he could be or for what he offered you. It made you take pride in the way you love. You gave him the purest form of love. 
A life where you and Taehyung are not friends, won't be your loss. It would be his. Irrespective of whether he realises that or not.
You feel oddly poweful with the knowledge that there was nothing lacking in your love and you'd never dishonour your love by staying where it isn't valued, appreciated and seen. 
But you also have a lot to say to him. You are not going to just block him and let him wonder why you did that. No, you'd tell him exactly why you left. 
—--------------------------------------------------------
It took you a couple of days to get down everything you wanted to say. There were times when you felt conscious of the ever-growing length of your letter and you had to shake off that feeling because this was going to be the last interaction between the both of you. Why stop yourself from saying everything you want to just because you're worried it'll be lengthy? 
You read the words one last time, wanting to make sure that you feel satisfied. 
Hello Taehyung, 
I hope you're doing fine. I wouldn't know how you're doing because we haven't had a proper conversation in quite some time. Or at least that is how it has felt to me. Nevertheless, I'm writing this because there's loads that I need to get off my chest. So, here we go.
When I saw you for the first time and we talked, I could feel you carried a lot of pressure on your shoulders. Almost like, you had something to prove, like you wanted to show that you weren't what you were perceived to be. Or maybe you wanted to prove that you were more than just what meets the eye. I didn't know what in particular. It felt like you wanted to be seen. 
And would you believe, I grew a soft spot for you? Do you know why? Because somewhere, I felt the same way too. 
I also knew we would be great friends, lol. You know how? Because I knew you had a heart of gold. You cared for others, you were thoughtful and kind. However, I could feel that you have a habit of being harsh on yourself and it didn't sit well with me. From the very first time we talked, I wanted to be a good friend to you, someone you could rely on, someone you could trust and someone who could possibly make you be a little less harsh on yourself. 
Perhaps with the weak spot, I also grew protective of you.
You were desperate for love and at the same time felt unworthy of it. I didn't know why though. I didn't know what had you believing so lowly about yourself. But then you told me about Kira, and it all made sense. 
It made sense why you felt unworthy and why you felt the need to prove that you were more than what others saw. Because, you believed Kira's words. You really thought you were unlovable. 
Instead of feeling the satisfaction of  being proved right, I felt so angry at Kira. I may have clawed her eyes out in my mind more than once. 
After learning the scars that she left on you, it only made me wish you could see yourself the way I do. I wished you could see that there was nothing you had to do to be loved except for just being you.
You may wonder why I'm suddenly saying all this. Well, let's just say it's necessary.
When you told me you were falling for me, I was surprised but then I felt myself feeling so warm at the thought of you liking me. It took me a few minutes to realise that I was falling for you too. 
But that was it. 
We never put a label on what we were and I was okay with it. Because I was okay with what we had, I never asked for anything because you were happy. You were also such a great friend, someone who I could talk to anything and everything about. What more could I ask for?
What's more? I could tell you were slowly coming out of whatever shell you were put in by Kira. I can't quite explain how it made me feel to see you smile more freely, to see you be more confident and be sure of yourself. But to put it lightly, it made me feel damn good lol.
I knew I had some part to play in it. I just didn't know that was the only part you wanted me to play. 
I moved past all that, trust me. You using my love as a rebound, making a girlfriend without even letting me know once, I moved past all that. Because, I trusted you when you told me you were confused and confusion is never intentional, is it? 
It hurt like a bitch to think that was all my love meant to you. But it was okay, you didn't mean to hurt me. You cared about me. You cared about our friendship. You valued it. 
Or so you said. 
I don't know if you meant it when you said it. But in case you did mean it, here are a few things not to do to the girl you used as a rebound and intend to keep the friendship with.
First, do not mention that you had sex with your new girlfriend. 
Second, do not be dumb enough to say "You sound like a typical guy whose heart has been broken" when you are the guy who's caused the damage. 
Third, do not send her the song you sang for your girlfriend and seek comfort to soothe the embarrassment you feel.
Fourth, do not ask her to read the poems you wrote for your girlfriend.
Fifth, do not forget her birthday when your girlfriend's is just two days later. 
These things didn't hurt me as much as it disappointed me. Would you believe, I laughed when you called me a typical heartbroken guy? When I got drunk the day before, my head was filled with thoughts of you and my heart was heavy with the knowledge that I was only a rebound. That day, even in the midst of alcohol, I chose our friendship over everything. I chose to forgive you. I chose to love you, still. But when you mentioned what you did, I just found it so funny to think that this was the guy I was thinking so much about and was so sad about. 
As it turns out, I'm not much fond of thoughtless people. 
But still, I hoped that somehow you'd give me a reason to stay. All you did, however, was turn a blind eye to my feelings and disrespected me.
If you were to ask me, whether my love for you is romantic or platonic, I wouldn't be able to tell. I have never sat and thought about it. All I know is I loved you, in one of the most unselfish ways possible. 
But that's not to say I don't realise how I deserve to be treated. And that's not to say that I'd stay somewhere where I'm an afterthought. 
When I said, I was happy for you and Bridget I really meant it and I hope you don't think that your relationship ever had a role to play in this decision of mine. It didn't, it was solely you that made me choose this option.
But this friendship of ours has run its course.
I would never disrespect myself by putting up with your disrespect. I loved you as long as you were worth it. But the moment you took my love for granted was the very moment you lost my respect and love, both. 
If you have made it to the end, then congrats! I didn't know if you'd read the whole thing but truth be told I don't particularly care about you reading it either. I wrote this for myself, not for you. 
Before I finish this long-ass letter, let me tell you something; you have lost one of the best people you'd ever meet in this lifetime. 
Thank you,
With Love,
The purest form.
Jeon Jungkook
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His words echo in your mind and after an elongated pause, you find it in yourself to respond. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook gulps, hating how controlled your facial expressions are. In the months of knowing you, he has never seen you try this hard to hide your emotions. “Me and Niki are not actually a couple.”
“Thank you for rephrasing the sentence but I am afraid that it does not make things any clearer for me.”
Jungkook takes a sharp inhale and meets your eyes with uncertainty. “It’s just a PR stunt.”
It takes a few moments for the words to register but when they do, things start making sense, almost like puzzle pieces falling in place.
Namjoon’s hesitance in answering your question about the truth of their relationship. His lack of shock to the words you had heard Niki speak and most importantly, why Niki might have said those words. The whole relationship is not real to begin with.
“But, why?” The words leave your lips without your permission, before you’re able to catch them.
For a moment, he hesitates, wondering if it’s his place to say a few of the things he will have to, to make things clear.  But then he shakes off the worry, knowing Niki won’t mind.
“Both of our fandom, for some reason, ship us together. You know the whole ‘both are maknaes’ thing. Nevertheless, both of our companies thought it would be mutually beneficial for the two of us to put up this false act that we are dating.”
“How is it supposed to be mutually beneficial?” It doesn’t make sense to you. One of the oddest and most toxic traits of the kpop industry is how idols are expected to be loyal to their fans by remaining single. How then, a public relationship is supposed to garner anything except for unnecessary attention and hate?
“Niki is well, dating a youtuber. A female youtuber and pictures of them hanging out together didn’t take long to make it to the internet. Although at the beginning, everyone thought they were just good friends, soon there were questions as to whether it was just a simple friendship and well, people were not really happy with that idea,” he sighs, feeling tired just from thinking about everything that had led to this whole ordeal. “It wasn’t only about Niki dating a girl, it was also about her dating someone that wasn’t me. And of course, it was her girlfriend’s fault for coming between two people who are 'meant to be'. All of which ultimately made it incredibly difficult for the two of them to be at peace.”
You can imagine. The thought makes you sympathise with both of them. From Jungkook's words, it's clear the target was Niki’s girlfriend but you are sure it couldn’t have been easy for Niki to watch someone she loves hurt like that.
You understand Niki’s part of the deal. Putting up this font, would stop the threats and hate aimed at them but what was Jungkook supposed to get from this?
Jungkook looks at you and nods, acknowledging the unasked question. "When the offer first came, our company had turned it down, not seeing how it could benefit me. But I was the one who insisted and agreed."
"Why?" 
His discomfort grows and he swallows nervously, trying to gather his thoughts. "People are obsessed with me and Niki to the point where it's very predictable that they would hate it if someday I were to date someone who isn't her. I thought it would be good if we did this thing and people believed that we gave it a shot but it didn't work out. That way it would be one less thing I'd have to worry about while dating someone."
You put the thought behind of how it seems incredibly far-fetched and nod. He has answered your question about the nature of their relationship and why it was necessary. However, you still have a bunch of questions about a lot of things–starting with how crushed you felt when he moved you as Namjoon's make-up artist out of nowhere–but you do not wish to let them see the light of the day. 
Turning away, you start shuffling with some of the make-up products, indicating that the conversation is done. 
"Please say something," Jungkook pleads, tormented by your silence. 
"There's nothing more to say," you mutter, keeping away any emotion from being shown. 
"That can't be true."
You hate how sure he sounds. As if he is aware of every thought that's running in your head. As if he knows you a little too well. You absolutely despise how you might have believed the notion, once. Now, however, you do not want to. Because that'd mean he knew exactly how much hurt, his ignorance and pretence as if you don't even exist, caused you. 
"Y/N, please. We haven't talked for a long time. Please don't shut me out." 
Technically, you have two options. One, to keep ignoring him. Two, to snap at him and let every bit of your anger out. You had initially planned on sticking to option number one as it would make you look just as indifferent as Jungkook. However, now you find the option of letting words out without a filter, very appealing. 
"I know, I messed up but just talk to me–" the sound of a shaky exhale meets your ears, "–I miss spending time with you."
Well, that's some audacity. 
In the blink of an eye, you're facing Jungkook and taking several steps in his direction. You stop only a few steps away from him but you're close enough for him to notice the agony and pure rage storming through your eyes. 
"You better shut your mouth, Jeon." 
Jungkook flinches at your warning tone. However, he refuses to take the hint. "Y/N, ignoring me isn't going to solve–"
"Trust me, I'm not trying to solve anything," you speak through gritted teeth. "I'm just doing what I think is the right thing to do after someone disrespects you immensely."
"I wasn't trying to disrespect you," he claims, desperately trying to make you believe in something you don't buy for even a second.
"Yeah, ghosting me out of nowhere is not disrespecting me at all," your voice drops with sarcasm 
He feels his heart drop when you use the word 'ghosting'. Did you think that's what he did? Is that what it looked like? Gosh, this has all gotten messed up and he's the one to be blamed.
"I didn't ghost you," he mumbles, unable to look into your eyes and the sight of it causes all the pain that you had buried, to come to the surface. 
"Then please explain what it was," you voice waivers and you immediately hate yourself for showing weakness. "Please tell me what you thought you were doing by replacing me without even showing the basic decency to inform me that, yourself?"
He gulps, wondering if you'd even believe what he has to say. Even if you do, would you be willing to look past his stupidity?
"I found your note in my bag", you visibly flinch at the mention of the note. You had intentionally kept from mentioning your little confession, praying to whatever god is out there that somehow the note had been damaged before it reached the hands of the person they were meant to find. 
Jungkook notices your change of expression as it turns from hurt to embarrassed to anger and he despises himself for making you feel like that. "I had to make a quick decision and I didn't think you'd like to be my make up artist while I was fake dating Niki, especially without you having any knowledge about the fake part."
You stare at him blankly and try to process what he was saying. Did he–did he think he was doing you a favour by cutting you off?
You scoff, turn around and start packing your things with the intention of leaving the room. You're so done with this conversation.
When Jungkook understands your intention, he's quick on his feet and rushes to be right next to you. "Just give me the chance to explain myself fully."
You don't reply, your insides fuming.
"Y/N please," he begs. "Just hear me out once. Then I'll accept whatever it is that you decide for the both of us."
"I'm not gonna stand here and hear you speak utter bullshit that does nothing but let me down further."
Your voice comes with such a sense of finality that Jungkook knows, no matter how much he begs and pleads, you won't be giving him the opportunity to speak his side of things. 
Hence, he doesn't stop you when you walk past him and leave the room. But it only makes him more desperate for the day when you finally find it in your heart to give him a chance. Just one.
—-----------------------------------------------------
Jungkook has been persistent. Perhaps a little too persistent with his attempts to earn your forgiveness. Or at least that's what you assume the bouquets of flowers and little notes you find everyday at work are for. 
It's not only the flowers, it's also his constant texting and voicemails. His texts vary from a simple 'hi, what are you doing' to 'please, i miss you' and his voicemails have been a mix of him telling you about his day (something he used to do regularly when you were his makeup artist) to a more emotional version of his texts begging you to talk to him. 
You won't lie, his incessant pleadings have made you curious what more could he possibly have to say. What could be so different from what he has already said that he is so desperate? 
On one hand, you find an odd sense of satisfaction from not responding to Jungkook despite all his efforts. You don't know what that makes you but after the hurt and embarrassment you felt to the point where you had to numb yourself to block those emotions out, his tries and attempts feel like an ointment to your wounds. On the other hand, however, is a voice nagging you as to how, this cannot go on for long. The huge bouquets that wait for you everyday are soon going to catch attention and if anyone were to catch a hint of who it is from…gosh, you don't want to imagine that.
But when you will find it in yourself to have a conversation with him, still remains unknown. All you know is whenever that will be, it will be solely because you don't want word to go out. Yes, that's all it will be. 
Today when you walk into Namjoon's dressing room, there's another bouquet waiting for you. The sight of it causes you to sigh. You don't know what Namjoon thinks of this but you're thankful that he hasn't mentioned it yet. That however, made it quite clear that he has some idea as to who they are from.
You let the flowers be where they are. You have never really taken them home or put them in water, afraid that it would be interpreted as you being accepting of his efforts, when you're far from it. You're still hurt and angry. 
If anything, sometimes you despise walking into a room full of flowers as they serve as a reminder of the thoughts you had before confessing to him. You remember thinking how confessing felt like putting a delicate unbloomed flower in someone's hand and whether the bud gets to bloom or not, depends on the person you're confessing to. 
If only you had known of the thorns you would be exposed to, back then, you'd never have confessed. 
The door swings open softly and Namjoon walks in. "Good morning, Y/N."
"Good morning," you greet him back with a smile. 
"So what's on card for today?" He asks before taking his usual seat. 
"There's nothing much for today, just rehearsals and then you have a v-live," you mumble. "But firstly I need to do your weekly facial."
He huffs. "Is it the one that requires you putting a lot of slimy stuff on my face and it stays on for like thirty minutes?" 
"Yep," you reply with a light laugh. Despite what he says, you have learnt that Namjoon quite enjoys his facial sessions. Unlike a certain someone. 
Your smile falters and your sudden change of mood doesn't go unnoticed by Namjoon. 
"Have you considered speaking to Jungkook?" He asks after a brief moment of silence. 
You're taken aback by his words. Namjoon has always avoided speaking on the matter. He has never even queried as to what you do with the flowers. Hence, his direct way of questioning has you fumbling with words. 
"I d–haven't," you change your wording, fearing 'I don't want to', might just be a little too rude. 
However, your choice of answer is put to vain with the very next question he asks. "Do you want to?" 
"I don't want to," you softly shake your head, mildly afraid how Namjoon will interpret it.
He simply nods, without any trace of judgement. "I'm not saying this because I'm picking sides, but I have known Jungkook since he was a kid and I can tell that he really is sorry. 
"Whether to forgive him or not, is completely on you. But put a little trust on him that he must have some reason behind doing what he did. Just hear him out once."
You keep quiet, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Namjoon understands that and soon changes the topic of conversation to something more light-hearted. 
Hours later, when everything comes to a close and it's time for you to leave, you find yourself hesitating. Namjoon's words simply refuse to leave your mind. Put a little trust in him. How can you, when he's let you down in every way possible? When he has betrayed your trust in ways that still keep hurting you? 
You gulp when you realise there's probably no end to the hurting until you have a chat with Jungkook and hear his side. At least, that way you will know his reasoning behind everything and it will hopefully stop your self loathing for putting the note in his bag. Even if all he gives is excuses, you'd at least have the satisfaction of having heard him out. Later maybe a week, or a month from now, when your emotions subside, you wouldn't have this unscratched itch of not knowing what he had to say. 
Maybe, maybe it's for the best that you talk to him.
—-----------------------------------------------------
"Come in," Jungkook calls out in response to the knock at his door and is visibly surprised when you walk in. He quickly gets up from his seat, stuffs his phone in his pocket and with a nervous voice asks, "would you like some coffee?"
You shake your head. You're not here for coffee. "No, thank you. I'm here to talk to you."
He nods as his nervousness spikes. This is what he has wanted and hoped for so long, but now that you're here, he doubts you will believe him. What if you don't? Even worse, what if you do and still don't forgive him?
The both of you get seated and your fingers anxiously play with the strap of your handbag. "What is it that you have been wanting to tell me?"
Jungkook sighs. Pushing the nervousness away, he knows that the only thing in his power is to tell you his side of things. Otherwise, he's powerless. 
"For the things I said last day, to make sense, I would have to mention that I like you," he cannot find it in himself to look at you as he says that. "I've liked you for a long time."
The words take you by surprise, and your mouth parts in shock. The shock then morphs into disbelief and denial. He did not just confess to liking you.
"But it's never that simple when you're a famous K-pop idol," something bitter coats his words and he looks defeated. "The consequences of dating me, is something that one doesn't realise until they face it for themselves."
Jungkook has grown a thick skin. But you? He doesn't want you to be someone who ever has to go through things that require you to build a thick skin. He doubts he will ever forgive himself if he were to see you beaten up by harsh words and constant criticism, all because of your association to him.
"I wanted to tell you how I felt but just the sheer terror of what you may have to go through, kept me from doing so," an unwanted shiver runs through his body when he recalls the moments where the fluttering in his chest would always be accompanied by a heavy sinking in his stomach. "It wasn't my choice to stress about these things but I couldn't help myself considering that associating with me had consequences."
Your face falls with each word that leaves his lips. 
"It was choosing between giving into my feelings and listening to logic. I tried to be logical and practical for as long as I could. Until, I just couldn't," a humourless chuckle escapes his lips. "I remember thinking that I just need to tell you how you make me feel."
He doesn't voice how there was a part of him that had wished you'd not reciprocate his feelings. That way, even after his sheer selfishness, things would be fine. 
"It was around the time I decided on confessing to you, that I learnt about the proposition from Niki's agency. Call me incredibly stupid but I thought if I did this, I'd at least do something instead of sitting and dreading with my hands tied." Jungkook shakes his head, finding it cruel that even after all this, he somehow managed to mess everything up. 
Your mouth parts unknowingly when the pieces click. Jungkook's decision to date Niki for the cameras, didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't as far-fetched as you thought. His decision had come from a place of anxiety where he felt powerless. 
"But then I found that note," he cannot help but recall that day fondly. He felt like a kid and often found himself smiling, looking into the mirror. However, that joy was soon wiped off when the situation sank in. "I was so excited and happy, but then I realised that I had already agreed to date Niki."
You hardly blink as Jungkook speaks and due to that, you don't miss the way a smile appears on his lips. But it's gone as soon as it appears, as if he catches himself slipping and reprimands himself for it. It makes you consider the possibility if he was receptive to your confession in a positive way. 
"I didn't know what to do, I couldn't imagine letting you know that I felt the same but then going out and holding another woman's hand. Even if it's for the cameras, it's–," he closes his eyes shut as if pained, "–it's horrible."
"I couldn't do that but I also needed to make a quick decision. I thought the only way to go about things was to postpone answering your confession. After the announcement of the breakup with Niki, I thought I could talk to you then and clear things out. At that moment, that was the only option that made sense to me."
His words take you back to the day when you were filled with nervous excitement only for it to be replaced with dread and heartbreak when you learnt that Jungkook had replaced you as his makeup artist, just like that. 
"It was stupid, I know," he mutters in a small voice. "I don't have anything to say in my defence except for admitting that I messed things up and I didn't realise what it must have looked like to you, until it was too late." 
He paused for a few moments, looking exhausted. "I-I am sorry for everything. I know it's hard to believe but hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do. I really just wanted to make things right. If you can, please, forgive me."
You sense that to be the end of everything Jungkook had to say. The way he looks at the floor and refuses to look at you, makes you want to comfort him. But your feelings are too muddled, you're too confused and there's a lot that you have learnt that has left you surprised. You don't think you're in the state of mind to make decisions now. 
"Thank you for telling me everything," you keep your voice soft. It gives Jungkook the courage to finally look up at you and his breath hitches when he realises you aren't looking at him with your gaze filled with hate and pain. It gives him hope. "But I need some time to process everything." 
Jungkook nods, knowing that's the best he can ask for at the moment. He's relieved that you aren't dismissing his words and feels incredibly grateful that you are taking time to think things through. He knows that you taking time is more for yourself than for him, but there's a hint of a promise that this is not the end of the conversation, that you'll talk to him again. And that's more than anything Jungkook can ever ask for.
—-----------------------------------------------------
The last few days, your mind has been completely occupied with Jungkook's words. Not only his words but also the way he looked refuses to leave your mind. You couldn't find it in yourself to doubt his genuineness and the fact that he was feeling terrible, was displayed in green neon lights. 
You had to remind yourself repeatedly that it isn't only about how he feels. You should cater to your feelings and figure out what to do next. 
There was also the new revelation that Jungkook liked you. Quite honestly, you didn't know what to do with that information. The whole conversation was melancholic and it must have rubbed off on you for you didn't feel the joy one usually does on learning that their crush likes them back. 
Everything was quite confusing. So much so, that it had taken an entirety of five days for you to sort out your thoughts and approach Jungkook. 
He sits across from you in a pale blue shirt and black trousers, his body language screams that he's nervous and oddly enough it comforts you to know that you aren't the only one feeling that way. 
"After learning everything, I couldn't help but wish you had communicated before. It would have saved the both of us a lot of hurt," you begin with a sombre tone, feeling your heart hurt at the constant overthinking you have had to go through. "Things might have been simpler that way." 
"I know," Jungkook nods, not having a single word to defend himself with. 
You look at him a moment longer wondering if he would try providing  you with a reason for his lack of communication. When he doesn't, you're confused how you're supposed to perceive it. 
On one hand, you'd have liked for him to actually have a proper reason. On the other, you're sure Jungkook is aware of his mistakes and his lack of response somehow gives the impression that he's owning up to everything without making excuses. 
"But what's done is done and there's no changing it," you continue after a small sigh. "It's for the best that we move on from it."
Jungkook's heart shrinks. By moving on do you mean just never acknowledging the feelings you both share for each other? That's exactly what comes to his mind because you feeling the same way you did, despite the hurt he has caused you, sounds too good to be true. He cannot be shameless either to ask you about it directly. He will take whatever you will give him. 
Instead, he asks a question which he knows would eat him alive if he doesn't voice it. "Can you forgive me?" 
"I wouldn't have asked for the both of us to move on, if I hadn't already," and then you do something that makes Jungkook feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off from his chest. You smile at him.
Forgiving Jungkook wasn't easy. You wanted to hold on to the anger because your pride was hurt and most importantly, you were scared of getting hurt again. But then you also had to think through things logically. 
Jungkook has never had it easy with fame. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the way he has always been under scrutiny and his sudden loss of control over his own life. With time, he learnt that it was for the best to not pay attention to the people who weren't even familiar with him. 
He could overlook and turn deaf to the hate that's thrown his way. However, his loved ones being targeted is something that fills him with guilt to an inexplicable amount. You have seen it yourself. 
The incident isn't that old. A year back, Jungkook had gone out with a bunch of his childhood friends. He was pictured closing the car door for one of them, who so happened to be a girl. That one single shot was enough for the media and internet to decide there must be something more than platonic going between the two. 
You remember the way Jungkook was so troubled and absolutely heartbroken with the hate and threats that were aimed at his friend, for something so simple and it was visible to everyone that he blamed himself for it.
You cannot imagine what kind of stones would be thrown at you if word got out. The information that you're his makeup artist would be a cherry on top. Gold digger, witch, slut, whore; some of the less colourful terms. 
Seeing the way Jungkook suffered, it made sense why he would be so scared to be open about his feelings. You could imagine yourself feeling the same way had it been you being in his place. Seeing someone you care for, getting hate that they absolutely don't deserve, is painful enough for one to believe that it's for the best to keep distance. 
You also imagined what you would have felt had Jungkook admitted his feelings and had told you about the fake dating. Yes, you'd have the knowledge that there was nothing real between him and Niki. However, you'd also have to see them all over the internet and watch people go on and on about how perfect they are. You'd be aware that Jungkook likes you, but you'd also be bitter about how the beginning of your relationship is marked with him publicly dating someone else. It's not exactly a nice feeling. 
One could argue that the way events have turned out, they aren't perfect either. But there's nothing going on between Jungkook and you. At least, not yet. 
That's one thing that you both need to talk about and you really want to clear out everything, at once. Who knows what miscommunication would occur if things were left unsaid, again? 
"I would never intentionally hurt you, Y/N,"Jungkook squirms a little in his seat, ignoring the absence of the weight that has been eating him alive for days. He thinks you're going easy on him and he thinks he doesn't deserve it. 
"I am choosing to trust your words," you reply, having a sense of the turmoil Jungkook seems to be going through. The fact that he is always hard on himself is not unknown to you. "All I ask from you is to not break my trust. And for you to accept that you do not have to burden yourself with responsibilities."
Jungkook knows it's hard for him to not feel like there's always a bunch of responsibilities on his shoulder. Especially when one moment of misjudgement can cause irreversible damage. Despite that, he feels a sense of warmth spread throughout his body at your words. 
"I'll try."
You shoot Jungkook another smile; the second one this evening and he can't help but think that you should really stop giving him hope.
"There's one more thing that we need to talk about," your cheeks turn red and much like Jungkook earlier, it's your turn to squirm in your seat. "You said something about liking me."
You feel awkward at the choice of your words but then you aren't brave enough to start by mentioning your note of confession. 
Jungkook's eyes turn as wide as saucers and his whole face flushes to match the shade of your cheeks. He really wasn't expecting for you to bring it up. "Umm yeah," he nods. 
You feel a spark of impatience and annoyance at his short response. You took it upon yourself to bring the topic to the table and he cannot just spill everything, already? Why make it more difficult for you? 
"Yeah…..so?" You look at him with your brows raised, trying your best to ignore the way you feel like a three year old shy girl, on the inside. 
"I–I do like you," he stutters and looks away, for the umpteenth time, unable to meet your eyes. 
Your heart takes a fucking long jump. Who would have thought Jeon Jungkook would be so shy about admitting his feelings? 
"What should we do about it?" You intentionally use the 'we' for Jungkook to catch the hint that you want to do something about it. 
But of course, he doesn't. 
He speaks sullenly, "I have lost the right to have a say in the matter." 
"I want you to have a say in the matter. Tell me, Jungkook, what do you want?" You refuse to let go of the conversation and for Jungkook to let his guilt swallow him. He messed up, there's no denying that. But you could always acknowledge the fact that his heart was in the right place. 
Feelings of frustration makes his throat clogged up . "I just want to go back and redo things in a different way."
"That's not possible. What do you want to do now?"
He knows what he wants but voicing it, feels being ungrateful towards your forgiveness. It feels like he's being greedy. "What I do want, feels like too much to ask for."
"You'll never know until you ask for it." 
He sighs and reminds himself that you're asking him about the romantic feelings he has admitted to harbouring towards you. He reminds himself to not be selfish and make it about his guilt. If you want to know, he will tell you and he will be honest about it. 
"I want to be with you," his admission is made in a small voice but it doesn't hide the clarity his words have. 
Your breath hitches and you feel the soft pitter patter of your heart that you had missed when he admitted his feelings for you the first time around. 
"When does this fake relationship of yours end?" 
"A month from now."
You nod. "A month from now, take me out on a date and we will see."
Jungkook's eyes snap to yours, not having expected you to speak those words. You shoot him a small smile before getting up and leaving the room. 
—-----------------------------------------------------
SIX MONTHS LATER
"I swear to god, if you don't stay still, I'll intentionally ruin your makeup."
Your threatening low tone goes in through one ear and comes out of the other. "You could never do that."
"Don't test my limits."
A pout makes its appearance. "But that's my favourite thing to do."
You sigh in both astonishment and in love. 
How do you manage to repeat the same routine with the same man everyday and never get tired of it? Maybe it has everything to do with the way your heart keeps stuttering around this man.
No, the man sitting in front of you, is not the global superstar Jeon Jungkook. 
The man sitting in front of you is your boyfriend, Jungkook. 
The official tag on your relationship was put four months ago, after a month of going out on dates. When you say going out, you mean staying in the hybe building and arranging dates in as innovative a way as one can. 
The month in which Jungkook had to pretend to be Nikki's boyfriend only proved to you why it would have been difficult for you had you and Jungkook actually been a thing at the time. It was already painful and as petty and irrational as it may sound, it also made you jealous when you would see articles of the two of them. You're not quite sure how humilated you would have felt if you two were to be dating at the time and to see people comment on how they are a match made in heaven.
That one month, for Jungkook, was a mix of everything. The beginning of the month came with constant doubts and shame where he wondered what he should do when the month is up. He wanted you but he didn't really think he deserved you. But then he had to make up his mind; he made a mistake and he always acknowledged that but it would be so incredibly foolish if he were to let that stop him from being with you. After a week or so, he had made up his mind. He messed up, but boy if he wasn't going to make up for it.  
That whole month was spent with him brainstorming ideas on how he can show his sincerity and be a better man. Somewhere along the line, he had opened up to Niki about it and there's just a hundred percent chance that if he's smiling wide in one of those paparazzi pictures, he's talking about you.
Jungkook has been nothing but the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. Any hurt or doubt was washed away soon after the both of you started going out. Being with Jungkook was so much more than you could have ever imagined. 
A month after being together, you were back as Jungkook's make-up artist. It was the best way to go about it as it would keep the both of you away from suspicious eyes and give the both of you ample amount of time to spend with each other. 
You both are aware that at some point, you'd have to inform the agency of the nature of your relationship as that'd be better than them finding it out from other sources. You're not quite sure what would be left of your job, but Jungkook seems quite sure that you won't be fired and that the members together, would somehow manage the higher authorities to make their rules more flexible. 
Jungkook isn't worried about the consequences with hybe, but he still finds himself stressing about the day the news becomes public. That is where you reassure him, that whatever happens, you both will get through it, together. You also remind him to not fret about it too much, because there's a long way to go before things are made public. For the time being, it's just the two of you. 
"No wait, that's actually my second favourite thing," Jungkook corrects himself. "My top favourite might just be kissing you."
You fight the blush trying to make an appearance and ask, "might?"
"The last time you kissed me was ten minutes ago. Forgive me for forgetting what it was like to be kissed by you."
As cute and adorable as Jeon Jungkook might be in front of the cameras, you have recently learned that he's just as sly and playful when he wants to be. 
"Will you stay still if I kiss you?" 
"Kiss me first and then you shall have your answer." 
So you do. 
Your soft lips are welcomed eagerly by his and they move against each other, tenderly without a hint of rush. Your breaths mingle and soft sighs escape as your hands get tangled in his hair. 
When you part, there's only a hair's gap between the two of you, "So what's the verdict?" 
Jungkook's doe eyes appear dazed as he looks at you. "Well my brain has turned into a mush, so you can totally expect me to stay still."
You giggle and the sound of it warms Jungkook's heart like nothing ever has. 
------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: i was so anxious about making this so long especially the Taehyung part but then the Taehyung part is something that happened to me irl, so i also just wanted it to be as real as possible. For Jimin, it just didn't feel right for the reader to agree to go out or be with Jimin without him earning it. But then, it also didn't quite fit in this reaction thing, if that makes sense? If y'all want some good ol' grovelling from this Jimin in a one-shot i will see what I can come up with 😉.
That being said, let me know what you thought of this! (This really was a lot of work, so your words would be greatest source of encouragement and achievement for me). Also, if you like my work and wish to have access to all my works before anyone else, here's my patreon!
Hope you enjoyed reading this!
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slutforitoshi · 11 months
Text
mikage reo - star student *:・゚✧
Tumblr media
ft. reo x f!reader, 18+ minors dni
cw: CORRUPTION KINK, virgin!mc, praise, oral m!receiving and f!receiving, fingering
synopsis: your dear upperclassman teaches you a few new tricks
wc: 1.85k
A/N: confession i was a reo anti until i read the manga LOL
mikage reo is the poster boy for model upperclassman. smart, athletic, and breathtakingly handsome. unlike other seniors he didn’t seem to view the younger years with distaste. after all, he was one of them just a few semesters ago. his generosity knew no bounds, from comped meals to private tutoring lessons. and you happened to be one of those pupils; a sprout eager to learn from the best. 
initially you sought out reo’s help since you happened to hear that he was the first in your school’s history to ace all the physics exams, a subject you were dreadful at. you expected the relationship to be cordial, professional even, but reo’s welcoming disposition made it hard to stay away. 
before you knew it he was assisting you with much more than physics, guiding you even in your personal life. that’s why it didn’t even occur to you as strange to blurt out, “i think i’m finally going to lose my virginity this weekend”
reo’s pencil that was currently scribbling away at his planner grinds to a halt, leaving only the slight hum of your ceiling fan to break the silence. 
shit. you’ve made things awkward. 
“oh my god i’m so sorry i don’t know why i said that,” you apologize immediately, realizing the vulgarity of your words. reo was your senior, and while he has helped you with relationship problems before, you should’ve known this was a leap further than that.
reo turns to you with a light smile though, relieving the regret you felt in your stomach. 
“what’s there to be sorry about? i’m glad you trust me to talk about it” he reassures you, in classic reo fashion. 
“are you sure? i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…” your voice trails off, but reo’s eyes don’t waver. his dear underclassman has a concern, and who else but him to help?
“well…ok. i’ve just been feeling left behind recently in that whole category. all my friends keep talking about their recent hookups, and it’s lame that i haven’t done anything past kissing”
reo’s eyebrows furrow in concern, “don’t tell me you want to have sex because of peer pressure.”  
“no no it’s nothing like that” you quickly shut down his unease, “i just feel like i’m ready for it. i want to join my friends.”
he slowly nods his head, taking in your true thoughts. 
“so how are you gonna do it? are you seeing anyone?”
“nah i was just gonna go to a party and find some semi-cute guy” you shrugged, and it’s clear by his expression that this was the worst idea he’s ever heard.
“you’re gonna settle for some random guy at a party, who will probably be mediocre at best in bed?” he spat, eyes narrowing at the prospect.
you’ve never seen reo like this, almost bitter at your proposed idea.
“i don’t see any other good options” you murmured. there probably were, but those other options included waiting, and you’ve had enough of that.
reo presses his fingertips to his temples, closing his eyes for a moment. 
“you think physics is the only thing i can help you with?”
he opens his eyes, turning towards you with such a piercing stare that it sends shivers down your spine. 
“n-no, of course not. you’ve helped me with loads of things before like math, biology-” you ramble, trying to ignore the quickening pace of your heartbeat. sure you were a virgin, but you weren’t naive. 
“i won’t force you. i’m just expanding your options” his eyes don’t leave you, and as much as you want to hide from his directness, you can’t seem to look away. as much as you wanted to run away, to say no, the growing heat in your abdomen has already made the decision for you. 
“p-please reo, i’m all yours”
“that’s my good girl.”
he places his right hand at the nape of your neck, then pulling you into his lips. gentle, you noted. his kisses showed no sign of aggression or neediness like you’ve experienced from the select few boys you’ve made out with before, but that’s not to say it wasn’t passionate. 
you break the kiss first, leaving your chair to kneel down before his. 
“can i?” you ask, looking intently at the bulge peaking through reo’s pants.
“eager aren’t we” he smirks, pulling down his waistband to reveal your first cock. and it’s impressive. your eyes widen at the length before you, mouth watering. you look up eagerly, lunging forward to envelop the head around your lips as reo gives an encouraging nod. 
“f-fuckk” he gasps, taking in the warmth of your mouth. it’s heavenly. 
you push your limits, inch by inch, until you feel him hit the back of your throat, and the sensation launches you off suddenly. 
“you alright?” reo sits forward, caressing your back as you cough through the result of your eagerness. you nod though, pushing him back into the chair. 
“wanna try again” you murmur, eyes fixated on your conquest. you wrap your lips around him again, taking note of the ache the girth inflicts on your jaw. it’s not an unpleasant feeling, and the view of reo’s eyes rolled back makes it all worth it. 
this time you don’t recoil from the hit, and start your trek up, then down, then up.
“focus on the tip, it’s sensitive there” he instructs, and you oblige, intensifying the bobbing motion near his ridge.
“circle your tongue around it” reo barely finishes his thought before you’re complying to his demands. 
reo’s fingers are digging into chair’s arms, leaving crescent shaped imprints. he couldn’t tell what was more pleasurable: the feeling of your tongue against his tip, or how fucking obedient you were. 
“such a good girl for me, learning so fast”
you hum in content at his praise, sending vibrations that nearly push reo to the edge. that’s enough he thinks, it’s time for the next lesson.
he sits up suddenly, and his cock leaves you with a ‘pop’. you try to object at the sudden emptiness, but he’s already pulling you up, guiding you to the bed. 
“sit back for me, and keep your legs spread” he instructs, tying his purple strands back to keep away from the mess that will surely follow. 
you do as he says, revealing the growing damp spot on the panties underneath your skirt. he dives in, wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you forward abruptly until his face is hovered above your heat. 
“r-reo-” your eyes widen at the sudden movement, but your voice morphs into a moan as he licks a long stripe above the cloth. 
“let me show you what you deserve” he peels off the drenched panties off your legs, marveling at your glistening folds. 
he makes haste, lunging forward to bury himself between your thighs. the sensation of the soft muscle of his tongue immediately makes you buck your hips forward. 
“f-fuck!” you splutter out, mind blanking as he circles your clit. he had you wondering why on earth you waited so long. strands of purple leaked through your knuckles as you held his head in place. 
a familiar coil builds, one that you’ve only felt through from your own efforts before. 
“you’re close aren’t you?” he smirks briefly before diving in again to chase after your high. 
stars dance across your half closed lids once he adds a finger into your entrance. it’s a stretch you’ve never felt before, but the feeling was more than welcome. then the addition of a second finger has your head falling back against the backboard. 
“your virgin pussy’s so tight” he remarks, noticing how cramped the hole was with only two digits in. his vulgar words brought a blush to your face; who knew the mikage reo could talk so dirty?
the curling of his fingers is what brings you over the edge, until you’re thrashing against the sheets while reo uses his free arm to hold your hips down. 
“how was that for your first orgasm?” 
“so…so good” you manage through your pants. it left you breathless, but he wasn’t finished with you yet. 
reo briefly gets up to roll a condom on while you recover. shit, it’s happening. you were about to kiss your virginity goodbye. 
“i’m gonna go nice and slow okay?” he says, positioning himself above you. a light kiss is placed on your forehead before you feel the tip nudge at your entrance. and then he pushes.
your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion, nails raking at reo’s back to offset the pain. 
“deep breaths, it’s almost all the way in” he whispers, trying not to cum himself from the absolute bliss that your pussy gives him. 
you both let out a sigh as he bottoms out, and he stills himself, waiting for confirmation to move. 
“please reo” you whine, “make me feel good”
his eyes darken at your pleads, and a flash of possessiveness passes his mind. you were so fragile, and yet here you were begging him to ruin you. 
he builds his pace gradually, knowing the stretch must still cause you discomfort. but by the third thrust, your loud moans were a clear indicator of the pleasure wracking your body. 
“r-reo, feels amazing” 
he responds to your praise with a firm grip on your waist, pulling you in deeper against him, “yeah? don’t you ever settle for anything less than this”
you almost yelp as he scoops one arm around your back to flip you. you’re on your knees now as he’s laid back against the mattress, still buried completely within you.
“want to learn how to ride?” he suggests, lip twitching upwards in a suggestive smile. the challenge was daunting, but a star student like you wouldn’t back down. 
you place your palms against his taut chest, shakily raising yourself up before crashing back down. 
“fuck, you’re a natural” he groans as you sink down again. 
the new position has his tip kissing your cervix, and it’s not long before your thighs are giving out. 
“looks like you need some help” he teases before his hands are supporting your hips, guiding you up and down his length. by the way your walls were fluttering, he could tell you were reaching another high. reo decides to add even more assistance by taking a free hand towards your clit, rubbing circles onto the sensitive bud. 
your body goes slack at the sudden onset of pleasure, but reo has no problem making up for your efforts to ride, still thrusting upwards at impressive speeds. 
“c-cumming again!” you exclaim again before clamping hard against his cock. your pulsating walls are enough for him to unload as well, thrusting erratically to maximize both your orgasms.
you collapse against his chest, limbs completely drained of energy. he laughs lightly at the state he left you in before wrapping his arms around your back and laying another kiss to the side of your temples. 
“reo how am i supposed to fuck anyone else after this” you whine, “you set the bar too high”
“who said we were done? you still have much more to learn”
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lostgirlmuseum · 8 months
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Give Me A Sign
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Made with photos from Pinterest ^
Word Count: 2.3k
Pairing: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Bucky asks the universe for a reason to live. The universe delivers you.
Warnings: HUGE WARNING, please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable! Heavy suicidal ideation, but happy ending. Please be very careful in considering if this is triggering for you. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t read, your mental health and safety comes first.
A/N: I’m really sorry if this isn’t great, I wanted to do more but I kept getting stuck, and tbh I just want to post it as is instead of stress about it.
(Dividers from @saradika)
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The air was unusually crisp the night Bucky snuck into the gardens of Cornelia Park. He had a faint memory of visiting once, in another century, with Steve. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Steve is dead. Bucky feels the weight of his entire history on his scarred shoulders. He feels out of place in such a green and flourishing area of flora. It’s wrong for him to be among such a place of peace and beauty, he finds it almost funny. Almost. 
He followed the path of lavenders into the private area of the park, surrounded by tall hedges. At the center stood an old stone statue, one he remembered from the last time he visited. Only now it looked much more worn and weathered. The statue was of an angel, a woman with wings. Her eyes were kind, her features soft, despite the stone. She held her arms out, one hand holding a lantern, the other beckoning him to hold. Instead, Bucky sat on the bench in front of her. 
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, apologizing for his very presence. He dropped his head into his hands.
And then he started crying. And his cries evolved to sobbing. He let himself cry, a privilege he rarely allowed himself. He let the tears flow, and they didn’t stop for what felt like hours. After forcing himself to pull himself together, he wiped his final tears from his cheeks and looked up to the black sky.
“Give me a sign, God.” His voice wavered.
“If you’re real, give me a sign to keep going. I’ve been at this a really long time. Just gimme— gimme a sign to keep going. That it will be worth it. Because life feels pretty damn bleak. And I know I should keep going, but I…”
The words wouldn’t come.
“I… fuck.” He looked back down at his hands. He thought about how much he hated those hands. He thought about how he wished he could wash the memories from his head like he does the blood from his palms, and how he wished he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He thought about how he wished he had died at the bottom of that cliff, and how everyone would be better off if—
“Hello?”
A small voice shook him from his thoughts. He hadn’t even heard someone approach. But there you were, standing in the entrance of the hedge garden.
“Oh, hi,” you smiled, once you saw him. At least he thinks you smiled. It was hard for him to see you in the shadows. 
“Sorry,” he quickly apologized, once he realized he hadn’t said anything yet. He had just stared. He looked away from you and back at his lap.
“No need to be sorry,” you said, walking up to the bench he sat on, “I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” 
He didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say. He too thought he was the only person there.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” You kindly asked, wrapping your white cardigan a bit tighter. 
That was when he looked up and saw your face in the light of the lantern for the first time. The first thing he thought was that you looked like you belonged there in the garden, unlike him. You could replace the angel statue, and its meaning would stay the same. 
“Go ahead,” he simply said. Although what he really thought was to warn you. Are you sure you want to sit next to him?
You took your place on the bench silently. Neither of you spoke for the first couple minutes. Bucky tried to focus on the sound of crickets, and the lack of traffic. 
He wasn’t sure why he stayed. If anything, his first thought should be to get up, walk away, escape. But he didn’t.
“My name is Y/N.” You softly said.
Stunned by your confession, he let his guard down.
“Bucky.” He half whispered back.
You simply hummed in response.
He could sense your gaze on him. It wasn’t malicious or judgemental; it felt curious and gentle. 
“Are you okay?”
His throat started to constrict again. He didn’t like that question, because he didn’t like the answer. He knows he’s not okay. But he doesn’t know how to say it. After struggling for a response for many seconds, he conceded to shaking his head softly. No.
“I hope it gets easier soon.” 
He felt the dam begin to break again. 
“It will get better someday,” you continued, “maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, or month, but someday it will get better.”
“How can you be so sure?” He choked.
“Life is like a pendulum, have you ever heard that before?”
“No.”
“Well, it is. Right now you’re swinging into the bad, but eventually you’re gonna swing right back into the good. It’s just physics. And it sucks in a way, because what’s the point of swinging into the light if it’s just gonna cast that shadow you’ll fall back into? But it’s also comforting to me, because I know as long as I keep pushing, I’ll end up on the other side.”
Bucky let your words ring in his ears. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to open up to you, but he did.
“I just keep asking myself why should I stay?”
“The trick is to find a new reason when you can. I think of one everyday.”
“What’s yours?” 
“Today?” You sighed and looked up at the stars. “I want to see the next snow.”
“That won’t be for months,” he said.
“Guess I’ll have to stick around then.” You gave a knowing smile.
“What should mine be?”
He knew there should be a million things, but they were all just out of reach of his mind.
“That’s up to you.”
Bucky didn’t say it, but he quickly came up with his reason to stay.
You. 
He told himself that he had to see you again.
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Bucky went back the next night. And the next. And he kept going back, because you met him every night for a week until you finally asked him if he wanted to meet you for lunch. That was the start of your relationship. Soon enough Sam started asking where Bucky had gone so often. He wasn’t in his room all day anymore, and he seemed lighter. He wasn’t ‘fixed’, obviously, but he was better. It started to get easier to breathe. 
The pendulum had begun to swing in Bucky’s favor, and it stayed that way for months. He still had his days, as did you, but you were happy together. You supported each other. 
And then came a very tough week.
The anniversary of Steve’s death. 
The wound had reopened, and Bucky spiraled. He was a mess, a total mess, and you were there to comfort him. 
But your kindness reminded him of Steve, and how he wasn’t enough for him. If Bucky was good enough for Steve, he wouldn’t have left, right? 
Although Bucky knew you wouldn’t leave him. That was the problem. He was an anchor, and you held on. 
For your own good, he convinced himself he had to let go, if you wouldn’t.
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The absence of warmth next to you woke you up. 
“Bucky?” You whispered. The clock blinked 4:13 A.M. 
No reply. You figured maybe he was sleeping on the couch, so you carefully sat up and waited a couple seconds before letting your bare feet touch the cold ground. Pulling your robe on from where it had fallen on the floor, you wiped the sleep from your eyes and padded over to the living room.
It was dark, and your eyes were still adjusting, but you could tell that he wasn’t there. You felt the rise of panic in your chest just before you spotted him standing on the balcony. 
He didn’t turn around to look at you as the door slid open and shut. He remained staring over the ledge at some unknown point.
“Hey, honey,” you whisper, your voice hoarse, as you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a big hug.
You hear his whimper before you feel his body shake.
“Y/N, I—”
“What’s wrong honey?” You quickly let go, turning him to face you. You notice his puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. His cheeks were rosy; you could tell he had been crying for a while.
“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t look you in the eyes.
“Sorry for what?” 
“I’m sorry for everything.” He starts. “I’m too much. I don’t deserve you, you deserve someone easier. Someone better, someone— someone good.”
“But I love you, and you are good. Bucky, where is this coming from?” The concern was thick in your voice. Sure, he had been a little down lately, but nothing alerted you to this level of distress.
“Sweetheart, all I do is bring hardship into your life. You deserve to live,” he looks into your eyes earnestly, “I know I shackle you to me. I know you give up things to be with me. But you don’t have to anymore. I’m letting you free.”
You hold back a shiver.
“What are you talking about? I want to be with you. You’re scaring me.”
“It’s not fair that I’ve lived this long, and it’s not fair that I’m dragging you down with me. I’m a fucking burden, Y/N. At first to Steve, then Sam, and now you. I can’t keep adding to the list of lives I ruin.”
“Honey, listen to me. I need you to take a deep breath.” You place your hand on his bicep, and try to speak with an appropriate mix of confidence and compassion.
“I’m doing it now!” He shakes his head vigorously, wiping away his tears as if evidence that he’s stopped crying will convince you to go. “You should be sleeping, please go back to sleep. You shouldn’t have to watch over me and make me feel better.”
“How long have you been feeling this way?” You whisper, fearing that if you spoke any louder your voice would break with your heart.
He took a while to answer, biting his lip and looking around before finally responding.
“Do you remember when we first met? In the garden?” He looks at you, eyebrows drawn. As if you could actually forget. You nod.
“I wanted to—” his voice breaks and he looks down— “I went… I was thinking about—” it cracks again, and his throat is constricting itself around the words he can’t say. “I was thinking I was really going to do it. I had basically decided. And then right as I was asking God for one more chance, one reason to stay alive—you appeared. I thought God sent me an Angel. A real Angel.” His eyes sparkle before dimming again. “I tarnish you. You waste your goodness on me, and the world needs it more.”
You don’t like where this is going. You know you need to reel him back in, and fast.
“Look at me, Bucky Barnes. Look at me.” You grab his face firmly and make sure he’s seeing you.
“I’m a burden.” He crumbles.
“Then be my burden!” You cry. “I want you to be my burden. Maybe without you, my life would be ‘easier.’ But I don’t want it to be if it means a life without you.” You search his blue watery eyes, wiping a tear that starts to leak from one. “I don’t fucking choose ‘easier.’ I choose you, Bucky. My choice is to be with the love of my life. And if that means skipping a couple hours of sleep to comfort you, and staying in on weekends, and crying with you, that doesn’t change the fact that I am the luckiest person on Earth. This is my choice too, Bucky. Do you hear me?” You place your hands on both of his arms.
He closes his eyes, takes a shaky breath, and nods.
“I choose you.” 
He nods again, and bites his bottom lip.
“I choose you.” You repeat, not once looking away from him.
He whimpers.
“Say it. Can you say it, please?” You don’t want to push him, but you need to know that your point has been made clear.
“You choose me.” He whispers, before falling into your embrace, and tucking his head into your neck.
“I do. I really do.” You say, holding back your own tears as you rub his back.
“I’m sorry.”
You know telling him he has nothing to be sorry for won’t work, so you instead answer by agreeing. 
“Me too. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way. I’m sorry you struggle to see how much I need you, too. But we are going to be okay, okay?”
He sobs harder, holding you tighter. You feel his warm tears start to stain your shirt under the thin robe. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you hum.
“Don’t leave me,”
“I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, bringing one hand up to the nape of his neck and start gently playing with his hair. “Are you ready to go back inside? Do you want to lay down with me?”
Without pulling away from you, he nods. You wait for him to let go of you before going to grab his hand and leading him to the bed, but he stops you. Instead of letting you show him the way, he decides to pick you up bridal style and carry you to your room, knowing he couldn’t wait until laying down to have your body pressed against his. 
Once you were both settled under the cozy blankets, your bodies facing each other, his head on your chest and your hand rubbing his back in circular motions, he spoke drowsily, exhausted from his breakdown.
“I love you.” He mumbled.
“And I love you,” You cooed, placing a small kiss on his forehead before drifting off into your dreamless sleeps.
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A/N: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. I know life can be a fucking shit show, but please stay alive. If you know someone who is struggling, consider reaching out to them. And if you yourself are struggling, please reach out to someone. And if you feel like there is no one to talk to, my asks/dms are open. You are not alone.
I don’t want anyone to read this fic and their takeaway is that if they have no partner, they are on their own. I choose you. Do you hear me? I choose you, and I implore you to choose yourself. Stay alive for yourself. Be spiteful against your depression. And if you’re one of those people who can’t help but say “I hate you,” to the mirror, and feel like you mean it, know that there is hope for you too. Because I was once that person. And with help, and time, I am able to say that I don’t hate myself. I can look in the mirror and appreciate who I am. Of course I still have my moments, but my point is that if you told me when I was at my lowest, that I’d one day be able to say “I love you” to the mirror without bursting out in tears, I’d call you a liar. 
(Sorry for making this A/N so long, hopefully someone can find comfort in it. I’m still here. And you should be too.)
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humansofnewyork · 10 months
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“Everybody gets butt hurt over words. The ‘Me Too’ movement was necessary. That was good. But then it just turned into everybody getting way too sensitive. You’ve got these people trying to create a bubble-wrapped world where they’re never going to hear a word that hurts them. Just so they can always be comfortable. It’s human nature to want to be comfortable. No problem with that. But if something makes you uncomfortable, you don’t get to make a rule that the rest of the world can’t say it. I give it another two or three years. There’s no way it can last. It’s happened over and over again throughout history: people get soft, then they get hard again. Just wait until the next really deep recession. It’s going to seem pretty self-indulgent to obsess over other people’s words. People are going to get strong again. And that’s good. I like strong people. It’s not that I dislike weak people. I just like strong people more. I was with my friend Christina the other day. She had her little boy with her, and she’s letting this kid run into everything. He’s running into things with his face and his head and his body. And Christina is letting him, because Christina knows. She went to state, she went to nationals. She almost became a professional softball player. Christina knows what it takes. And she doesn’t want her kid to be soft. That’s what I like. I like people who don’t want a trophy just for showing up. I like people who can hear a joke, or even an insult. If the words aren’t true then they shouldn’t bother you. But if the words are true, they should sting. Don’t hide from the sting. Embrace the sting. Feel the sting of the words and say: ‘I don’t like this.’ So I’m going to become a better version of myself, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically, until the words don’t sting anymore. Don’t hate yourself. Never hate yourself. Just hate the person that allowed you to become what you were, before ten seconds ago. Before you felt the sting. That person is disgusting. That person is unacceptable. That person must be destroyed.” 
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ceijoh · 2 years
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title: my wish is you 
summary: where his best friend is in love with him 
word count: 4k+ 
warnings/contents: angst, jealousy, insecurities, doubts, fluff (f!reader)
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You never once questioned your position in Atsumu’s life. You were his partner, his support, his home, the person he shares his weird jokes and thoughts with. 
You knew that he loved you the most, but you weren’t his first love. It didn’t matter to you, hell, you had your first love before Atsumu but he just wasn’t in your life anymore. However, it couldn’t be said the same for Atsumu. 
You knew their history; they were good friends in high school, became best friends in college and she’s stuck by him ever since then. She’s known Atsumu for longer than you have and that never bothered you. Relationships aren’t defined by time, they’re defined by feelings. You knew that they both held feelings for each other at some point but there wasn’t enough courage on either end to make it happen. 
Everyone thought they would end up together, until you showed up. You caught his attention right away.. There was something Atsumu felt that he’s never felt before. You and him just clicked on levels he wasn’t even aware of.
When he told you all of this, Atsumu half expected you to tell him to never see her again, which would hurt him but if he needed that for your boundaries he would. Though you never did. You understood their feelings, the situation they were both in, but she never tried anything, so why should you tell him to stop seeing her? Besides, he was with you, he chose you and not her to be with. 
He had enough courage to ask you to be his because even for one second, the thought of you slipping through his mind, he knew that he would have regretted it for the rest of his life. 
You were very neutral towards her, you tried to like her at the start of your relationship, you did for the sake of yours and Atsumu’s relationships but she never did. Or maybe she did try but it was the bare minimum. While you tried to make time to hang out with her, she always came up with the excuse that she was busy, however when it was Atsumu asking her it was always a resounding yes. 
You tried to turn a blind eye to some of her behaviours when you truly got serious with Atsumu. Calling him at night, the constant texts from her during the day, expecting to do the things she did with Atsumu before he got into a relationship with you. The way that whenever you three hung out together, or even in a group, she always made you somehow feel like the third wheel. Sharing the inside jokes that she and Atsumu have, the memories that you weren’t there to remember. It just hurt. 
--
You decided to bring it up with Atsumu one night, after dinner. Putting the last wet dish on the rack, you turned to him. Noticing your eyes on him, he placed his phone down and grinned at you. “Whatcha ya thinkin’ ‘bout, angel? 
Fiddling with your hands, you took a deep breath. “Remember when we first started dating, and how you told me that you and Sato-san had feelings for each other?”
Gone was the calmness Atsumu felt around you, and instead his heart picked up its pace. Where were you going with this? 
Noticing his change in breathing, you quickly rectified, “I know that you don’t have feelings for her anymore, ‘Tsum,” reaching over to grab his hand and squeeze it gently. “I just don’t think that she’s over you. Actually, I don’t think she’s ever gotten over you.” 
Now feeling at ease, knowing that you didn’t think of him being in love with someone else. “Does that bother ya?” At your glance, “Wait, don’t answer that!” 
Shrugging, “I mean I feel uncomfortable with her always asking for your time, cutting into our dates. I know she’s your best friend, ‘Tsum, but she’s just always there asking for your time. It seems like I can’t even go on a date with you because she somehow knows and calls you and interrupts us.” 
Atsumu knew you had a point but this was also one of his closest friends, “(Y/N), we just spent a lot of time together before, she’s just gettin’ used to it.” 
“It’s been three years, Atsumu,” you knew that he was going to defend her, you would have been shocked if he just took your word. “Do you or do you not remember what happened on our first anniversary?” 
Remembering back to the day, he did remember her texting him and calling him all day to remind him that they were supposed to have a gathering around Osamu’s place, something they often did. It just so happened that it fell on your anniversary night. The others were fine with it, knowing that your anniversary was more important than a casual night but she felt hurt. 
“No one that just sees you as a best friend does that,” you reasoned out. “No one gets hurt if you’d rather spend time with your partner than your friends.” 
Gulping you realised that this was probably the best time to let out all of the feelings you had about her. 
“It’s just every time we hang out with her, it feels like she’s the one that’s dating you and I’m just your friend. The memories that you share together with her, the jokes, I don’t have those ones that you always bring up when we’re around with your friends, Atsumu,” feeling the familiar prick of tears in your eyes, you quickly brushed them away, something Atsumu took notice of silently. 
“It makes me feel hurt, it hurts me. It feels like I don’t belong in this stupid little world that the two of you have together.” 
“I don’t have the years that she has with you Atsumu, I don’t have the memories of you falling over in front of the ice-cream truck, and how that started such a great summer. I don’t have that!” Gone was the rationality that you wanted when you started this conversation, instead the hurt, the isolation, the inferiority you felt around her was speaking. 
“I’m so worried that one of these days, you’ll wake up and feel like you made the wrong decision, that it was her all along, and I was just someone in the way of that,” noticing that you were crying openly, you brushed them away but it seemed like they never wanted to stop. Not able to speak anymore, you instead focused on your hands, tears still streaming down your face, a sniffle here and there. 
Feeling a wave of defence over his best friend, Atsumu sighed. “Look, (Y/N). I don’t think Michi is in love with me, okay?” He looked at you intently, “Yeah, she gets touchy sometimes and she brings up these memories but that’s the way she’s always been.” 
Flabbergasted that Atsumu just brushed your worries away, you scrunched up your brows. “Are you telling me that it’s all in my head? That her actions are just friendliness?” 
Atsumu didn’t say anything, which you took as confirmation. “What would happen if I did that! What would have happened if I did that with Genji?” At the sound of your first love’s name, Atsumu subconsciously grimaced. 
“How would you feel -as my boyfriend- if we hung out with Genj? The fact that I bring up all these memories that Genji and I share, that you weren’t a part of? How would you feel if I started hugging Genji longer than necessary, Miya?” You spat out. Yes, you were still hurt and angry but you thought your boyfriend would have at least pandered to your worries. 
The feeling of his heart clenching at the sound of his surname and your ex-boyfriend's first name in a sentence made Atsumu feel queasy. 
“I tell you that I’m worried that you’ll leave me for her, and you can’t even comfort me?” You spoke raising your voice, your nostrils flared and you clenched your jaw. “You were so willing to make up excuses for her, but you can’t even spare me some shitty words to comfort me,” scoffing you rolled your eyes. 
You mumbled something under your breath and stalked off without another word. Atsumu, feeling ashamed of the actions he just did, sat down on the couch. Never had you spoken like that to him before, relaying the conversation in his head, he knew that he rightfully deserved it. 
Why? Why did he feel such a need to make excuses for her? Why couldn’t he have just said the words he wanted to say? That he doesn’t care if they have a bunch of history together, his future only has you in it. He only wants a future with you and no one else. 
Walking into the bedroom, he expected to see you in bed curled away from him but all he saw was an empty bed. Panicking and his heart beating fast, did you leave? Where did you go? He quickly walked to the bathroom, sighing in relief when he saw your things were still there. Moving towards the spare bedroom, he turned the handle only to find out that it was locked. Something shattered within Atsumu when the door didn’t open. This has never happened. 
--
In the morning, Atsumu woke up, spread his hand out, ready to pull you into him. When he felt the empty space, he sat up, trying to get used to the sun, shaking his head. Where were you? When he remembered what happened last night, he clenched his fist and fell back into bed. 
Walking into the living room, Atsumu noticed you by the sofa, a coffee in your hand. His heart felt like it could crack in any minute, and he felt like shit. This was the first time in your relationship that you two decided to sleep apart and fuck, he never wanted that ever again. 
“Hey angel,” his voice was groggy, and he noticed that there was no breakfast. 
“Sorry,” you shrugged, “I just woke up. Had a shitty sleep.” 
Chuckling slowly, “Tell me about it.” 
You both shared a look, and Atsumu felt a little lighter. Walking over to the machine, he could feel your gaze on him. He knew he needed to sort this out now but with an important practice in a couple of hours, he knows he can’t. 
“I’m sorry about-” 
“It’s fine,” you cut him off sharply. “It was my fault to bring it up.” Finishing up your last sip of coffee, you placed it in the sink. “I have a meeting today, I’ll be late so there won’t be any dinner but you have plans with her don’t you?” 
You didn’t have to ask, it was their Tuesday night after all. Looking at your phone, you glanced back at Atsumu, “Actually, I’ll be in and out with meetings all day. Try not to text me, I probably won’t be able to respond.” 
Without another word, you walked up to your shared bedroom intent on getting ready as quickly as you can. 
Stunned at your cold and blunt words to Atsumu, something you’ve never done. Maybe in a teasing tone, but it was always accompanied by a smile. Just how much did he fuck up? 
It was thirty minutes since he last saw you, sitting by the couch sipping his coffee, looking through his phone. He heard you and looked up. Fixing up your blazer and moving quickly to the door, you looked at Atsumu. “I didn’t have time to make your bento today, but maybe she can, if you text her.” Without another word, the door shut. 
Whether it was a metaphor for your feelings with Atsumu, the man did not know. 
--
“Tsum-Tsum, where’s your lunch that (Y/N)-chan always packs?” Bokuto asked, noticing that his teammate just had some store bought pre-made lunch. 
Ashamed, Atsumu was quiet for a moment, earning looks from his three teammates. Hinata looked towards Bokuto and Sakusa who just shrugged in response, “Are you okay, Tsum?” 
Nodding quickly, Atsumu smirked and threw his arm around Bokuto, “Don’t ya worry Bokkun!” 
Tossing in a joke, Atsumu hoped his teammates would just let it go and not pay attention to the rising tension. 
--
“(Y/N) has never once missed making your lunch, even when she had a fever she still made something for you,” Sakusa’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. Turning to the black haired man, Atsumu watched as Sakusa narrowed his eyes at him. “So, what did you do?” 
Plastering a fake grin on his face, Atsumu gave him a thumbs up, “Nothing, Omi-Omi! Don’tcha worry!” 
Blocking Atsumu’s sidestep, Sakusa glared the older man down, “I am worried because my friend is not responding to me.” 
“But I am responding to you.” 
“I’m not talking about you,” Sakusa snapped. It was weird for Atsumu, two people that he cared for a lot, who he’s annoyed until they’re red in the face but never snapped or raised their voice at him, just in less than 24 hours. “Iwaizumi-san says that she’s not responding to him either. Talk.” 
Atsumu sighed in defeat, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave without indulging Sakusa with the problems with you. He didn’t want to tell more people about this, he wanted to fix this as soon as he could, and he’d rather not have other people interfering. Realising it was too late, as Sakusa and Iwaizumi knew of your behaviour, and knowing that if they knew, your other best friends and his brother would definitely know, Atsumu knew he was in deep shit. And maybe Sakusa can give him some advice.  
“I mean, can you blame her?” He turned to Kiyoomi who was staring at him with distaste. “I mean, you basically told your girlfriend that her feelings weren’t genuine. That she was just making it up in her head.” 
“I never said those words,” Atsumu spoke angrily. 
Sakusa just shrugged, “You implied it though. By not acknowledging her feelings, you gave her the assumption that you don’t care about them. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.” 
The younger man brushed off the invisible dust, and sanitised his hands, placing them in his pockets. He looked at Atsumu once. “You’re lucky that she didn’t break up with you,” Kiyoomi stated bluntly. “I wouldn’t fault her if she did.” 
--
Entering her house, something he’s done plenty of times, this was the first time it’s ever felt wrong. He could see her by the kitchen, she turned around giving Atsumu a beaming smile. He shouldn’t be here. This felt wrong. This felt like betrayal. 
“(Y/N) thinks yer still in love with me,” Atsumu began, no point in beating around the bush. Rubbing his face, tired of the day, tired of the fight, “But I said yer not, yer just sentimental.” 
Michi paused her movements, and turned around to face Atsumu. Heart beating in her chest, she tucked a piece of hair behind hair. This was it, this was the moment that she’s been waiting for. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, Michi finally said the one thing she’s been dying to say, “But, Atsumu, I do love you.” 
Atsumu sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, “Why now? Why now that I’m with (Y/N)?” 
“You knew, you always knew that we had something going on!” 
“And we never took a chance, did we?” Atsumu spat out. “That was both of our faults!” 
“We were supposed to end up together,” she mumbled, the confidence she had moments ago slowly disappearing. 
“We were kids,” Atsumu rebutted, fire in his words. “What I have with (Y/N), this is serious. This is what I’ve been wantin’ all along.” 
“We had that!” 
“We never did!” Atsumu was tired. He was tired of all of this, he didn’t expect this to blow up this big. “Maybe we had a taste of what could be, but what you and I had, does not and will never compare to what I have with (Y/N).” 
“I’ve known you for longer, Atsumu, I know you better than she could ever hope to,” she pleaded. “I’m in love with you, and I know that you’re in love with me. We were supposed to be together, it would have just taken longer.” 
Atsumu moved his mouth to say something, but all he could do was stare at her. He wanted to say ‘maybe in another life’, but the words couldn’t escape him. And he knew that if he said it, it would be a lie. In this life and any other lives that he has, the only person he wants to share them is with you. 
As much as Atsumu wanted to sit down and gather his thoughts, he needed this to get over as soon as he could. He needed to get back to you. 
“I know that I wasn’t ready back then, but now I’m ready for you. I’m here,” Michi glanced at Atsumu, at the man that she’s been in love with for the past decade. “I’m in love with you Atsumu and I want to be with you.” 
He couldn’t help but chuckle, there was his best friend, the person that once held his heart saying the words he once longed to hear. There was something disdainful in her tone, it felt wrong coming from her. It never did with you. It always felt right, like every time you said it a missing puzzle piece was completed inside of Atsumu. 
If it was a couple of years ago, Atsumu would have jumped at the chance but that was before you. Before you turned his whole world upside down and he finally realised what being in love meant. Just because Michi knew Atsumu longer, and she thought that she knew Atsumu deeper, everyone knew it was you. It was you that fit right at Atsumu’s side. 
You were the one that understood his moods, even before you began dating, you never once pushed him. You accepted how he felt and dealt with his emotions, and you were always there to give a hand if he needed or asked for it. It was the late night talks where he didn’t realise that he was already in love with you, it was the eagerness to see your face everyday. To talk to you everyday, to have those mundane and simple things that he despised before but then it was all he wanted to do, because he got to do it with you. 
It was the feeling of being complete with you. Michi completed him in a way that Atsumu knew, she fit into his world, she was best friends with him. But you were his world. You filled in spaces that Atsumu didn’t even realise were empty. The cracks that were filled with your laughter and soft kisses, the void that he ignored was filled with your soft whispers about the future. 
It never felt right until you. 
It’s always been you. 
With the lack of response, Michi bowed her head, “You’re choosing her, aren’t you?” 
Without a pause, Atsumu responded, “Yeah,” looking at her, Atsumu felt nothing. There was an air indifference surrounding her. “I’ll always choose her, no matter what.” 
Atsumu hopes that she understood what he said. Even if she begged, even if she pleaded for him to choose her, it would always be you. It’s always been you. 
Atsumu straightened his back, “I think this friendship needs to end, Sato-san. My relationship with (Y/N) will always be the most important, she’s the most important person to me. I’ve loved her more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and will ever love anyone.” Taking a couple of steps towards the door, “And I can’t have anyone doubting that for her.” 
It took ten years for her to say what she felt, and it only took Atsumu a couple of minutes to destroy her life, and a couple of steps to walk away from her forever. Dropping to her knees, Michi sobbed knowing that she was too late. 
--
You were sitting at the dinner table, the dinner ready to be eaten at any moment. Looking towards the door once you heard it unlocked, you saw as Atsumu walked in, taking a deep breath and looking right at you. 
Closing the door, he hastily made his way to you. Tugging you out of your chair gently, he wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry,” mumbling the words into your neck over and over again, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. 
“I ended my friendship with Sato-san,” shocked at the words coming out of his mouth, shocked at the use of her surname and the formality, you moved yourself a little bit from Atsumu. 
“‘Tsum, what?” 
Repeating what he just told you, Atsumu looked you right in the eyes, willing to believe his truth. “I’ll always choose you.” 
“‘Tsum, you didn’t have to do that. You could have just not spoken to her for a while, you didn’t need to cut her out of your life.” 
Atsumu shook his head, “I never want ya to ever feel like I’m second guessing who I chose, and I know yer,” tapping the side of your head with his fingers, he smiled down at you. “Ya get into yer own head way too much. If she was around, I know you’d always be comparin’ or thinkin’ with that big brain of yers.” 
“But aren’t you sad?” 
“I am,” Atsumu said truthfully. “But I know that I’ll get through it, with ya around,” nuzzling into your neck he couldn’t help continue, “but if it was you.” 
Looking at you, you could see his eyes watering, “If it was you, if I lost ya for some reason, I don’t think I’d be able to continue.” 
Gently cupping his face with your hands, caressing the apple of his cheeks with your thumb, “You never have to worry about me leaving you, Miya Atsumu. I’m yours forever.” 
“And I’ll always be yers, now and forever,” placing his forehead to yours, Atsumu felt his heart be at peace for the first time since last night. “I want ya for longer than forever, angel.” 
Grinning, you moved yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on the couch with you, him on top of you. “I’m more than okay with that.” 
Pulling you into his lap, Atsumu held your hands in his, “I’m sorry,” was what he started with. Tightening his hands, “I’m so sorry I ever made ya feel like that. I don’t care if I have ten years worth of memories with her because that means nothin’ with the forever I want with ya,” Atsumu began. “Those memories were what I remember most when we were kids, those inside jokes are just that, inside jokes with her.  What I want is the jokes we’ll pass down to our kids, the stories that we’ll share to our kids. The memories that I’ll repeat and say to you before I say ‘I do’. All the memories that I had with her, angel, don’t compare nothin’ to one memory I have with ya.” 
“Miya Atsumu,” you started, you could feel your heart beating against your chest rapidly. You never expected Atsumu to stop being friends with her. You truly just wanted for them to take a break. 
You knew he’s loved you since you first met because you were the exact same. The way he filled your world with his brightness, the way he always made you feel like his priority above everything else, when he made you feel seen and remembered. Above all else, you felt warm and safe with him. There was no one but Miya Atsumu for you. 
“You’re a great big sap, you know that?” 
“Angel, I just bared my heart out to ya,” groaning, he pinched your side, a cheeky smirk on his face. “And that’s why yer saying to me.” 
“That’s my heart too, mister,” leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his chest. 
Grinning down at you, Atsumu knew that you could feel his heartbeat, and he didn’t care. Whatever he felt for you he wanted you to know. 
“Yeah, princess, it is,” kissing the top of your head. “It’ll always be yours.”
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“Don’t make me choose between you and her.” 
“Why? Because you’ll choose her?” 
“Yeah. I’ll choose her.”
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happy early birthday, miya atsumu, you absolute disgusting goblin (affectionate).
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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months
Text
Joking- A Rosekiller microfic
Rosekiller - rated T for suggestive jokes - thanks @starchasersunseeker and @beautyoftheships for the inspiration and @starchasersunseeker for letting me use a pickup line!
It started as a joke. Barty had found an article in Witch Weekly about the “Worst Pickup Lines in History” and was reading them aloud to Pandora, who was curled up like a cat on the end of Regulus’s bed, giggling hysterically.
Regulus was only half paying attention. Until Evan walked in.
“Oi! Ev!” Barty called to him, looking up and grinning. “Are you my wand?”
“Erm. No?” Evan replied, looking thoroughly confused. “Why?”
Barty chuckled and smiled smugly. “Because I want to hold you all the time.”
Pandora, predictably, burst into giggles in the background, but Regulus looked up curiously to see Evan’s reaction. He was shocked to see the taller boy smirk and say, “Hold me where?”
Barty’s mouth popped open audibly, obviously shocked that Evan was flirting back.
And so it began.
-
It quickly became obvious that Barty had taken Evan’s reaction as a personal challenge. A dare to push Evan until he finally broke and admitted he was uncomfortable, or at least just joking. But Evan never wavered.
“Ev! Evan!” Barty yelled across the Common Room one day.
“Yeah?” Evan grinned, looking up from his game of chess with Dorcas.
“I’m not a Seeker. But I’d gladly catch you if you fell for me,” Barty called, eyes sparkling.
Evan surveyed him, face blank, before breaking into an evil grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re not a Beater, either. But I’d let you beat me off.”
Regulus couldn’t help but laughing at how flustered Barty looked as he left the room.
-
The jokes got more and more lewd, as if Barty was desperate to find the line that Evan wouldn’t cross. But somehow, Evan just threw even more hilarious quips back, all while straight-faced, making the normally-confident and unaffected Barty blush and stutter.
To Regulus, it seemed like some strange game of ‘Chicken.’ But neither of them was calling for mercy. And really, that suited him, because it was entertaining to watch.
-
The whole thing came to a head one night at a party, where alcohol had been flowing for a few hours before Barty decided it was again time to try to make Evan blush.
“Evs!” Barty called, smile a bit crooked and eyes glassy.
“What, Barty?” Evan asked, rolling his eyes, clearly knowing what was coming.
“‘re you a Dementor? Because you look like you want to kiss me!” Barty slurred, tripping a bit as he spoke.
But Evan’s response made all who were nearby go still.
“Maybe,” he murmured slowly, “I do want to kiss you. What’re you going to do about it?” He retorted with a shrug and a smirk, folding his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow.
“I-what?” Barty asked, eyes wide, and looking a bit more focused, now.
“Gonna kiss me, Barty? Or was this all just talk?” Evan asked tauntingly with a soft smile.
His smile grew triumphant when Barty began to stutter, unable to string two words together. Regulus chuckled to himself, entertained by the idiocy of his two best friends. He wondered briefly if they would ever do anything about their game.
-
Of course, his question was answered just a few short hours later. Barty came barging into their shared dorm room, eyes wild, looking like he hadn’t slept at all, coming to a stop in front of Evan. “What was that last night?” He demanded, ignoring Regulus completely.
“A party. Ever been?” Evan asked lightly, looking up from his Transfiguration book.
“I-” Barty seemed to shake himself and tried again. “No, I mean, what you said. About wanting to kiss me.”
Evan chuckled. “What, you can say things to me, but I can’t to you?”
Barty looked truly tortured, now. “But were you…you were joking, yeah? Like I always do with you?”
Regulus looked on as Evan seemed to consider his answer. “If I wasn’t?” he asked, jutting his chin up defiantly.
Barty made a strangled noise and lunged for the other boy, connecting their lips together in a way that suggested Regulus ought to get out now. But as he left, a shirt flying above his head, he swore he could hear Barty ask desperately, “So, you’re not joking, right?”
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ssavaart · 4 months
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Hey Scott!
Love you and your art tutorials. Really a big fan, you got me into painting again when I couldn't get out of bed due to depression. I love watercolor!
You being an idol of mine, I checked out your movie, Animal Crackers.... I don't know if you intended it to be that way... but I did feel uncomfortable over your representation of Roma people. As a Spanish partial Romani myself I was just surprised to see those stereotypes of mystic, over-sexualised fortune tellers. We have so much more in our culture! I'm pretty young myself but even at the time this movie came out I understood it wasn't the best take.
I'm not here to critique you. But I did use to see you as a role model. I try to separate that from the rest of the movie, and your past art from you as a person but its hard because otherwise, I know you are in favor of good representation. Could you please address this? Use it as an opportunity for growth? Acknowledge it used a slur?
I just want my rose tinted glasses back.
Love, Yair.
Hi Yair! Thank you so much for the lovely message. I'm so happy my videos helped you in any way. Regarding Animal Crackers. Thank you for asking. When I wrote the graphic novel for my 5 year olds back in 2008... the term "Gypsy" was commonly used for "wanderers with a hint of magic" in books, tv, and movies and it wasn't considered a derogatory term for Roma people. Not generally. I thought this to be true when I wrote the script in 2011. I thought this to be true when I made the film in 2014.
But when the film came out... I started to see comments on twitter and instagram and facebook with people calling the film "racist" for using the term Gypsy so much.
It was at this time in the fall of 2020 that I learned of the significance of this word and how it was used as a derogatory term for the Roma people. While it was not done intentionally, I take full responsibility for this. I wrote it. I had the actors use the words. I was the one who put it in the movie. The blame is completely on me and my ignorance. And I am truly sorry. Shortly after this, I reached out to the European Roma Rights Centre and got on a call with them and we discussed the history of the Roma people and how (if I get a chance to make a sequel) I can educate the world about the Roma people and how hurtful the term "Gypsy" is to them. I can't undo any harm I may have caused in my movie, but, hopefully, I can make some amends with a sequel, working with the European Roma Rights Centre to portray the Roma people in a positive light, and educating people on how harmful stereotypes can be.
Thanks again for asking
Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥
Scott
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1eoness · 11 months
Text
CHANGE.
cw: re4remake leon... just a lil more rude than usual. covers very sensitive topics: theft and surrogate prostitution (not mentioned), SUPERRR NOT CANON.
nsfw cw: DUBCON i think? (always practice safe and consensual sex) (slight-enemy smut idfk) dom!re4remake leon kennedy x sub! fem/afab-reader. size kink, creampie?? spit kink?? squirting?? mild degradation, pet names, feminine terms... straight up porn tbh i dont even know BRUHH WTFI DONT EVEN KNOW THE THINGS I WRITE
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[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵
synopsis :
your job is simple. as long as you exploit and delude the men at the top of the social pyramid, ada sponsored you with her safety and training. though, your naivete made it easy for ada to convince you that you weren't just some dirty pawn stationed in a particular estate—which happens to be leon's next mission area.
when he encounters you to perform your arrest, leon prays to any god up there that he has the patience not to mess you over for turning into the person you've become today.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿
"— just listen to me, damn it!" leon scolded as he tugged onto the metal that strung your cuffed wrists together, cutting your retorts off with your abrupt grit of pain. your insistence of denying his chances without hearing him out made you more irritable than you already were. "you have no idea what you're carrying. you're gonna start a fucking epidemic if you take that anywhere near ada, you understand?"
it was understandable. you were carrying a formula. some unethical, potent 'opium' derived from a variant of the t-virus. freshly baked by some ex-umbrella geeks, it was marketed to be an effective drug, planned to be distributed to some sort of paramilitary in spain to modify their strength to inexplicable heights (which was proved to be false, yet some arrogant virologists insisted it had potential, so unethical 'scientists' wanted to get their hands on improving it). that's all you know about it, anyway.
leon's true nature behind his words rooted from the fact that he was fucking worried for you and it's not only because of the position that ada put you in right now. that enigmatic woman, treating you like some guinea pig and you couldn't even see it. it surprised leon that you were even alive.
leon knew you way before ada discovered you in that dark junction, before you dropped out of police academy without a word and went back to your old ways of 'getting through life'.
leon was your role model. he was the first one to make friends with you while you stood 'incompetent' in that academy.
but people dug their eyes in you because of your history. all it takes is a few facebook searches and some names for the other fellow cadets to define you using your past. and when the awareness rose to leon, he was the first one to defend you.
the eidetic memory of you; you were sat on a hall bench with his jacket hung loosely over your dropping shoulders, gripping an unopened water bottle that turned lukewarm. your fingers felt numb from the tremors of anxiety, and the broodingly saddened look in your eyes.
he was knelt in front of his dear friend, trying to reassure you that people can change, and you were already making those efforts. his thumbs held your palms when with a serious tone, encouraged you into promising him that you will never change; because you are a sweet girl and you never deserved to be shamed for something you thought was your survival. within this promise, he also promised you that as long as you kept your self-faith you will never go back to what you hated being. you should've seen how genuine his smile look when you chuckled sheepishly, the flush on your cheeks earning a double reasoning.
and now, it pained him more to realize that he regrets not making another promise, one he held back from saying that night. don't leave him.
a very selfish, unwarranted yet passionate part of him believes that you'd been so cruel to him, abandoning him like that. and now you want to leave again?
now you're being reprimanded by the cop who you looked at like he was a hero.
where was the bright cadet in those eyes, the one that looked up to him?
and it was just great of you to articulate further on how much he underestimated your stubbornness."i'm slowing you down. if it's not me (who will escort the sample), it's gonna be ada. you thought she was a one-man job? that you can somehow negotiate with her because you guys fucked once? my god, have you ever changed?-" out of being so naive? but the words don't follow because he knows you were going to say it.
leon's hand slid from your back to grip harshly at the back collar of your shirt, lifting your chest up from the table abruptly. he locked eyes with you, hidden tension bubbling the air like odorless toxins. he scoffs, and his low voice turned deliberate as he tried to spell the irony out for you. "ada. doesn't. work with people. she uses them, and you're not some 'special exception'."
and it's true, he knows it all too well..
"she uses... people like you." you were quick to correct him indignantly with a struggling breath. leon knew nothing about you and ada. ada was like a big sister to you. she taught you what you couldn't learn at police academy. she understood where you came from, and she knows the lowest moments in your life. but leon knew all of that too, didn't he?
"you know why?"
he scoffs. "enlighten me." and there was a subtle increase of tightness in his grip, eyes narrowing down at your bent-over body in anticipation.
"'cause you're a fuck up, kennedy."
upon hearing your quips, he thought maybe he should add a small noise of pain to it, because he flushed you further against the surface with a force that hinted irritation. he had enough of this pointless hissing. "listen, y'little bitch..." he gruffed with the mere frustration surging his voice. he's probably never addressed a woman like that, but oh, how people can shift within the span of their emotion. "you have the sample, now tell me where it is. and if you have it, then you know what to do."
leon wasn't confident that you had the item on you, knowing ada was most likely using you as a decoy. he didn't want to hurt you. even if you've looked like you've changed; to him, you haven't..
of course you were holding the "formula", leon was just dumb enough to think you actually had it on you. your eyes fluttered before you laughed emptily in heavy breaths, peeking over your shoulder whilst he did not let up on you. your torso was starting to fucking hurt. but so was your pride. "then come get it, rookie." you baited.
you ignited an internal burn he didn't even know he had. one that reached the peak of its abrasion.
"..fuck you." he growled inaudibly before you yelped, feet off the ground. and fuck ada, too.
‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ ♡ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿
if you were gonna keep acting like a brat, he was going to fuck you like one.
his hand came behind your head, locking your hair in a tight grip while you felt his tongue glide against yours in a messy kiss. an overwhelming amount of affectionate frustration surged as he propped you up firmer on that desk. he ate your whines as he tired your damp mouth out, the rising feeling of grudge-rooted sexual frustration pining somewhere inside him hotly.
"why do you hate me so much, mmm?" he gasped quietly for a breath, his hand letting go of your hair and holding both sides of your hips, hastily pulling your pants up mid-thigh. he needed to be inside you, he just needed it so bad..
"cause you're .. hhah.. y-you've become too cocky f'your own good, kennedy-" leon scoffs at the sight of you drooled up with the trails of mixed saliva. you're sure that's not you? you could've fooled him, you were fucking sopping—trails of your essence sticking to your underwear. it made him moan low in desperation. he wanted to lick it all up. "is that right.." he muttered with utter lack of amusement as his cold thumb glided over your fluids absentmindedly, spreading one fold apart slightly to get a better look. his eyes soften, breath hitching knowing it's gonna feel so good inside you.
"d-definitely too cocky!-" you insisted with a contrast whine that emitted from your sweet voice, expecting him to start off with letting you adjust to his tip first. but you're hopeless for thinking leon would ever go soft on you just because you only remember the "naive" version of him years ago. people change, right?
you were suddenly squirming when you felt him fill and thrust into you thickly, humbling your little cunny as it pulsated. dumb little bunny, leon thinks to himself, watching you start to fluster and retort weakly beneath him with your ankles on his shoulders.
his hand comes up to your head, smacking your cheek swiftly. "shut up. shut the fuck up." he growls, eyes narrowing mildly, holding your cheeks with one hand as he pried your little mouth open. his thoughts were so guiltily dirty, wondering how cute your throat would look filled with his cock. he'll have to try another time, though, wouldn't he? for now his ring and middle finger deliberately slide into your tongue, savoring the minor 'hhnnn' that lolled out of your sticky tongue as your eyes peered up at him glassily.
the words 'fuck me' were written all over your eyes when his gaze locks down to yours. and could he resist such a pretty baby?- why were you so pretty?
it's a shame that you made so much effort to treat him indifferently, calling him by his last name and all...
your vision felt cloudy given that you were full of leon. but you catch glimpse of the way he smirks at himself before he leans down much closer to your face, folding your legs over and not giving a fuck if it hurts. the simple shift in angle had you crying out as his tip grazed over the right spots.
he spits a string of saliva down into your forced-open mouth, hoping it would furtherly aid in getting you to shut up over something so trivial. "so fucking dirty..." his fingers gently traced your bottom lip while he whispers with mock-disgust, yet it's laced with affection- a twisted pair of feelings that has him needing you at incalculable rates.
his hands come down to the exposed flesh of your hips, fingers dipping into your skin as he holds you still on his girth. it felt even better when you could feel his bulging size rub up inside you hastily— the way he was fucking you fervently and not letting you get away. you're never fucking leaving his sight, or his mind.
"h-how's this for.. uhh-..nngh.. being cocky? huh?" he groaned roughly after stammering with the embers of his frustration. leon's frustrated that he can't speak without stammering, so he takes it out on you with punishing thrusts that have you sobbing louder, mending his ego by ruining yours. he's stripping your pride away with each push into your sweet spots.
you gave in, vulnerable as you started to blabber from the way you were getting your breath knocked up. "hnggghh.... ahh!-.. l-leon!~ n-not there!-"
"there it is.." he mutters to himself sweetly mid-fucking-you-full. you're finally talking to him properly, how cute.. "more, baby?" he taunts with a struggling moan but he doesn't let you react; the only reaction he wants is you reducing beneath him, proving it by his fingers bruising your skin as he rammed into you in a desperate pace. "ngghh uhh.. fuck-" he whines loudly, your hole squelching uncontrollably as he fucks the juices out of you with every sweet drag of his sensitive shaft.
you turn him so soft he hates you for it.. he has such a soft spot for you, doesn't he?
"fuuck, this pussy's.. so good.." his eyes were half-lidded, moaning adorably before whining about the fact that he's about to spill a load inside you. "f-fuck, 'so good, please- mnnnnghh- aahh!~" his voice wavered, still driving his cock into you as he breaks through his limits and makes himself whimper gently, tears softening his eyes.
oh but his poor baby, creaming around his shaft so quickly and relentlessly, only to continue being rutted into like a little toy ♡. he coats your sweet little hole with his cum, flooding and painting it all over as his tip poured deep inside of you with a thick, milky warmth that pooled on the varnished wood.
you weren't even speaking anymore, your words melting on your tongue. he doesn't understand a damn thing you're saying but he doesn't need you to speak, he just needs you to feel good.
"fuck... uhhhnn!~.. fuck me, please, baby.." he blathers before he found himself whining at the way your cunt pulsates, eyes teasing at you subtly while he holds your cheeks together in his domineering hand. he doesn't even pull out much, just shoving and grinding his girth into your creamed-up cunny and making you endure the crushing pleasure. his hands scramble to push against the back of your thighs, folding them to let him fully fill up into your already deflowered, milky vulva.
"n-no, g'nna- leon!" your mind goes into total shudder as your back arched, having him hold your hips in place as you started to gush all over his stuffy girth.
"ohh, mhmm.. that's it, sweet girl.." leon knows you feel good, seeing you cry flusteredly while he still thrusted in you to lengthen the feeling of you cumming. he tore at your pride, pulling out the vulnerable version of yourself he hasn't seen in a long time. especially when you reach up for him like you wanted a hug. that did it for him.
he leans down to pick you up, your legs dangle tiredly around his waist. he's sorry to whoever's bed it was that he laid you down on. he whimpered softly into the fabric of your shoulder while trying to regain his stability. you could faintly feel him pepper tame, short kisses on it mindlessly.
he nuzzles into your skin. "you wanna be a good girl f'me?" he murmurs into your neck breathily.
"mhmm.."
"then get on your knees." leon lets go from holding you—letting you scramble onto all fours.
he stuffs himself back inside your sensitive hole like he's aching for it, making you wail with struggle. with your legs aimlessly sprawled on either side of him, he makes sure you don't stray from him by holding your hips again. the flesh spilling between his fingers as he pulls you closer like he's scared you'll run away. his hips move irrationally, wanting to make sure he's hitting it good, all the right spots again, just for his baby. he's so sensitive it starts to throb, masochistic urges as he overstimulates himself ceaselessly.
"hhhngh... you can't just.. come around- and then leave- like it's nothing!-" leon babbled whiningly between his forceful thrusts, his pace increasing with incessant speed. you could feel his fingers nimbly moving through your scalp, leon's hand holding the back of your head down onto the fluff surface where your cute little cries of pleasure went in vain.
you couldn't take it but leon made you, his constant rutting inside you even after cumming doesn't pause. he's suffocating this way but he doesn't even care. he's so loud behind you, fucking into your messy cunt like it hurts real good.
his attention is divulged slightly when he sees a little glow on the pocket of your shirt. how didn't he spot that? his hand snakes over your breast, fingertips swiftly snagging the high-tech vial and shoving it somewhere in his remaining clothing.
you yelped. ada was going to kill you. "h-hey!-" he notices you trying to look behind you but his hand is quicker, turning your head forwards with a gentle grip of his hand. he muffled your face into the sheets with the force of his hand holding your head, and he snaps his hips faster just to have you all adorable and crying for him again. "y'c-can't take tha-" oh, but what were you going to do about it?
he starts deliberately making up mistranslations of what you wanted to say. "mm, what's that, sweet girl? you want more?... oh, i know, baby, oh shh.. i got'chu, you're so good, huh? uhhuh.." he encouraged amidst fucking you back into a state of distraction, a hazy smile to himself while he considers his mission accomplished.
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fan-goddess · 1 year
Note
Hello lovely xo, can I request Aemond reuniting with his childhood love/crush at a feast after not seeing her for six years.
Author Note: Hi love of course you can! I wrote so much more for this than I thought I was gonna write I really took of, plus after looking back at the request I didn’t make them meet at a feast… still I hope your happy!
Word count: 5.3K words
Warnings: None explicitly needed, though reader is described as being female, kissing stuff and insecurities
Other Links: My Ewan Mitchell masterlist for more Aemond content
Taglist: @blue-serendipity
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Aemond was one and ten when he first laid his eyes on you, the daughter of Tyland Lannister.
You had golden hair that resembled Sunfyres scales. Your eyes were green like grass. Oh and your smile, it could light over a thousand lanterns. He easily thinks the best part about you was that smile…
The first time Aemond saw you up close was in the library. He was researching Daenys’ prophecies when he heard a strange thumping noise go off within the shelves.
“Hello?��� He called out. “Is anyone here?” An annoyed scowl taking over his face when no one showed up immediately to take credit. He went back to reading, though soon he became too on edge to even get past another sentence. What if there was actually a person hidden in the shelves and they wish to kill him?
Aemond put down his book and walked into the shelves, peeking round the corners to see if anyone lurked there. He looked for a couple minutes, shifting from his least favourite section the poetry books to his favourite the section on Targaryen history.
That’s however, when he sees golden hair peeking from the sides of the display. He doesn’t choose to call out to them, in fear the mysterious person will flee and he’ll never get to see them. Aemond slowly takes out his dagger and stalks towards the person, his heart beating rapidly at the possibility of a fight taking place.
When he turns the corner though, with his dagger held high and stance ready to take a fight, he feels his heart is about to burst from his chest when he sees you innocently sitting on the ground with a book in your lap. You seem to be asleep, as the pages aren’t being turned and your neck seems to have laid itself in an uncomfortable position.
He places his dagger back in its hold and kneels forward to take a look, and to see if you truly are sleeping. He nearly smiles when he sees how innocent you look in this view. Though Aemond knows he should not be jealous at that moment, and goes to wake you up as carefully as he can.
“M-my lady…” He all but whispers, gently taking the book from your lap. His restraint shows well as his hands attempt to not caress the skin that’s being revealed from your slightly ridden up skirt. “My lady, I think you need to wake now.” He uses one hand to gently shake your shoulder and the other to grasp your chin and pull your head up. His restraint is tested once more when his thumb nearly brushes over your lips.
Aemond is ever so grateful when you let out a small groan and groggily open your eyes. It’s almost amusing when your eyes turn panicked when you realise the situation you were in. “M-my prince I am so sorry!” You shout. Attempting to stand up but you nearly fall over in the struggle. “P-please do not punish me for being here!”
Aemond cannot help but give an amused smile at your panic. “It’s okay my lady!” He smiled, now standing up to be level with you only to embarrassingly realise you were taller then him… “What is it you were reading?”
You look confused now. Probably wondering why he isn’t kicking you out and demanding your head for sneaking in. “It is not a trick question my lady. What is you were reading?”
“I was reading about your own dragon my prince…” Aemond had to strain his ears to hear what you said, but when he does his ears turn scarlet. You were specifically looking at his dragon and not Sunfyre or Caraxes? Even the book of Balerions journey could’ve been the one you were reading about but no, you chose to look into Vhagar. It made him smile almost cockily.
“And why my dragon in particular?” He grinned. If his mother was there she’d not be happy he was fishing for compliments from a Lannister, yet she wasn’t here at that moment to see the pride that filled him so he carried on anyways.
“She’s an important part of your family’s history! Her nickname is Queen of the dragons which is one of the best names for any of the dragons both still alive and dead!” The way you ramble about his dragons makes his ears burn and smile somehow both bashful and yet cocky at the same time.
Aemond nearly invites you to go meet Vhagar the moment he sees you begin to smile at him, though it takes all his restraint to just talk to you about Vhagar. The two of you become more and more passionate in your conversation and continue to talk until the shelves become dark and nearly impossible to see.
Aemond insists on escorting you to your temporary chambers, secretly relishing when you insist bashfully that you could very easily escort yourself. “I insist my lady you do not know the sort of people that hang around in the corridors of this castle. My brother being one of them…” He relishes even more when he hears you giggle and shyly accept his offer.
The next morning though, when he’s washed himself thoroughly and dressed himself as fancy as he could without Aegon picking up on his intentions, Aemond walks to your chamber doors and knocks nervously. For all he knows you could be half dressed, or still asleep, or even taking a bath… He’s only half sorry when his mind begins to wonder.
Aemond does begin to worry when he stands outside of your chambers for nearly ten minutes and he hears no movements. He takes a deep breath before heading into your chambers, and takes notice of its near pristine state. “My lady?” He calls, even though he knew secretly that it was useless to call for you. He does a little walk around the room to see if he could tell why your presence seems to have left the room.
The sheets and the bed covers are pulled tightly and tucked into the bed. The personal items Aemond had managed to get a small peek at when he brought you to your room last night looking as if they were never their in the first place. The room looked as if nobody had ever slept their that night.
The lack of life in the room made Aemonds skin crawl. Maybe you weren’t even there in the first place? A cruel figment of his imagination that made him believe for a short time he was normal. So he went to the first person he thought could help. His mother.
“Mother, I visited the Lannister daughter this morn to invite her to break fast with us, but she was not there and her room was empty. Do you know why this is?”
“Yes my sweet boy. The girl and her father were summoned back to Casterly Rock near late last night. It seems the lady Lannister had started her labours earlier than the maesters would have liked.” His mother said, looking to her son in sympathy when she saw the saddened look on his face.
“Do you know if she- I mean if they’ll return when her mother has given birth?” Aemond could not help but try and be hopeful, even if he knew their was no chance of it being anything like that.
“I doubt it, sweet boy. The mother has gone into labour nearly a month earlier than expected. I highly suspect the babe may not survive, so they will no doubt wish to mourn the child if it does pass.”
Aemond tried to stop the frown that he could feel was stretching on his face, though it was no use. His mother had already seen it and was looking at him like he was weak. Like he was a silly boy with just a silly crush on a silly girl.
That was the moment Aemond devoted himself to leaving that silly boy behind. Soon he’ll become a man. Maybe it was all secretly so you’ll want to marry him just as much as he secretly wishes to marry you… but he’ll never admit to that.
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It’s been six years since Aemond last saw you. He secretly writes letters to you every week, imagining you receiving them and holding them to your chest in excitement. He has never forgotten you. Late at night when he goes to sleep he secretly always wishes for dreams of you to keep him company. None that are dirty of course! Though Aemond didn’t complain when he had one every once in a while…
“Aemond did you hear what I just said?” His mothers voice broke him out of his thoughts.
“No mother I was thinking about, things.”
“Well, as I was saying. We will be hosting the Lannisters for a ball for their eldest daughter starting next week. Her father wishes for her to stay here in kingslanding for a year to give her a better chance at finding a potential and acceptable suitor for her. I believe she’s around your age Aemond...” Aemond could feel his heart beating out of his chest. You were coming back here? He’ll finally get to see you again and see how much you’ve no doubt changed after all these years…
“A marriage with the Lannisters will no doubt be helpful in the long run. I suggest talking to her before anyone else. Her house is a useful ally, though her father will no doubt attempt to go for whoever possess the larger coin pouch.” His grandsire commented halfheartedly as he tucked into his food. Aemond only gave a simple nod before retreating back to his mind, indulging in the simple fantasy of seeing you again.
The rest of that week, Aemond could not take you out of his mind. He had not acted like this since you left six years ago, and it was easy to tell. He was less enthusiastic in his training with ser Cole, thinking of how when you were his bride you’d be sitting proudly on the balcony watching him. He couldn’t read peacefully in the library, only thinking back to how he first met you and how much you truly made him smile that day.
Thankfully to Aemond though the week went surprisingly quickly, and before Aemond knew it he was standing proudly yet nervously for your carriage to pull up and for you to come out.
He’d put on fresh clothes that morning and requested to have a bath drawn for him. He took an awful long time making sure every single part of him was clean and that his hair held no sweat or grease of any kind. Aemond could not shake the look of amusement from both Aegon and his mother, both taking notice of Aemonds sudden pristine condition and nervous exterior.
When the carriage carrying your house colours arrived, Aemond felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Would you even recognise him? Would you even be the same girl he met and talked to all those years ago?
Aemond nearly lets his mouth fall open when you walk out of the carriage, and only just catches the actions before he could embarrass himself anymore than Aegon will no doubt bring upon them.
Your hair still holds the same golden colouring to it, the sun looking like it was reflecting off it. Your figure has quite obviously changed in the years you were gone, the most prominent ones being the fact you’ve… matured. It’s almost amusing to him that you’re shorter than him, when before you were the one who looked down at him as children. Your smile though, that has not changed at all.
He sees the way Aegon leers at you when you curtsy to his mother and thank her for his families hospitality. It brings him such a great amount of joy to kick Aegon swiftly and firmly in the legs when your back is turned talking to Helaena.
Over the next few days, as much as Aemond hates to admit it, he has been hiding from you. Aemond cannot bring himself to strike up a conversation with you, possibly due to a fear that he refuses to acknowledge.
Though he cannot deny the jealousy that takes over him when he sees you laughing with Aegon of all people. When you laugh, you hold your hand in front of your mouth, a trick taught to all young ladies according to Helaena. Though he believes it to be a terrible thing, as it hides the way your face lights up when you’re overcome by laughter.
Aemond even finds himself jealous of Helaena, who you seemed to have grown close to in the last few days. From what he has observed, the two of you like to sit under the tree in the courtyard and discuss a whole manner of items Aemond cannot hear from where he observes on a nearby balcony.
He’s disgusted with himself for acting like some common man, though even though he knows it’s morally wrong he still cannot bring himself to stop. As long as he cannot bring himself to talk to you, he watches you to bring himself a strange sort of comfort. To know that you are okay and safe and nowhere near himself.
Though it seems that you have been upholding a different idea, as one moment when Aemond is looking at you talking with Helaena, he sees you turn to him, look him dead in the eye and show him a kind smile. He can feel his eye widen in the sudden acknowledgement and hide behind a nearby pillar. It brings secret relief to hear your giggle. Assuring him that you are not disgusted as he is in his nature, and that instead you are amused by it for some unknown reason…
Aemond looks around the corner, expecting to see you resuming your conversation with another one of your beautiful smiles on your face, though he is scared nearly out of his skin to find you face to face with himself. It takes him a near minute to find words. No amount of words that he had read over the years seemed to come to him no matter how much he willed it.
“I-I’m sorry for intruding on you my lady Lannister!” He stammered with a bright red face. Aemond does not think he has ever felt as sheepish or as shy as he has at that moment. His face only reddens though when you seem to giggle at him, whether in amusement or in mocking he does not know.
“It is fine my prince.” You smile. Aemond cannot help himself from comparing your voice to the one you possessed as a child. It’s gotten lighter, he thinks. Before you seemed to be shy to talk to him, though that may have been more to do with circumstances rather than who you were talking to, and now your voice held a sense of ease. “Me and your sister were merely nibbling on some honey cakes and talking about the silly things? Would you care to join us?”
When he takes too long to respond, purely out of surprise that you wished for him of all people to join you, you seem to have taken his silence in the wrong context. “You do not have to join if you do not wish to participate in silly lady gossip-“
“Nonsense!” Aemond blurts with a shyness that brings him nearly straight back to his boyhood. “I would be honoured to join a lady such as yourself my lady for what you called, silly lady gossip.” Aemond cannot describe the joy he feels when he sees your reddened cheeks and happy smile. It should be you the painters should be painting, not himself when there’s such obvious other beauties in this world.
The roles are reversed however, when you take his hand in your own and lead him to where you and Helaena were previously conversing. It takes every fibre of his being to not send a cold glare in Helaenas direction. Especially when she sends an amused look and a raised eyebrow his way at the sight of his flushed cheeks and awkward expression.
It surprises Aemond though, when he finds himself enjoying what he had thought would be a dreary conversation. It brings a smile to his face when he makes you laugh so hard you forget to put your hand in front of your face. He even nibbles politely on a couple of the fresh honey cakes you offer him bashfully.
When the supposed picnic is over, Aemond is prepared for you to go off with Helaena and leave him. Though it surprises him when Helaena says her goodbyes, claiming she has a duty she needs to fulfil, and you turn to him with a small sheepish smile. “Do you wish to head to the library with me, my prince? I feel it has been an age since we had a conversation.”
It brings every part of him to answer normally. “I would love to my lady.” With a small smile. One that he doesn’t think he’s ever displayed to anyone else outside his family. He’s delighted that you also share a similar blush that’s painted across both of your cheeks.
Aemond wishes he could start a conversation with you. Though whenever he turns to you all he finds himself doing is turning straight back to the corridor looking straight ahead.
When he and you get to the library, he shyly holds the door open for you to go first. Delighted in the slight blush that appeared at his politeness. He notices how you seem to look around in awe and is delighted that you seem to hold the same love for books as you did as children.
“The library has expanded since the years you have been gone, my lady. I believe near a few hundred couple books were added since.” Aemond smirked. It was a strange get definitely not an unwelcome sight to see someone be as passionate about literature as he did. It easily became a bore when he had to handle people like his brother, who he doubted at this point of his life could even read at all…
“It’s still as beautiful as it looked the last time I saw it…” You whispered, looking at him in an awe. Aemond cannot help himself from wishfully thinking that you were saying that to him. That you’d whisper into his ear how you believe he’s beautiful even after all those years apart.
He’s soon knocked from those blissful thoughts when a pain hits his eye socket and he hisses lightly, gaining your attention. “Are you alright my prince?” You asked in concern, moving to be before him.
“It is alright my lady…” Aemond hisses. “It’s merely a side effect of my deformity…”
“Is there any way I could help?” Aemond could not help but look up at you to see if you were genuine, and by the way you anxiously held a hand to his shoulder and knelt down to him to get a look at his injury he felt like you were.
“I have a balm which the maesters found to help when the pain flared like this…” Aemond cannot help himself from confessing. It felt so strange and unnatural to be talking so freely about his ailment with another person. Though you weren’t just another person. It was you. “It should be in my left breech pocket. If you would be so kind as to grab it for me, my lady, I can apply it myself.”
Aemond attempts to hide the way he gulps when he feels your warm hands on his thighs, fumbling to find the small tube containing the balm. It probably would’ve been more effective if he had told you what the balm was in, though at that moment he cannot stop himself from indulging in your touch as you modestly fumble for it. Even when you do find the tube and remove your hands from him he finds himself missing that small warmth. “Thank you, my lady.” He murmurs, releasing his hold on his eye to unscrew the tube lid.
He’s about to apply it to his eye, when Aemond realises something vital about the process. He’d need to take off his eyepatch, and you’re still in the room watching him concerned. “I’m about to take my eyepatch and I don’t wish for you to be disgusted and feel like you need to watch this…” Aemond cannot bring himself to look at you, in fear you’ll look as disgusted at the mention of looking at him without his patch.
He’s brought out of his self pity though when he feels a sudden warmth on his cheek. Your hand. It’s almost embarrassing the way his cheeks suddenly flush at the realisation.
“I don’t care about your scar, my prince. I have seen far worse from my brothers in the training field.” You smile. The blush on his cheeks does not seem to want to leave, though by the matching colouring that appears on your own cheeks he’s glad.
“You do not need to continue calling me my prince, my lady. You can call me by my name.”
“Okay Aemond. Then I must then insist you call me by mine.”
“If you say so Daena. Though like I said, if you truly do not wish to see my ailment then I suggest you turn away now…” Aemond cannot help himself from near preening at the honour of saying your name out loud in your presence.
“And like I said to you Aemond, you strike no such thing as disgust nor fear in me. In fact, I think I’d dare say what it is you strike me with are the exact opposite.” You smile, not realising just how effective your words were affecting him. Maybe if he was braver, then he would’ve asked exactly what you meant by that. But he didn’t. Instead, Aemond removed his eyepatch and applied the balm to his eye, before covering the area once more and acting like the moment never happened.
Over the next few days, Aemond spent all he could with you, abandoning all his previous plans so he could see you and make you smile. It still brought a chill down his spine to hear you speak his name while you smile and place a delicate hand on his arm. This new pattern that Aemond has developed though is broken, when he heads to your usual spot to find you conversing with Aegon. Or more accurately, Aegon conversing with you while you looked uncomfortable. It only gets worse when Aegon spots him marching towards him.
“Ahh brother! I was just telling lady Lannister all about the pink dread!” Aegon smiled with a cup of some unknown substance. Aemond felt his heart stop in panic. He does not dare to look in your direction, in fear he will see pity within your sweet green eyes. Aemond does not even dare to utter a response to Aegon’s taunt, leaving with his hands clasped firmly behind his back as he feared if he wasn’t clutching his hands, he’d be clenching his fists and punching Aegon’s face till it was shining red with blood.
When Aemond arrives in the library, he attempts to distract himself from his horrid self-pity by rereading one of his favourite pieces of literature, Valyrian dragons and where to find them. A fantastic book playing on both fiction and non. He becomes so enamoured with the writing he does not hear the doors open and delicate footsteps coming towards him. It’s only until he hears a small cough he looks up only to meet your eyes.
“Hello Lady Lannister. What brings you here? Has my brother either bored you of my childhood sorrow or run out of stories to tell?” Aemond scoffs, returning to the page on Dreamfyre.
“I though I told you to call me by my name Aemond?” You said, not moving from your spot.
“Apologies Daena. Tell me, did you enjoy when my brother was telling you tales of how he humiliated me as a boy?” Aemond closes the book, marking the page with a random piece of paper before looking at you.
“No, I must confess I did not. If I am to put it plainly and honestly Aemond, I believe your brother to be an absolute pest and a prat.” Aemond let’s a scoff of laughter at your unladylike language, though it certainly is correct.
“I cannot agree more with you Daena. It’s a surprise my brother has even lived till now. I believe any day well here such sad news on Aegon dying in some brother or ale house. Maybe both if he’s lucky?” Aemond cannot describe the joy he’s feeling, nor can he begin to fathom just how much his heart is racing.
“I think I walked about not long after you did. It took everything in me to not strike him there and then. Especially after seeing how unhappy you seemed to become when he mentioned that pink dread.” Aemond once again looks away at the mention of that dreaded tale. He cannot bring himself to see the pity once more than used to fill so many eyes at the sight of him.
“Do you, do you feel disgust for me? Or even pity?” Aemond murmurs so quietly he didn’t even know if you had truly heard him until you knelt down to be level with him.
“Aemond, I feel a lot of things for you. None of them are anything of the sort that could be even compared to disgust or pity.” You smile again and Aemond feels like his heart will burst from his chest. If you requested it at that moment, Aemond would’ve ripped his heart out then and there and handed it to you on a plate made of pure Valyrian steel. It takes everything in him to swallow the lump in his throat and speak. “May I ask what these emotions you feel for me are? The ones that you claim cannot be compared to disgust, or pity…”
“The feelings I feel for you Aemond are ones that I do not think I am even allowed to tell you of…”
“I do not care,” Aemond now almost desperately grasps onto your hands within his own. He is so close to possibly hearing what he has wanted for more than six years. Your love. “I would kill any who dare to oppose you sweet Daena.”
“You are beginning to sound like your ancestor Maegor the cruel Aemond.”
“It is worth the title and the bloodshed if I am to hear what I hope to hear be uttered from your lips.”
“And what is it you wish uttered from my lips?”
“That you feel a fraction of the same way I feel for you…” Aemond can feel his heart beat from his chest. The library has gone silent. A notion he used to enjoy but now hates more than ever. “Please Daena. Tell me what it is you feel for me so I can no longer feel like my heart is beating straight out of my chest when I see you! So I can no longer think of you as I have been doing for the last six years you have been gone! So I can leave you and never bother you again with my unrequited devotion for you…”
Once again the library’s silence becomes overwhelming as Aemond stares at you in both hope and fear. Your face does not betray you, staring only blankly at the intertwined hands of yours and his.
“What I feel for you Aemond, I think in all the books we have both read and the stories we have shared amongst each other, can only be described as pure devotion to you and only you…” This is when your face reveals a sweet sweet smile that sends Aemonds own face into a blood red blush. “I too thought of you, nearly everyday since my departure. Of that sweet boy who listened to me while I rambled on about a topic he already know plenty of yet still craved for more. That sweet boy who insisted on walking me to my chambers even though he did not have to. That sweet boy, who has grown into such a handsome man, that I think my heart grew fonder the moment I saw you when I stepped from my carriage. I must say though, I was disappointed that you did not send any letters to me in all these years.” You seem to jest.
“I didn’t want you to think of me as an eager boy and a prat…” Aemond reveals with a slight blush, looking down at the ground. It only worsens when he feels you take a hand from his grip and place it on his left cheek to tilt his head up. “I could never think of you like that my sweet Aemond…” He feels his face grow to a deeper red as it spreads all over. He can even feel his ears burning. He stays content in your hold though, Aemond does not think he has ever felt safer in your grasp than he ever felt in his life.
“I do not know if you read those sorts of books, Aemond,” You begin to speak, drawing Aemond from his daze. “But when I was younger and read those old romantic books where the man got the girl he loved, he’d always kiss her…” You grin. Aemond reciprocates it fully, picking up on your definitely not so subtle suggestion.
“Are you suggesting sweet Daena I kiss an unmarried woman in this very room, where there is no one but us?”
“No no my darling,” Aemond can feel his heart go mad at the name you give him. “I am simply asking you to kiss the woman who loves you back with all her heart.”
“Then I guess I have to make my darling love happy then.” Aemond wastes no time in reaching forward to grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. He relishes in the giggles you make for a moment before colliding his lips with your own.
It’s an awkward moment at first, since the two of you have never done this before, but eventually Aemond finds a pace that suits him and you. He finds himself letting out a deep groan from his throat when he tastes your sweet lips for the first time, the taste of strawberries and cherries overcoming his senses. That groan is released once more when he feels your hand make a place for itself in his hair and holding him firmly, Aemonds own hands staying in a near iron grip on your waist.
It is a great shame when he is forced to pull away from you, though he does get the great view of your swollen lips, red cheeks and panting form. “I believe I should talk to your father so I can get his permission to marry you, my sweet girl.” Aemond speaks, a hand removing itself from your waist to go to your face and stroke your warm cheek fondly.
“You truly wish to marry me?” You whisper, making Aemond raise a brow in surprise. “Of course I do. I would not be kissing you and finally confessing my love for you if I didn’t. Besides, the servants will no doubt talk if they are to see us alone here together and I would not wish to besmirch your honour like that.”
“I think that supposed honour left the moment your lips kissed my own…” You smile.
“Mine left the moment you smiled at me when we were children. I’ve never cared for another woman since… Are you truly happy? That I am to hopefully marry you?” Aemond asks, that insecurity creeping back in.
“Of course I am happy, my sweet boy.” You stroke the edge of his scar with your thumb and for the first time Aemond does not immediately jerk away at the contact. For once, he does not feel so ugly. For once he feels wanted and loved. “I would have no one else but you in my arms to love and cherish.”
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froggyfics · 7 months
Text
The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 6
Conflict arises within the Al Ghul household.
18+ only! I do not consent for this content to be viewed by minors. Please take heed of the warnings listed, though they are not entirely comprehensive. Do not continue reading if you are uncomfortable with the content. This story and its contents are 100% fictional, and are not affiliated with DC Comics.
Sincerely appreciate you guys for leaving comments and messages about my writing! Your interactions definitely push me to complete my work. Thank you for your patience.
Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!
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Pairing: LOA!medieval!Damian Wayne x fem!reader
Word Count: 3,780
Warnings: misogyny?, smut, p in v penetration, oral sex
The Wayne Manor, in all its glory, is quite ordinary. 
Yes, it is perhaps the most magnificent building in all of Gotham – but if you look closely enough, there are little quirks that can only be seen in homes that have been lived in. 
Little chips on the doorframe showed its perpetual use. The floorboards creaked due to constant footsteps. The stained windows were discolored to divulge their age.
The manor gave off a completely different aura when compared to the Al Ghul Castle. The castle was built primarily for defense purposes and was not meant to be lived in. Its bloody history was obvious with its moat, drawbridges, and arrow slits.
Maybe that’s why you instantly felt more at ease at the manor. This was a home. It had no nefarious purpose. Even if the castle was purged of its malignant occupants (namely Talia), it could not erase its bloody history. 
With that being said, you could not say that you were completely comfortable at the manor. 
“How can I make you feel more at home?” Alfred inquires.
You’re not entirely sure how to answer his question. Maybe he could send word for your family to come to the manor instead of staying at the castle. 
You push the idea to the back of your mind almost immediately after thinking it. Your family hasn’t really been acting like your kin since you’ve arrived in the capital. They’re simply too busy schmoozing to notice your plight. After all, you are their ticket to the upper echelon. Damian had you leave the castle so hurriedly that you did not even have the chance to seek them out to say farewell. You doubt they’d care about your absence anyways.
“Where’s Damian?” 
“He’s still speaking with his father. I can have him come to your room as soon as he finishes his discussion.”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.”
Alfred bows before exiting the room. “Your highness.”
You let out a melancholic sigh while plopping on your bed. The absolute silence that surrounds you deafens your ears. The peacefulness reminds you that this is the first time in a long time that you had to yourself. 
Your ladies-in-waiting are out familiarizing themselves with the manor. Rachel returned to her own home, promising to follow you to manor after she packed her own belongings. Alice, your personal servant, is acquainting herself with the servants’ quarters. 
Talia is not breathing down your neck. Your mother is no longer nit-picking at your appearance. Your father is not here to remind you of your dimwittedness. Your older brother is not hounding you to convince your in-laws to give him a council seat. 
It's just you. After so much time surrounded by others, wishing for some alone time, you’re suddenly dumbfounded. How were you able to entertain yourself before him – before Damian?
The embroidery hoop sits longingly in your open chest. Your needlework was in sore need of improvement you realized after moving to Gotham. After all, the noblewoman here had no household chores to take up their time, thereby leaving them experts at embroidery. 
You sit down on a sturdy wooden chair. It’s easy for you to distract yourself in the work that you’re doing. All that there is to distract you are the crackling of the candles and the occasional prick of the needle. 
You nearly fall out of the chair in terror when the door opens suddenly. Your ladies-in-waiting come barging in, talking amongst themselves merrily until they notice you. Their faces sour. 
“C’mere, your highness,” Matilda sneers. “Time for bed.”
A sigh escapes your lips before you can control it. Surely, you cannot be treated this way! After all, you’re a princess now!
Alas, you scurry to Matilda and turn your back towards her. Of course, you can wish for a spine all you’d like, but you’d never stand up to her. Or to Honora. Or Joan. Or Talia. You’re…you. A princess, but you were born among the lowest of aristocrats. Just a generation prior, your family were peasants! Matilda, Joan, and Honora all came from distinguished dynasties that far surpassed your own. 
“Ouch!” You tried with all your might to keep quiet while Matilda yanks you about, but when her nails scratch against your back, you can’t help but let out a screech.
“Oh, hush now!”
“You’re – hurting me.”
Matilda remains quiet and you step out of your dress after it pools at your feet. The fireplace keeps the room warm, but the hostility in the air increases the temperature. She tugs the nightgown over your head rudely. 
“I suppose I’ll stay the night with the princess.” Honora points to the feather mattress near the bed. 
Matilda and Joan nod their heads and curtsy towards you.
“Now, is there anything else you’d like for us to do before we retire for the night, your highness?” Joan’s voice is sickly sweet, but at this point, you know her words are laced with venom.
“No, thank you. You are dismissed. Have a nice night.”
They snicker in each other’s ears and walk towards the door, while Honora looks longingly at them. Joan opens the bedroom door and gasps at the sight. 
“Your highness!”
Damian leisurely strides into the room with his hands behind his back like a soldier. The occupants of the room immediately bow in respect, including you. 
So much time had passed from when you told Alfred to call for Damian, that you didn’t think he’d actually come to see you. But here he was! In your room. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say to him. You didn’t remember why you asked Alfred to send Damian to you in the first place.
He clears his throat and looks around the room. His gaze lands on your discarded embroidery hoop atop your dresser. He picks it up to examine the half-finished red carnation on the fabric. Your entire body heats up in embarrassment. In your lonely haze, you barely recalled poking the red and green thread through the linen fabric. It meant nothing. Damian catches your gaze, and you hope to communicate silently that it meant nothing to you. Boredom took over and flowers were a common item to embroider. It meant nothing. You weren’t thinking about him then, and you certainly didn’t care that he was standing in front of you now. 
“You lot are dismissed for now.”
The ladies scamper out of the room immediately as Damian’s command leaves his lips. No back talk. No snide comment. If only they respected you half as much as they respected him, your day-to-day life would become so much smoother.
“Alfred mentioned that you called upon me.”
Your eye twitches. “Only to say goodnight.” You stare at him until it becomes uncomfortable. “So, goodnight.”
You turn around to get under the warmth of your covers. You pull the coverlet and bedsheet out as calmly as you can, even though a combination of anger and embarrassment courses through you. 
You want to lie back down fully, but Damian remains standing in place. 
“Can you please call my lady-in-waiting in here?”
“No.”
“No?” you scoff. “Why not?”
“We’re having a conversation, that’s why.”
“No, we’re not,” you huff. “I have had quite a tumultuous day. If you’ll excuse me, I will retire for the night.”
“You are angry with me.”
You scowl, but say nothing in return. You are angry. In fact, you are irate. Your marriage has just begun, and you already want to escape. 
“I’ve spoken with my father,” Damian interrupts the silence. “We will be staying here, at Wayne Manor. The castle is not the place for us.”
He exhales loudly when you do not respond. You are looking down at your coverlet, but can sense his movements closing in on you. He tediously sits on the farthest possible corner of the bed.
You shake your head in disbelief and face him with a glare on your face. “I do not bite, your highness, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
His smile momentarily catches you off-guard, but his chuckles reignite your anger. “You look like you will,” he responds once he notices your fury. His attempt at easing the tension does not work.
“I truly apologize for what my mother said to you. It was not…appropriate to say the least. Here at the manor, I can assure you that no one will question our marital bed like she did.”
“Tell that to my ladies-in-waiting. You do know that they are your mother’s spies, right? They’ll report everything to her.”
He shrugs. “I have been known to keep a loyal household.” He winks at you. “I have my ways.”
You simply can’t stand it. He’s being so…friendly. It irks you.
“Thank you, your highness. T’is late. I will not keep you up.” 
Your attempt to dismiss Damian is ignored. He tuts and closes the distance between you two. His new position is right at your side. His thigh touches your own, with just sheets of fabric separating the two of you.
“You’re angry with me,” he repeats.
“What’s it to you?” You do your best to keep your voice steady. “It’s not like you care.”
“Of course, I do. Of course, I care.”
A humorless laugh escapes your throat. “I’m not stupid. I have not grown up with your fancy tutors or privileged background, but I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were stu –”
“You don’t have to say it for me to know that you and everyone else think it!” you nearly shout. “Your highness –”
“We’ve been over this.” He rubs his forehead. “You are my wife. Refer to me as husband or Damian –”
“I am not your wife!” It’s unintentional, but some of your spit lands on his face. You fight to get the covers off of you, jumping out of bed. You can only stomp a few steps away from Damian before his arm grabs your bicep.
You’re pulled back towards him and he swivels you around to face him once again.
“I am not your wife!” you repeat.
“What are you going on about, woman?” His own anger is evident due to the bulging vein on his neck. “Have you hit your head and lost your memory already?”
You speak through gritted teeth. “Your highness, I am not sure why you have roped me into your lies, but clearly there is another motive behind our so-called marriage.” You rip yourself from his hands, and point at him menacingly. “I don’t think I care to know why you have lied to me, but just know I’m onto you. You cannot deceive me. I know that we are in a sham marriage.”
Damian’s eyes nearly transform to coal black, the green is no longer visible. You slowly drop your accusatory finger, mentally kicking yourself for your tantrum. His disposition is quite fearsome, you realize. You were admittedly terrified of Prince Damian, who comes from a long line of terrifying and tyrannical ancestors. 
“Careful there, woman,” he taunts. “You are speaking to your prince.”
“I thought you were just my husband,” you sneer before you realize what you said. You clamp your mouth shut.
His eyes narrow dangerously. “Same difference. Do you need reminding?”
Well, now you’ve done it. You were going to be beheaded come sunrise, weren’t you? Why couldn’t you have just shut up? Why did you have to believe the lies he said in the garden? Who cares, he’s a man – they all lie. What difference does it make that your man joins in the age-old tradition of lying?
Damian waits expectantly for some sort of response from you, while your mind races. 
“No…husband.”
Damian smiles, but you can tell it’s the coldblooded kind. He takes one step, then another, and then one more until he’s toe-to-toe with you. 
You look up meekly at your prince. He towers over you and it dawns on you just how precarious your situation is. It has been just a day since you’ve married. The marriage could easily be annulled, especially at Damian’s behest. You are replaceable. There are countless others you would kill to be the heir’s wife.
And who could replace Damian? Quite literally, no one. Your family would forever be disgraced. No one would want to interact with the family of the heir’s former wife. It would be an embarrassment. Not to mention, you would forever be the laughingstock of the kingdom. The day-old princess. 
He cups your face, and his thumbs brush your hot cheeks. His other fingers grip the back of your neck, nearly painfully so. “Well, I think you do.”
Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he plants his lips on your forehead. They travel to your nose before one hand shifts the collar of your nightgown.
“Admittedly, t’is my fault.” He suckles the tender skin at the base of your neck. “I have not truly turned you into a wife yet.” The implications of his words make you shiver, along with the wet kisses he leaves up and down your neck. His actions leave you in shock. This was not the way you expected to be…punished? Reprimanded? You’re not sure what exactly Damian is planning.
He kisses the pulsing point in your neck and the sensitivity nearly makes your moan. You bite your lip in retaliation, but of course, he notices it. 
You want to retort, but his thumb rubs against your nipple. You breathe out heavily as he continues his ministrations, your fiery attitude withers away as your nipple hardens under his touch. 
His hands slowly make their way to your hips and he grabs them firmly to guide you in the direction of the bed. 
You yelp when he pushes you onto the bed roughly, nearly landing completely on your back, but you catch yourself by your arms. You watch in utter curiosity as Damian rolls your nightgown over your knees, exposing you the warm chill of the room. He bites his lip lewdly and sinks to his knees.
You yelp again when he pulls you closer to the edge by the ankles. 
“You can watch if you want.” He gives you wet kisses from your ankle till your inner thigh. When he reaches your thigh, you attempt to close your legs around his head. It’s simply too sensitive. 
He pushes your knees apart and begins the cycle again on the other leg. This time, when he reaches your inner thigh, he takes hold of your legs and spreads them as far apart as he can. 
You squirm and squirm as he continues kissing your inner thighs.
“Damian,” you whimper.
“The lioness suddenly cannot seem to roar, only mewl,” he teases.
You can feel his hot breath on your innermost parts. The intimacy of the situation makes you grip the bed, but once he latches onto you, your hands cramp in the air.
“Oh! Ooh! Oh.” You moan loudly while he deliciously eats you out. His tongue sloppily latches onto your sensitive nub, but he occasionally leaves you long, languid licks on the entire region.
His hand snakes up your body, shirking your nightgown up until it’s over your shirt. He tweaks your nipples, and you can feel your abdomen tightening in response. 
You can feel the cooling wetness when Damian finally releases his hold on your clitoris. You want to mourn the absence of his tongue, but the mourning period ends as quickly as it began when he starts to rub his thumb in firm, circular motions.
There are so many sensations happening simultaneously. His thumb on your clit. His rough shirt agitating your nipples. Wet kisses on your neck. His fingers occasionally swiping the wetness leaking from your hole and spreading it around. You couldn’t stop the tide even if you wanted to.
The only thing to hold onto is his biceps. It starts in small waves. A strange feeling arises in you, but you don’t want it to stop. It roils in faster and faster peaks. You bite your lip in anticipation. When it finally arrives, a sound escapes your throat that has never come out before. Your muscles contract as you reach your peak. 
Damian’s lips leave your neck to latch onto your mouth. You moan into his mouth as the feeling rides itself out. It’s so overwhelming that all modesty flies out the window. You don’t care how loud you are. You don’t care how you must look. All that surrounds you is the pleasure that Damian extracted from you. 
The kiss you share is unlike the one from the day before at your wedding. Your wedding kiss was short and sour. This one is long and sensual. 
You don’t want the kiss to end, but Damian takes the initiative to pull back. He maintains eye contact with you while he removes his tunic and pants. You obscenely take in the sight of his defined abs and strong muscles, but you stop once your eyes meet his hardened member.
You jump slightly when he suddenly spits on it. His hand moves up and down to spread his saliva around. The sight is so lewd that you turn your head to avoid it.
“Don’t get all shy on me now, beloved.”
His words force you to look once more at him. His pushes your shoulders down to where you lay flat on the bed. You crane your neck to at least look at what he’s doing. He holds your neck up with his hand to give you a better view once he realizes what you’re trying to do. 
He pokes at your entrance. “Beloved, breathe for me.”
You have no choice but to follow the instructions of the man that just had his face in between your thighs moments ago. You inhale, then exhale, and repeat the process.
The pain halts your breath. You hiss as the head of his penis is thrust into you. He shallowly inserts the tip in and out, and leans down to pepper your face with light kisses. Slowly but surely, your hiss turns into a whimper. In response, he thrusts deeper and deeper. He whispers tenderly into your ear.
“You feel amazing, my love.”
“This is what I should have done last night.”
“I am all yours.”
You don’t even realize you’ve shed a tear until he swipes it away. The gentleness of the moment wipes away the last month from your memory. All that exists is here and now.
It hurts, but there’s an equal amount of pleasure licking behind the pain. Damian’s ever-increasing groans only add to your own desire. He impales you with every thrust, but he does so as slowly as possible. You can tell he could be rougher if he wanted, as evident by his muscular figure. 
He leans his forehead onto your own, and closes his eyes. You keep yours open to watch him pant. There’s a glow on his skin that highlights every handsome feature about him. 
His breathing becomes erratic and so do his thrusts. His grunts are nearly animalistic until finally he groans loudly in delight. You can feel a gush of wetness around your entrance as he lazily thrusts himself in and out of you. He stills himself inside of you at last before practically crushing you under his weight.
You can hardly breathe under the pressure and feebly push upwards against his chest with your hands that are trapped under him. He pulls out of you completely and rolls over to your side, still panting heavily. 
He shifts you onto your side to face him and pecks your entire face with light kisses. You giggle at his show of affection, wishing that he would never stop. 
But he does. Everything good must come to an end. With one final peck on your lips, he rubs his hands up and down your back before getting up from the bed. The warmth of his body escapes you and you find yourself quite cold suddenly. The fireplace still burns brightly, but Damian’s touch provided a fiery heat that could not be replicated through any other means. 
Once he’s finally dressed, he leans down to give you a passionate kiss. You return the affection to the best of your naïve ability. 
“Our marriage is now officially sealed. Do you feel like our union is a sham still?”
You squirm in embarrassment. You recall the argument that preceded your intimate counter, but shame overcomes you at the way you behaved. 
You nod your head in response. “I apologize, Damian. This past month has just been a whirlwind for me.”
He gazes at you while tying his pants tight. “I understand.” He reaches down and kisses your knuckles, like he did when you first arrived in Gotham. “Goodnight, beloved.”
He strides towards the exit. “Damian, will we spend any time together tomorrow? I’d love a tour of the manor with you as my guide.”
“I don’t think that is possible. I’ll be very busy.” He attempts to walk away, but is stopped by your questioning again.  
“Can we at least have dinner together?” He doesn’t turn to face you entirely, but he does tilt his head in your direction. 
“Would that make you happy?” he finally says.
“Yes,” you immediately answer. You wanted what just happened to continue to happen. Not necessarily the sex, although that was a definitive plus, but the closeness. 
You felt so much closer to Damian within just a night of emotional intimacy that your negative memories of him from the past month shift towards the back of your head. Every kiss he gave you tonight replaced every snide comment made in your direction, the loneliness you felt, and the confusion regarding your relationship status.
“Then, we shall have dinner.” With that, he leaves the room, leaving you bare on the bed. 
His absence makes the pain and soreness in your abdomen and genitals evident. You clutch your belly in an attempt to soothe the cramps away.
Your door bursts open. You scramble to cover yourself with something, with anything, but it’s too late.
Honora glares at you as she makes her way towards the bed. The best you can do in your fumbled state is cover yourself with your arms and make yourself as small as possible. 
She looks you over, and then at the red and transparent stains on the coverlet. 
“Get off the bed,” she snaps. She exits the room and returns a few moments later with two servant girls.
“Hurry up,” she barks at the servants as they scurry to change to the sheets. “I’d like to get some sleep before the sun rises.”
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b0r3dtod3ath · 1 year
Text
Sweetheart
masterlist
description: Y/N and Wilbur being high school sweethearts 
an: a lil headcanon list that i came up with; i imagine y/n and wilbur being in high school and they both aren’t popular but they aren't underdogs either,
warnings: mention of alcohol and anxiety; y/n not being a fan of public display of affection
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-Wilbur wasn’t very lucky with girls. He had some crushes buy oh boy when his eyes laid on you.. He was walking with his head in the clouds. He regretted that he hasn’t noticed your beauty earlier. To him you were like an angel. Teachers would get mad at him for not paying attention to class while he was admiring you. 
-It was hard not to notice. Will’s best friend quickly connected the dots and started talking to you and inviting you to hang out with them. At first it was quite awkward but with time Wilbur became more and more comfortable around you. He still couldn’t hide his crush. 
-With time you had also developed some feelings towards him. You saw in him what most girls couldn’t - not only his height but also his sense of humour, ability to lift up everybody's mood and this special spark. You always felt safe with him. He would always offer to keep you company while coming back to your house in the evenings. 
-After some convincing Wilbur decided to confess his feelings to you. It was a usual walk from your mutual friend’s house to your home. As soon as you left your friend he started getting nervous “So, I wanted to tell you something.” he lost all his words. You stared at him as he avoided your eyes. The two of you heard a distant yelling of your friend “Are you going to tell her you love her or not?!!” and the rest was history.
-Wilbur was a very sweet person. He would do anything to make you happy - show up with flowers on a random day, bring you coffee to school or even visit you when you were sick just to keep you company,
-You would always wander around a city after school. This would usually end up in cute unplanned dates near the seaside,
-I’m so convinced you would try alcohol for the first time together and end up tipsy in a meadow,
-Also figuring out how to make out- lots of laughs, constantly asking each other is it okay, really listening and paying attention to each other. Anytime a moan escapes your lips Wilbur smiles and makes a little note in his head. (nothing happens beyond this - just to be clear).
-A lot of little dates: going to the theatre, picnics in the parks, lots of walks, 
-It always felt weird for you to be all over your boyfriend at school so you usually behaved like you were just friends. You weren’t hiding your relationship but it felt uncomfortable for you. It quickly began to bother Wilbur. “Did I do something? You act differently when we are at school. The moment we exit the building you are back to normal acting like nothing has happened. I feel as if you don’t want people to know we are a couple.” he randomly stated while you two were sitting at the beach enjoying the afternoon sun. “I just don’t like rubbing into everyone’s faces that we are in a relationship. That’s all.” you looked into his eyes as you spoke. You could clearly see worry in them. “Is it about me?” he quietly asked. “Oh, no, no, honey of course no. It’s just I don’t like being so transparent in school. I love you more than anything, Wilby. I would never be embarrassed or anything because of you.” You grabbed his cheeks in your hands as you spoke. A single tear escaped his eye but you quickly wiped it. To show him you meant what you said you kissed him and pulled into a hug. 
-This boy is so anxious sometimes. A lot of the times he needs your reassurance. Whenever he would feel down his mom would call you and ask if you wanted to stay at theirs overnight. You had those little self care nights for him. You would help him refresh and organise the room a bit. Later you would put on a movie or start a game. You would spend hours praising him, giving him soft massages and kisses, playing with his hair. You wanted to make sure he feels as safe with you as you with him.
-Overall a very pure first love :)
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