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#it’s giving i’m not like other girls actually
wineauntie · 1 day
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WEAR THE HAT (RIDE THE COWBOY) — quinn hughes x fem!reader
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summary:in which, Quinn Hughes thinks you should save a horse! (…and ride a cowboy)
note: oh this is a longggg one! Also confident + cowboy quinn is superior >
warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, sexual content, p in v, nicknames like pretty girl, baby and sweetheart, use of y/n, pining galore, enemies to lovers realness, Quinn with a dirty mouth that loves to praise you.
word count: 4.3k
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You very much, very disliked Quinn Hughes. You always had and you could pinpoint the exact moment where it all began.
You had moved next door to the Hughes family when you were eleven. You’d cried the entire journey, sad to leave your old friends and old house. This misery stayed with you, even as you spotted three kids playing in the street, and even when you’d spotted your new home.
You’d hurriedly dried your eyes as your Mom had parked the car, desperately trying to hide your sadness. You’d plastered a smile across your face, but as soon as you’d stepped out of the car, you found yourself tumbling backwards onto the gravel, due to a plastic puck to the forehead, shot at you by none other than Quinn Hughes himself.
You’d carried a bump, a bruise and a pure dislike for the boy at that very moment.
His brothers on the other hand were great. Jack, who was only a year your junior, was one of your closest childhood friends, the two of you as thick as thieves when it came to neighbourhood shenanigans. And Luke as a child was obsessed with you. In his mind, you were his sister and he wanted to do everything by your side.
…but Quinn?
He never apologised for the rogue puck, nor had he made any attempt to be nice towards you or make conversation. In fact, every time you were in the same vicinity as him, he acted like your presence was the biggest inconvenience, ignoring you at every turn and fleeing whenever you showed up.
And so the silent feud persevered and the thorough dislike felt was an emotion well-shared.
You rid your head of all those thoughts as you climbed out of your car which you had parked just down the street from the Hughes’ lake house. It was Halloween at the Hughes’, despite it being the middle of July.
Halloween was always a big holiday in the Hughes’ household, so when the brothers couldn’t celebrate it together in October due to their demanding careers, Jack had come up with the clever idea to hold a costume party once a year in the midst of summer to give everyone a chance to let loose and have a bit of fun.
So here you were, in the middle of July, dressed in denim daisy dukes, a brown tank top and brown, leather cowboy boots. You’d thrown together your costume in a matter of minutes, hell-bent on borrowing the brown cowboy hat you regularly saw hanging on the coatrack in the Hughes home.
Your boots clattered against the pavement as you approached the lake house, the sound of music and people talking, singing and dancing seeped out into the night air of Michigan. You pushed open the door, being instantly greeted by a wave of heat and a faint smell of alcohol wafting through the air.
“y/n!”
You whipped your head towards the crowded living room where Luke had clambered over the couch, to reach you. You stumbled backwards as he threw his arms around you, your chuckles radiating as he rocked you side to side in joy.
“I thought you weren’t going to come,” he whined as he pulled away, finally letting you look at the costume he adorned.
“And pass up free drinks?…never,” you hummed, fixing his black robe. “Also, I’m loving the costume, Anakin.” Luke grinned and scratched his head as he glanced down at his costume bashfully.
“I love your…oh my god,” Luke trailed off as he read your tank top, his eyes widening and cheeks blazing as he slapped a hand over his mouth.
You beamed from ear to ear as you glanced down at your shirt which conveniently read “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”
“I’m a cowgirl, Luke,” You laughed, “actually, where’s that cowboy hat I always see when I’m around here? And can I borrow it please?”
Luke’s look of shock and amusement remained laced across his features as he glanced around the party.
“What?” You asked in confusion, following his eyeline only to freeze where you stood. “No…god, no, Luke!”
“I think the hat’s already in use,” Luke spoke, lowering his lips to your ear so you could hear him as he shuffled to your side. “Bye!”
Luke laughed heartedly, patting you on the shoulder before he returned to his friends in the living room, leaving your eyes locked on the sight ahead of you as a scowl crept onto your face.
Standing right ahead of you, sipping a drink as he talked to friends was Quinn Hughes…dressed from head to toe as a cowboy.
Fuck. Your. Life.
This was great, this was just fantastic. You wanted to rip your hair out in frustration, especially when you saw how good he looked in it.
One thing you refused to ever mention, was that despite your deep-rooted dislike for him, the eldest Hughes brother had been one of your first crushes because let’s be honest, objectively, Quinn Hughes was a good-looking man. You’d have to be a fool not to notice it. Your childhood crush on him had faded, yet every once and a while, it poked its ugly head out and caused you to go into full lockdown mode.
And now, seeing him in denim jeans, a grey shirt that stretched around his thick biceps and the cowboy hat you’d intended to steal, the ugly head of your childhood crush flared up, screaming at you to act on your desires.
With a huff, you folded your arms over your chest and headed towards the kitchen to grab a drink to wash Quinn out of your mind.
Hours later and a few drinks in, you found yourself sitting on the couch, with your legs strewn across the cushions, a plastic cup in hand, and a mind buzzing with alcohol-induced courage. The party had escalated into chaos as the night wore on, with laughter, music, and questionable dance moves scattered around the home.
Despite your initial annoyance at Quinn's unexpected presence, you had managed to avoid any direct interaction with him throughout the evening, skilfully avoiding him. However, as the night continued, you couldn't help but find yourself stealing glances across the room at the eldest Hughes brother. He seemed relaxed, chatting effortlessly with his friends, his cowboy attire adding a rugged charm to his usual demeanour.
Lord, you needed to get a grip.
But each time your gaze lingered on him, a vicious and conflicting mix of irritation and attraction stirred within you.
On your latest trip to the kitchen, you had glanced backwards and the party’s noise dulled as Quinn's eyes met yours. Even from across the room, you could see his nostrils flare and his eyes flash with an emotion you couldn’t place. For a brief moment, the world completely stilled as the intensity of his gaze pierced through the crowd. You quickly averted your eyes, heart pounding in your chest, but the memory of his piercing stare lingered, igniting a flame within you.
You’d abandoned your mission of heading the the kitchen and had swiftly taken back up your residence on the house’s couch, lounging back into the cushions, feeling rather flustered from the minimal interaction.
"Hey, y/n!" Jack's voice boomed over the music, snapping you out of your thoughts. He plopped down on the couch beside you, a wide grin plastered on his face. "Having fun?"
"Yeah, it's been a blast," You nodded, offering him a lopsided smile as your head lolled toward him. He had chosen to be a football player for the evening, adorning a jersey and eye black smeared on his cheekbones.
Jack chuckled, nudging your shoulder playfully. "Glad you could make it,” he spoke up, raising his voice to be heard. “You know, Quinn's been asking about you."
"Really? Why?" You asked defensively, as your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mixture of scepticism and intrigue swirling in your head.
"Who knows?” Jack shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe he wants to bury the hatchet or something."
"I highly doubt that."
But deep down, a small glimmer of hope flickered within you. Could it be possible Jack was telling the truth? The thought sent a strum of anticipation coursing through your veins and straight to your beating heart.
Before you could dwell further on the matter, Jack grabbed your hand, excitement evident in his eyes. "Come on, let's get a drink!" He urged, pulling you onto your feet as you allowed Jack to yank you towards the kitchen and straight past his older brother, whose eyes seemed to be locked on your figure.
You didn’t know how long it had been since the kitchen, but right now you were holed up in one of the bathrooms upstairs, staring at yourself in the mirror. You were at that wonderful stage of tipsy where the world was good and bright.
A sudden and loud bang on the door rattled its structure as you groaned and banged back.
“Occupied,” you practically sang, your eyes flitting from the mirror to the door.
“You can’t be up here, it’s off limits,” the deep voice called back sending butterflies cascading through your stomach. With a giggle, you opened the door and shook your head.
“Move on, Hughes,” You tutted, “you should never hurry a woman in a bathroom.”
Quinn’s eyes widened a fraction from where he was leaning against the door frame, expecting there to be someone hooking up or throwing up inside of the bathroom.
“This is still out of bounds,” he eventually sighed, his arms folding across his chest.
“Even for me,” you fluttered your eyelashes jokingly, biting your lip as you stared at Quinn’s unmoving figure.
“Especially for you.”
It was as if those words sent all of your insecurities tumbling down, each one of them being thrown in your face as your upbeat persona completely dropped. You suddenly felt rather sober, all of the adrenaline and fun seeping from your body.
“Fine,” you hissed, bumping his shoulder as you passed. You were going to head down to the party but you felt your body turn back to face him before you could. “Actually, no!”
“You have a real stick up your ass you know that, right? I tried to be civil with you but all I get back is whatever this…” you gestured to his disgruntled state. “–is. I’m done trying. It’s obvious you don’t like me, so quit staring and quit asking about me. We don’t have to be friends or even be civil anymore, we can just stop.”
You turned around towards the stairs with gritted teeth, before you spun around on your heel once more.
“Oh and for the record, you stole my intended hat,” you pettily huffed, slowly reaching up and taking the hat from Quinn’s head before pulling it onto your own. “I’m taking it back for the rest of the night.”
A sigh fell from Quinn’s lips as you fixed the hat on your head with a smirk, nodding to nothing as you looked up at the man once more.
“Now, I’m done,” you eventually hummed in satisfaction, walking back towards the stairs.
Before you could get any further, you felt Quinn's arm snake around your waist, pulling you back towards him, his chest meeting your spine. Opening your mouth the argue once more, you found yourself faltering, feeling his nose brush along the supple skin of your neck, the scruff of his beard leaving a wonderful tingling in its wake.
"Haven't heard you heard, pretty girl?" His voice rasped, his lips skimming the shell of your ear as your heart quickened. "You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy."
Your breath caught in your throat at his closeness, his cologne engulfing you as your heart fluttered in your chest.
“Quinn…” you struggled to say, your body pliant as he slowly turned you so you were chest to chest with him.
“Had to watch you all night walking around in those little shorts without a care in the world that everyone was watching you,” He continued, his hand reaching up to brush hair out of your face. “But you were watching me, hm? You always do, even when we were younger.”
Your mouth was slightly agape as you remained quiet, your eyes following Quinn’s that dropped to your lips briefly.
“Think I haven’t noticed it?” He spoke, his nose brushing gently against yours. “Oh, sweetheart, why don’t you ask me how I noticed.”
You couldn’t find the words to speak as you tried to process what was happening and why you liked being held like this by him.
“C’mon, don’t go all quiet on me now… go and ask.”
“How..?” your chest rose and fell unsteadily, warmth rushing around your body at you and Quinn’s close proximity. “How did you notice?”
You watched as his head lifted slightly, a soft chuckle breaking from his lips.
“Because I was watching you,” He stated, his voice an octave above a whisper as he locked his deep and softening eyes on yours. “I always watched you, starting from the moment I hit you with that damned puck.”
“You never apologised for that,” your stubborn remark mixed with the need that your voice trembled with.
“How was awkward, twelve-year-old me ever going to walk up to a pretty girl and try to explain himself?”
“You thought I was pretty?”
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl, I’ve ever seen.”
You ducked your head before Quinn tutted and lifted your head with a warming smile.
“You got me nervous,” he admitted, his voice soft in a way you’ve never heard before. “So when I hit you, I grabbed the puck and pretended it didn’t happen. It was only after that, did I realise what I had just done.”
Quinn sucked in a small breath as he continued, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone in soothing strokes.
“I tried to apologise to you so many times but you hated me too, you know? I’d already pissed you off, I didn’t want you to thoroughly hate me.”
His confession sliced at your heart but your body radiated in a desirous heat that ensnared all of your senses, as you leaned closer to his body, relishing the firmness of his chest and the way it rumbled when you’d stepped closer.
“I don’t think I could ever hate you, Quinn,” you whispered, your hands reaching up to hold onto his biceps.
“Can I kiss you?” Quinn’s hoarse voice murmured, causing your thighs to clench in anticipation. “Please?”
A primal desperation swept over you as you nodded and pulled Quinn down onto your lips. Your lips met in a clash, electricity humming around you as he swept his tongue along your lip.
For a first kiss with him, this was better than you had ever imagined.
The two of you remained locked, Quinn’s hold from where he cupped your cheeks, grounding you to the earth as you grasped at his arms to steady the sudden lightness that filled your body.
When the two of you withdrew to catch your breath, his forehead dropped to rest against yours as the two of you breathed one another in. The party downstairs was a distant memory as you surrounded yourself in Quinn and the moment that lingered in the air.
Another moment passed before the two of you jumped straight back into the kiss, the addictive excitement driving the two of you. Kissing Quinn was like driving fast with the windows down in summer; hot, freeing and thrilling.
Your hands tangled at the back of his neck as he held you tighter to his skin, one of his hands dropping to your lower back to press you against him.
A loud clatter from the stairs caused the both of you to pull apart, watching as two of Jack’s drunken friends almost face-planted. Quinn reached back out to you and dipped his head to whisper in your ear.
“Jump.”
Without another thought or complaint, you jumped into his awaiting arms, your legs locking around his waist as he carried you to his room, down the hall and out of sight from prying eyes. Quinn’s lips found yours in a feverish dance as he pushed his back against his door, to open it before he brought you inside and kicked it closed.
“Quinn,” you found yourself panting, your heart beating a mile a minute as the heat of your flesh became unbearable, the desire to have his hands all over you overwhelming your senses. “I want you.”
“You have me,” Quinn smirked, his head lowering to press kisses along the curve of your neck as he slowly sat on his bed.
Still entangled around him, your legs straddled his thighs as he pulled you close. His hands moved to your waist, holding you as he continued his tirade of kisses down your neck, pausing only to suckle on the sweet flesh casting a darkening bruise on your skin.
Soft moans of pleasure tumbled from your parted lips as your hips moved forward and back on his lap, desperate for any friction or satisfaction.
“Look at you squirming, you need it bad, hm?” Quinn teasingly murmured against your skin whilst you whined at his words, your hips rocking. “What do you say, pretty girl, want to ride a cowboy?”
His words caused a pure and animalistic craving to wrack through.
“Please,” you gasped out as he nipped your neck, brushing his tongue over the mark.
“I’ve got you,” Quinn whispered, tossing the hat from your head, his hands whipping your tank top over your head to leave you in only your bra. You felt a breath escape you at the sudden movement, your head dropping forward to look at him.
“Beautiful,” he commented with half-lidded eyes, lingering on your exposed flesh as one of his hands lifted to undo the back of the bra. The bra fell swiftly with your help, your arms tossing it somewhere into the darkness of Quinn’s room.
Quinn’s eyes darkened at the sight of your bare chest, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he admired you. You whimpered as he grasped your breast in his hand, kneading the supple flesh, eliciting a sharp moan from your lips.
“Never seen anything more perfect in my life,” he spoke, bowing his head to swirl his tongue over your nipple, his other hand pinching and kneading the other in a perfect contrast of pleasurable tension. Your hips ground down onto the growing bulge in his pants, relishing the raw material of his jeans against your shorts. He kissed across the valley of your breasts, capturing your other nipple in his mouth, showing it the same amount of attention as the other.
You were a stuttering mess, when he eventually withdrew, his eyes dark and careful as he slowly lifted you from his thighs and placed you on your shaky legs.
“Last chance, pretty girl,” Quinn breathed out, his fingers dancing along the waist of your shorts. “You sure you want this?”
Without breaking eye contact, you unbuttoned your shorts and let them fall to your ankles, stepping out of their constraints before you climbed back onto Quinn’s lap.
“I was promised a ride,” you simpered, your eyes ablaze as you bit down your lip. Your hands ran over his clothed chest, pulling the hem up, revealing Quinn’s sculpted body. He slowly sat up, allowing you to completely yank the grey shirt over his head.
In a sudden move, he gripped your hips and spun you, changing your positions so that you were pinned beneath Quinn, your chest palpitating as your eyes flared with a venereal need.
He stepped away from your body, slowly unbuttoning his jeans, as you moved to prop yourself onto your elbows.
With bated breath, you watched Quinn as he shed his clothes, your heart racing with anticipation. The air in the room felt charged with desire, every movement he made sending a jolt of electric excitement through your veins. As he discarded his jeans, revealing his toned physique, your eyes drank in the sight hungrily, a certain lust igniting within you.
Quinn's gaze never left yours, dark with intensity as he prowled towards you, his steps deliberate and purposeful. Your breath hitched as he knelt before you, his hands trailing up your thighs, sending shivers of anticipation cascading down your spine.
"So pretty," he murmured, his voice husky as his lips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake whilst his hands pulled down your panties. His touch was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure dancing across your skin. “Oh, baby, you are soaked, all this for me?”
You gulped as he let a grin crawl across his face, reaching behind him to place the panties in his drawer before he returned to you.
With trembling hands, you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing the contours of his body, memorising every ridge and plane. The heat between you was palpable, a primal need driving you both towards each other with an irresistible force. You gently pulled him towards your face, unable to bear the tension any longer.
As Quinn's lips found yours in a searing kiss, you melted into him, surrendering to the fiery passion that consumed you both. You dragged him down on top of you, his body a heavy yet comfortable weight pressing against your bare body.
“Need to feel you,” you rasped, heat flushing across your body. “I want to feel you.” You rolled over, to be on top of him, your legs automatically pulled apart by his thick thighs. “Do you have?…have you?..condom, where?”
You found yourself babbling, finding it hard to focus on the words as your body cried in desperation. You watched as Quinn opened his fist revealing a silver, foil packet, which he’d grabbed from the drawer.
“Put it on for me?” Quinn asked cheekily, winking at you as you practically tugged the packet out of his hands.
“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, earning a soft poke in the side from the man beneath you as you shifted your weight to manoeuvre Quinn’s underwear down. Your eyes locked on his whilst fingers gently dragged the material down, allowing his thickened cock to slap against his stomach. You suppressed a guttural groan at the sight.
You were practically salivating at the view, your eyes wide with wonder as you carefully reached out and stroked down his shaft, spreading his beads of pre-cum down his length, relishing the grumble that wracked through Quinn’s chest as he watched you with parted lips and a heated look.
Your teeth ripped open the wrapper of the condom, and you slowly rolled it onto Quinn's length, feeling the tension between you bubble over. With each movement, your heart raced faster, your body craving the feeling of him that awaited.
Quinn's breath hitched as your fingers traced over his skin, as you grinned down onto his thighs, hardly able to contain the vicious warmth pulsating through your veins.
With the condom securely in place, you straddled Quinn once again, feeling the heat of his body beneath you as you positioned yourself, ready to take what you both yearned for. His cock brushed over your dripping wetness as his hands found their way to your hips, guiding you gently as you lowered yourself onto him, the shaking sensation of fullness engulfing you both.
A low, guttural moan escaped Quinn's lips as you sank down, inch by inch. Your mouth parted in pleasure, your hands grasping at the flesh of Quinn’s abs for stability. The burning sensation of the stretch to accommodate his length, fuelled your desire as you gave yourself a second to adjust to his size.
“Oh my god,” you gasped out, slowly rocking against Quinn, sparks of pleasure bursting up your spine whilst you threw your head back.
“You take it so well, pretty girl,” Quinn huffed, his tight grip on your hips urging you up and down on his cock. His grip was an anchor, keeping your body grounded despite the ethereal pleasure you were experiencing.
Your walls tightened around the ridges of his length as it glided through your wetness. The room was filled with a cacophony of sounds, your pants of satisfaction mixing with Quinn’s carnal groans.
Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a symphony of passion and desire as you lost yourselves in the rhythm of the moment.
Quinn’s hand crept towards the epicentre of your pleasure, his thumb circling your bud as you ground down on him. You let out a strangled yelp as he thrust up to meet your movements, both of you chasing your orgasms.
Your nails dug into his flesh as you moved up and down with his guidance. Your pelvis meeting the the sparse hair on the base of his cock as he hit the spongey spot inside you that erupted in glorious pulses every time he brushed against it.
“I can feel you clenching me,” Quinn murmured, his thumb quickening against your clit as you approached the edge of ecstasy. “You gonna come for me, pretty girl?”
“Quinn,” you panted out, picking up your speed as you tethered on the dangerous edge of your climax.
“That’s right,” He urged, his thrusts up unwavering as you met them in pure need. “Let everyone know who’s making you come.”
Your thighs shook as the knotted tension in your stomach loosened as Quinn pulled you closer and closer to that glorious bliss.
“Y’look so good,” Quinn practically slurred, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you bounce. “You’re so close, pretty girl, c’mon, let go, I’ve got you.”
His words shot straight down your core as the tension in your stomach exploded, as your body shook in the purest of pleasure, loud moans escaping your parted lips as your orgasm washed over you.
Quinn pumped up into you, letting you ride through the bliss as he grew closer and closer to his own. His grip on your hips held you on him as you relentlessly clenched around his length.
With a final grunt and a chasing thrust, his grip tightened and he spilt into you, eliciting a whine from you at the mere feeling.
Your body felt boneless as Quinn pulled you down onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you to hold you close. Both of your chests rose and fell in sync, both completely blissed out whilst his hand entangled in your hair, holding your head toward the crook of his neck.
You moved your head carefully to press chaste kisses to his jaw, as he lightly chuckled and adjusted his hold on you.
“How was your ride, pretty girl?” Quinn mumbled, his head lolling to the side to meet your eyes.
“Perfect, 7/10,” you whispered with a soft smile, your fingers tracing his cheek.
“Only seven?” Quinn spluttered in shock, but before he could descend into a panic, you continued.
“Mhm…I think we need to go again,” you nodded very seriously, mischief glittering in your eyes. “You need to convince me, cowboy.”
“You’re a cheeky thing, aren’t you,” Quinn hummed, his hand twisting around your hair to gently pull your head back.
“You like it,” you smiled, brushing your lips across his.
“Damn right I do,” Quinn growled, “Now hop back on, baby, seems like I have some convincing to do.”
Hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback is welcomed with open arms
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pupyuj · 2 days
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→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.
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— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...
word count: 10.6k
dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.
content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.
requested? : kind of!
a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe
p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—
previous: magic words.
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jang wonyoung was late. 
to class.
which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to— 
“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”
you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!
ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.
everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!
“come on, baby. give me a show.”
you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?
a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.
oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.
(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.
no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.
but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)
thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.
the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.
still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.
you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.
you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.
“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.
“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”
“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.
you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.
“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.
“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.
“w-what?!”
“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”
“oh, right!”
you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”
jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.
“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.
“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.
“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.
“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.
gosh, this school was a nightmare.
nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.
but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?
you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.
you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.
wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!
it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.
things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.
so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.
the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?
you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.
when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…
“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”
ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!
“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.
“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.
“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”
you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.
“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.
the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.
the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.
it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.
it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.
regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.
“wonyoung…”
the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.
“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.
you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.
“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.
“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.
it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.
“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.
“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.
“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone. 
“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”
“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”
“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.
all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.
“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.
given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”
the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.
“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.
“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.
you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…
“okay.”
wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.
“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.
“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you. 
oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.
getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?
it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.
you’ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.
“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”
soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.
“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.
“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)
you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.
“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.
“no.”
surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.
just like last time.
“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.
“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”
and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.
god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.
“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.
“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”
fuck, that was gonna do you in.
too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.
“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.
the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.
but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!
you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.
“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.
you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.
immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”
wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.
“well, consent is important—”
“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.
leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.
your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take  everything i’m giving to you today.”
scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.
only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.
wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.
“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”
wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”
wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…
you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.
she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.
why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!
“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.
it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.
“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”
wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.
“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.
“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.
wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.
“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”
you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.
it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.
“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.
you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?
(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)
“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.
wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.
she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.
so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.
“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.
wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!
“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.
much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver. 
finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.
you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion. 
you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?
“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does. 
“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”
“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited. 
you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.
“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.
when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.
“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.
“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.
“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.
“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!
although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.
for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.
there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.
you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.
“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.
“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.
“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”
“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!
“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.
“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”
inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.
but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.
“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.
“i knew it!”
once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.
“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.
because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!
“is that…”
wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.
“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes. 
the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.
“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”
wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”
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inblurtub · 2 days
Text
lovingly siesta | a smau | part 1
pairing(s): youngest sister leclerc!reader x lando norris, youngest sister leclerc!reader x f1 grid (platonic).
warnings: no face claim, age gap (25-18), protective charles leclerc, ooc
might be a multi-parts series
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc and 17.359 others
yourusername it’s outfit check week🤭
view all 1.001 comments
user1 y/n literally living our ferrari girlies dream life
user2 superb with that first outfit, its giving girl boss energy sis😋 keep going
user5 GIRL YOU WERE IN QUEENSLAND I WENT TO QUEENSLAND TOO😭😭😭
charles_leclerc ma pricesse maman’s gunna be mad if she sees the last 3 pics
yourusername keep it a secret from her then arthur_leclerc no i’m going to snitch u up, be prepared yourusername 😵‍💫 you childish sappy kid arthur
charles_leclerc but i love that you wear my hat
user4 charlie are you in search of a brother in law i would love to apply
user3 damn sometimes i forget she’s actually 18 now😭 time flies so fast, i feel like i’ve known her since forever
landonorris very pretty sis
yourusername thanks lan ur so sweet! yourusername @charles_leclerc @arthur_leclerc see! that’s how you guys should react to my pics charles_leclerc no lando that is weird why are you even here🤨??
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 20.284 others
yourusername once a ferrari girl, always a ferrari girl. very much proud of my two brothers especially the appendix-less one✨
view all 3.935 comments
charles_leclerc …ok fine i’ll pick you up to party tonight, go get ready (but no drinks)
yourusername done deal 🫶🏻 you know you are my favorite siblings sharl arthur_leclerc what? lorenzotl she said it to everyone yourusername oof
carlossainz55 🗣️ me the smooth operator
yourusername yes you the smooth operator!!!
user7 at this point anyone could see lando staring down (much to my delusion) at y/n
user8 YES SIS i know that couldnt be only me that are delusional 😭
scuderiaferrari will we see you at our next race ms. ferrari😉?
yourusername yes absolutely spare me a seat at my bro’s garage!
you’ve got a text from @lando.not.real
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yourusername has posted on her story
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↳ charles_leclerc you left without me knowing?
yourusername don’t worry:) i got my friend’s accompany me, i am safe sharl charles_leclerc better tell me next time charles_leclerc wait wdym friend? who is ur friend when you go with ME to a ferrari’s party???
↳ lando.no.real can be ur cameraman for good🫢
yourusername is there a price for that? lando.no.real i’m exclusively free for you
548 notes · View notes
emmasbrain · 2 days
Text
Miscommunication (the fun kind)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Warnings: slight alcohol consumption? i think that’s all, nothing NSFW in this one
Synopsis: Your good friend Penelope sees you in a bar and begs you to sit with her and her work friends. You realise you like one. She also realises you like one. She however, thinks you like the wrong one.
The moment Penelope spotted you, she gasped. “Oh my god!” You spun round on your seat on the bar towards her running over to you in unrunnable heels, a brilliant smile gracing her face and a surprised one falling to yours as you saw each other.
“Penelope?” You hopped off your bar stool and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been too long darlin’. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in years.” You gushed, definitely over exaggerating your circumstances.
“Didn’t we go for coffee last Thursday?” She giggles, and you see the familiar glint in her eye that she only got after a couple of margaritas.
“Like I said, years!” You giggled right back, and she held your hands, leaning in towards you more.
“Who are you here with?” She questioned, looking around.
You shrugged casually, “I came with some girls from work, but they all left with guys and I decided to drink my loneliness away… Except I haven’t actually had a drink yet because I’ve been sitting here debating whether I really want to drink alone.” Your words, though holding a little weight, came out with a laugh and a self deprecating sigh.
Penelope gave you a look, and you knew she was brewing something. “What if… you come sit with us?” Before you can ask questions or protest, she continues, “You know I’ve always wanted to introduce you to the team, which is who I’m here with, and it would be good for you too ‘cus it means you can drink not on your own.” She gives you puppy dog eyes, and clasps her hands together waiting for your answer.
You relent, deciding the sooner you had an interaction with her FBI friends the sooner it was over. You had heard some things, and they seemed lovely, but they were her friends and you had the feeling you wouldn’t be very welcome with your job as a journalist. “Okay fine, but you can’t mention my job. I don’t want them to hate me on the first impression.”
“It’s okay they know, I told them ages ago about what you do. Alright you stay here, I’ll go tell them and then I can introduce you.” She was practically buzzing, so excited you could see it in the air around her. She shuffled away happily, and came back to drag you over a moment later.
As you approached the group, she introduced you in order of where they sat around the table. “That’s JJ, Derek, David, Hotch, Emily, and Spencer. Everybody, this is my friend Y/N.” She smiles all big and goofy and then scrunches up her face in disappointment. “There’s no chairs left.”
You take this as an opportunity. “Well, I suppose that means I should g-“
“Here, you can have mine. I’ll grab one from over there.” Spencer quickly finds a solution, standing to walk over to an unused table and fetch another chair. You follow him with your eyes as he lifts it over. Doctor Spencer Reid. Penelope had mentioned the man on multiple occasions. Ever the problem solver, you gathered from her ramblings on the things he would do and say.
Penelope sits in the chair between JJ and Derek, and the latter lets his arm rest on Penelope’s shoulders. As you sit down in Spencer’s sacrificed chair, he pulls another one in between you and JJ, and you both awkwardly smile at each other before you look down to your hands in your lap. “Thank you.” You whisper to him.
“What for?” He whispers back.
“The chair.” You mumble, and he nods.
“It’s no problem.”
“Okay, I say we get some drinks. How bout it, pretty girl?” Derek's words snap you from your awkwardness, and you smile, realising he’s given you a nickname already.
“I am in dire need of a beer.” You reply, and Emily looks at you from your right.
“Beer, huh? I woulda coined you for a vodka redbull kinda girl. All for the thrills.” She looks at you with a smirk and you shake your head with a giggle.
“I’m normally a whiskey kinda girl actually, I get that from my parents. I only very rarely drink vodka, it just makes me want to make out with people.” The embarrassment soaks in the moment the words come out of your mouth and you realise you’ve just told a group of behavioural analysts that vodka makes you horny.
“Alcohol oftentimes does have the effect of making you sexually confident and can heighten feelings of affection and make you more open to try things sexually. One could assume that your specific set of hormones are just more affected by the chemicals in vodka in comparison to other alcohols.” Spencer pulls his lips into a straight line, and you giggle at his readily available information. Penelope wasn’t joking.
“Thanks, Doc.” You bump his shoulder, and he looks a little confused but mumbles a “No problem” anyway. As he looks away towards Derek and Penelope, you take the chance to study his features discreetly. The angle of his jaw perfectly contrasts the softness of his eyes, the honey brown colour almost sparkling within the dim lighting of the bar. His cheeks are tinged pink from the currently inaudible teasing from Derek, and there’s a little smile on his lips that you could almost envision yourself kissing.
Derek breaks you out of your head a second time. “Hey pretty girl, you wanna go get those drinks now?” He flashes you a grin and you smile, nodding.
“Yea let’s do it. Does everyone know what they want?” As you’re trying to split everyone’s orders between you and Derek, Penelope gives you a look that says “do you have the hots for my friend?” and you give her a look back that says “maybe..” she gasps and the whole table turns to look at her, making her realise that she’d turned the conversation into an out loud one now.
“You know what? Us girls can handle those drinks, Derek. Why don’t you have a seat.” She drags you up to the bar and orders quickly before she forgets, and then whips round to face you.
“You like him. I saw it on your face. You like him!!” She whisper shouts and you glance back to Derek and Spencer hunched over the table chatting. You smile.
“Look at him! Of course I like him, who wouldn’t like him? He’s simultaneously cute and hot and I swear men aren’t supposed to work like that.” You whisper shout back at her, and her smiles sadly.
“I wish I could set you up, but he’s taken. And his girlfriend is amazing so I can’t even be mad about it.” She sighs, and you slightly deflate.
“Oh man, I can’t believe the first time in years that I actually want a guy he’s taken. Just my luck, I suppose.” You laugh, and grab the drinks that have been sat on the bar. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” You shrug your shoulders and head back over to the table with her, handing everyone their drinks and sitting back next to Spencer to sip your own.
After an hour or so, conversation was going a tad dry, and you decided to use an old icebreaker your college roommate had taught you to get things flowing again. “Okay, one after the other I want everyone to tell the group something embarrassing. It can be anything, as long as it’s about you.” Everyone nods in agreement, and Derek starts.
“There was this one time I was flirting with a girl while I was out with my mom. Now that was my first mistake, my mom comes over and starts talkin to this girl askin if she’s my girlfriend. I said momma I’ve only just met her, and she said ‘well then you better hurry up, this girl is far too beautiful for you to pass up’. Before I could even speak, the girl says ‘I think you’re too beautiful to pass up’. She was talkin to my mom! And I just thought hey maybe she’s just tryna get on moms good side, you know? You win over mom, you win over me. But then she spent 10 minutes flirting with my mother until I had to drag her away. My mom will not stop bringing it up just to mock me.”
Spencer cracked up beside you at the story, and you couldn't help laughing a little with him.
Penelope pipes in, “Tell them when this happened.” He grimaces.
“Last year.” He barely says it loud enough to hear, but you all catch it and it sends you all into a fit of laughter.
Rossi reminisces about the time he proposed to one of his ex wives, and she said no. In public. Then later in the day said yes, telling him she just wanted to embarrass him the way his public proposal had embarrassed her.
Hotch talks of the time he finished work early and decided to pick up Jack from school. The teacher had asked him if he was Jack’s grandfather, and he had to explain that he most definitely was not.
“I once hugged my friend from behind to tell her goodbye at a party. It wasn’t my friend.” Is all Emily gives for details. She grimaces at the sheer memory of it, and you can’t help the little smile that graces your lips.
“My turn then?” You question the group, and they nod. “I probably should’ve used this time to think of what I was gonna say. Well I suppose I’ll use the only one that’s currently present in my mind,” You turn to face Spencer, “I was gonna ask you out before Penelope had to drag me away and tell me you were taken. Which was slightly embarrassing for me in the moment, but as I’m saying this I realise I’ve just embarrassed myself even more.” You nod through your internal pain at how stupid you felt, and took a deep breath before trying to move on. Spencer looked too taken aback to let that happen.
“You were gonna ask me out? And Penelope told you I was in a relationship? Why would she do that?” He looks plain confused now, and you mirror his expression.
“I never told you Spencer was in a relationship. I told you Derek was in a relationship, because I thought he was the friend you said you liked! Wait. So when you said he was hot you meant Spencer?” Now even Penelope looked confused, although not exactly for the same reason you were.
“Yes! Of course I meant Spencer! No offence Derek, you’re lovely but you’re not my type.” You rushed, giving him a sheepish smile.
“And I am?” Spencer speaks again.
“Pretty much yea.” The smile he gives you at your words makes you look away nervously.
“So what you mean is that if you hadn’t been told I was taken I could have went on a date with you?” He’s looking inquisitively at your face now, tracing for signs of a lie as he waits for you to respond.
“You still could go on a date with me.” You suggest, with a little shrug and a smile that reaches your eyes.
“I’d like that.” He nods, slightly enthusiastic but trying to play it cool.
“Me too.” You nod with him. “I should probably be heading home, I have work I still need to catch up on. But I could give you my number and you could take me to your favourite place or something. Somewhere I can get to know you just from looking around.” You suggest, gathering your things and scribbling your number down on a spare napkin.
“That sounds good- great. That sounds great.” His eyes are filled with a mixture of excitement and something else you’re not sure about, but the look on his face makes you smile.
“Call me then.” You nod finally, getting up to leave. You give everyone their goodbyes, hugging them all lightly and giving Spencer a little wave.
Over the next few days the anticipation of his call is almost overwhelming. And when your phone begins to ring, an unfamiliar number popping up on the screen, you bite your nail before clicking the answer button. “Hello?”
“Hi.”
A/N: I don’t actually really like this, but it’s fine. I wanna do a part two, someone tell me to do a part two plsplsplspls. (May rewrite this once i’m not jet lagged and cramming it between studying but idk)
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girlokwhatever · 9 hours
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paige x short uconn wbb player gf hcs!!! but like their relationship isn’t public 🫣
(short as in like 5’3-5’5 hehe)
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paige bueckers x short!wcbb player!reader
୭ ✧ ˚. 🏀✧˚ · .༊*·˚𐦍༘⋆ paige with a short basketball player gf,,
— you caught her eye INSTANTLY during basketball workouts at uconn
— she was actually so impressed to find out you’re an 83% three-point shooter
— at first during practice she was so scared to even run near you because she didn’t want to hurt you or actually tumble over you
— made a bet with the rest of the team that she could jump over you..
- obviously it didn’t work
— in practice she’ll lift you up so you can dunk
— SOSOSO PROTECTIVE OVER YOU
- she second you get fouled she’s right by your side
- will defo play dirty with whoever fouled you
— you’re such a dynamic duo on the court
- that’s what the press says LOL
— will make jokes constantly about how short you are
- especially on live
- “guys she’s the shortest basketball player in history”
— the media doesn’t know you’re dating lowkey
— they always just say that “paige is really dedicated to the team and you can see that through their bond”
— loves assisting you
— resists every urge to kiss you after a win
- resists even harder to kiss your forehead after a loss
— had to teach you how to block good
- “you can still block even if you’re only three feet tall”
— always giving you little glances during post-game media
— you guys can communicate so well on the court (you always know what the other person is tryna do)
- will set the most amazing screens without you even motioning for them
— the media is lowkey suspicious because you play TOO WELL together
— has to wait awhile after the game so no onside can see you leave together
— when she was injured you dedicated every shot you made to her
— will literally ask you at 3am if you want to just practice shooting
- you always say yes
— if you get injured she’s by your side in a split second
— the whole team teases you for your height
- ESPECIALLY KK
— one time you broke some girls ankles and paige saw from the bench (screams cheering)
- “that should’ve been illegal it was so good”
— paige tells the rest of the team to go crazy when you cheer so she’s not the only one
— she wants to wear your jersey but it’s too fucking small
— going against SC is crazy
- “babe she’s more than a foot taller than you. you can’t guard her.”
— “short stuff”
— everyone underestimates you bc of your height but you’re literally a fireball and your gf knows it
— you’ll always forever be each other’s biggest fan
⋆˚✿˖°ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.
heyyyyyyyyyy guys i’m back…. 😅😅
kate martin fics??!!!!!
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queenxxxsupreme · 1 day
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At the End of the World (Cooper Howard x reader)
(Part 2)
A/N: So I don’t know how much I like this, but I think after this piece I’m going to try to follow some of the show but just add my own little twists into it :) I hope you guys like it! Enjoy!!
Warning: nothing outside of canon, mentions of bad dreams and of child loss, a twisted ankle
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Sometimes Lucy doesn’t know when to stop asking questions. Here is Part 1 in case anyone missed it :)
You jolted awake, eyes opening wide and lips parting with a soft gasp. Your heart beat so hard against your chest that it actually hurt.
“Easy, doll.”
You furrowed your brows as you looked up at Cooper. Your head rested in his lap, his hand gently brushing over your hair.
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your hands over your face.
“Shit.” You cursed.
”Everything alright?”
”Yeah. Yeah, um…. Just a bad dream, I guess.” You looked over your shoulder to him. You moved to sit against your backpack, your leg brushing against Cooper’s. You bent your knees slightly, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “Do you have my smokes?”
He reached into the pocket on his jacket for the carton of cigarettes and a lighter. You took the carton and pulled out a cigarette. His eyes watched you put the stick between your lips. With a flick of his thumb, a flame appeared over the lighter. You leaned over to light the cigarette, taking a small breath.
“Heart’s racin’.” He commented.
You leaned back, blowing a cloud of smoke out of your mouth.
Your hand falls down to your lap, the cigarette dangling loosely between two fingers.
You try to fight the feeling, to fight the scratchy lump forming in your throat. Your right eye stings with tears and your chest tightened as if you were being suffocated.
“I miss her so much, Coop.” Though your voice was weak, he could hear your words just fine.
“I know ya do, doll.”
You hastily brushed the tears off of your cheek. Your gaze fell upon the Vault Dweller that laid fast asleep just a few feet away from you.
You raised the cigarette to your lips, the stick trembling just slightly in your grip.
“My Gracie would be about her age now.”
Wordlessly, Cooper reached over to place his hand on your knee. He didn’t know how to comfort you, how to make you feel better. As a parent himself, he knew what it was like to lose a child. Though for him, there was the smallest chance that his girl was still alive. He just wasn’t sure.
”Finish that cigarette, doll, then you need to try to go to sleep.”
You stiffly shook your head.
“I don’t want to sleep. If-If I have to see her again….” You trailed off.
Cooper let out a soft sigh. You were one stubborn lady.
Silence fell between the two of you. Your eyes seemed glued to Lucy but your gaze was blank. Even though you sat right next to him, you were a thousand miles away.
***
When the sun came up, you, Lucy, and Cooper were back to trudging across the Wasteland. You walked a few feet ahead of Lucy and behind her was Cooper. His eyes continuously scanned the Wasteland for any signs of danger, one hand resting on a handgun on his hip. He had bound Lucy’s hands before the three of you started your journey. He didn’t trust her.
“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Lucy spoke as she jogged to catch up to you. You glanced over to her for a few moments before looking back to the path ahead.
“I’m not feeling too chatty today. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
”Are you okay?”
”Yes, I’m fine.”
”I’ve been having a lot of bad dreams lately too.” Lucy sighed out. “There’s just…. There’s so much death and-and blood. I don’t know how people do it.”
”We don’t have any other choice.”
”Yeah, I guess.” The vault dweller shrugged her shoulders.
“Some of us have had to go through so much that the thought of giving up now seems…. It seems pointless. We just….” You paused for a moment. “We just have to keep finding the next thing to keep us going.”
”Like what?” She looked over to you. “Icy, I-I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. You had a family, a whole family and-and now…. I wouldn’t be able to keep going.”
You pressed your lips together. You wanted to be angry with her, to be upset with her. If she thought that everything that had happened to her in the short time she’s been on the surface was bad, she was in for a nasty surprise.
“Sometimes after such loss…. It takes finding someone else who has been through similar things to keep you going.”
Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the Ghoul that traveled a little ways behind them.
The vaultie followed you down a slight incline, but she stepped the wrong way and twisted her ankle. Immediately, she fell to the ground from the pain.
“Ah! Ow! Ow, ow ow!”
”Quiet down, girly.” You knelt down beside her. She clutched at her ankle, groaning in pain. With your cybernetic left eye, you could see that she had overstretched the ligaments.
”What the hell happened, Vaultie?” Cooper looked down at the two of you.
“She sprained her ankle.” You sighed, untying her boot.
“Course she did.”
“Wait, what-what are you doing?” Lucy furrowed her brows.
”Your ankle is going to swell and if you leave it in your boot, it’ll only do you more damage.”
”Oh. O-Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess.” Lucy breathed. “Are-Are you a doctor?”
You looked at her for a couple moments. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she was being serious or joking with you.
You put the boot into your backpack and stood up.
“She’s not going to be able to walk much longer, Coop.”
”Well she don’t got much of a choice, does she?”
You looked to the west where the sun was beginning to set.
“We’re about four hours out from Alma’s.” You looked to Cooper. His jaw went slack as he brought his hand up to rub his brow.
“Damn it.”
”Who’s Alma?” Lucy started to try to stand up. You held your hand out for her to help her to her feet, then you cut off the rope binding her hands together. It would make it easier to help her walk with her hands not stuck together. “Thanks.”
”She’s a friend.”
”A friend ain’t what I’d call her. She tried to kill me last time I saw her.”
”Well she isn’t exactly your biggest fan, Cooper.”
The Ghoul held your gaze. He didn’t want to go all the way to Alma’s. It was out of the way and would just tack more time on to the trip. Not to mention, he didn’t want Alma involved. But with Lucy’s new injury, you really didn’t have a choice.
”I reckon we’re goin’ to Alma’s.”
”Come on, Lucy.” You moved to stand on her right side to provide her support while she walked.
***
Six Hours Later
It was dark by the time you arrived at your destination. It was in what used to be a suburban neighborhood but many of the houses had long since been abandoned. You passed by one derelict house after another, eyes carefully scanning broken windows and rubble for any signs of danger. You knew the danger would be limited as Alma was in charge of most of the raiders in the area, but sometimes the raiders were a little rowdy and eager to attack.
There was one house that stood a little better than those around it. Its windows were mostly boarded up and there was a barbed wire fence around it. The siding of the house had long since lost its original color, instead taking on a more rusty brown color. The right side of the roof to the front porch had fallen in and it made the house appear unsafe to enter.
You stopped at the fence and let Lucy go.
“You two stay out here for just a moment.” Your eyes flickered back to Cooper. He nodded once in acknowledgement.
You slipped between the barbed fencing and then climbed the creaky wooden stairs. Just as you were about to knock on the door, it was pulled open.
An older woman stood in the doorway, a shotgun by her side. Her dark but graying hair was put up in some sort of high mess atop her head. Behind large lensed wire framed glasses were two big brown eyes.
“Icy May. Ain’t no way in hell I thought I’d be seein’ you again.” The shotgun in her hand was leaned against the wall on the inside of the house.
“Hello, Alma.” You smiled, embracing her tightly. “It’s good to see you.”
”You too, dear. So good to see such a pretty face.” She pulled away to get a better look at you. “You look all in one piece. What brings you all the way out this way, darlin?”
”I have a huge favor to ask you.” You stepped aside so that Alma could see the two who traveled with you.
Alma leaned forward, eyes squinting as she struggled to see whoever it was even with her glasses on.
“Oh hell, Icy May.” She shook her head, adjusting the old cardigan that she wore.
“Well ain’t it my favorite old maid.” Cooper spoke, giving Lucy a nudge to go through the fence. Lucy slipped between two of the barbed wires and nervously started for the stairs.
“Shut the hell up, you old bastard. I still haven’t gotten over what you did last time you was here.” Alma nodded her head to the side of the porch that had fallen in.
“I happen to think it made this place look better. More welcomin’.”
”Well I ain’t trying to be more welcomin’.” Alma put her hands on her hips. Her eyes followed Lucy as she struggled to get up the stairs. “What in the hell is this, Icy? A vault dweller?”
”It’s a long story, Alma.” You shook your head. “We just need to rest for the night.”
Her eyes flickered up to you, hesitating. A vault dweller could mean big trouble.
”Aw, what the hell.” She threw her hands in the air and turned to go into her house. She picked up the shotgun she had left by the door.
You offered Lucy your shoulder once again and walked with her to the living room.
The house wasn’t as bad on the inside as it was on the outside. Wallpaper was peeling off of the walls and in some places, it was missing all together. There was a fireplace that had been filled up with rocks. A sofa, which had definitely seen better days, was in the living room. Beside it was a rocking chair and a little end table. It appeared as though the end table was a combination of two different tables put together.
“You have a lovely home.” Lucy complimented.
Alma shook her head, swatting a hand at the Vaultie.
“There’s food in the pantry and water in the washroom down the hall. You’d better get cleaned up and settled for the night. It’s already late.”
”Thank you, Alma.” You offered her a little smile. “We’ll be gone when the sun rises.”
”Better be. Don’t want Howard fuckin’ anything up anymore than he got to.”
“Missed you too, ya old bat.” Cooper muttered.
You took Lucy to the washroom and left her there, then you went to the kitchen. Cooper was already helping himself to the pantry. He sat at the kitchen table with a can of some sort of nonperishable food.
“There’s the couch in the living room and there’s two rooms with mattresses.” Alma told you. She moved around the kitchen, gathering up a canteen and a pack of cigarettes.
”Where are you scurryin’ off to?” Cooper asked her.
”I ain’t scurryin’ nowhere, asshole. It’s past my bedtime and you bunch look worse than the backside of a feral hog.” Alma stopped at you to give you a one armed hug. “We’ll talk in the mornin’, honey.”
”Good night, Alma.”
”Night, girly.”
You watched her leave the kitchen then listened to the floorboards creak as she disappeared down the hallway.
“You should eat somethin’.” Cooper spoke. You rubbed his shoulder before moving to pull a chair up beside him.
“I will.”
It felt nice to finally be able to sit down. Your feet hurt and you were exhausted.
Cooper leaned forward to give your knee a squeeze. Your eyes flickered up to meet his gaze.
***
A little while later, Lucy had retired to the room she was going to be staying in. You and Cooper would be sharing the other mattress in the room across the hall from Lucy.
You made your way down the hallway, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to disturb Alma.
You came to a stop in the doorway of Lucy’s room, watching her as she sat on the edge of the mattress . She was in the process of eating a can of peaches when she noticed you were standing in the door.
“Oh, um…” She quickly swallowed a peach and held the can out towards you. “Do you want a peach?”
”No, thank you.” You shook your head. “Alma is a good friend of mine.”
”Oh, yeah! She’s incredible. Super nice person.”
”Can I trust you to be here, Lucy?”
She stopped eating the peaches and directed her attention to you.
“She’s taking a big risk letting us stay here for the night. If anything happened to her while we were here….” You trailed off. “Alma’s one of the last few good people out here.”
She nodded her head softly, understanding what you were telling her.
”So do I have to keep an eye on you or can I trust you?”
”You can trust me.”
You weren’t sure you completely believed her.
“Good.” You turned to leave but she stopped you.
“Thank you, Icy. For…. For everything.”
You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.
“You need to stop thanking me.”
“You’ve practically saved my life by showing up. Who knows what that man would’ve done with me if you hadn’t come along.”
You gazed at her for a few moments, her bright blue eyes still filled with some sort of kindness. It wasn’t often that you came across those kinds of people.
“Good night, Lucy.”
“Oh, uh good night, Icy.” Lucy was confused with your sudden ending of the conversation. That seemed to be a trait of yours.
You moved down the hallway, your quiet footsteps still making the floorboards squeak.
Cooper was in the room the two of you would be sharing. He had taken off his bandolier, holster belt, and duster coat. All items had been placed in a pile at the foot of the mattress. The ghoul was lounging across the mattress with his breather in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and his shoulders leaning up against your backpack. One knee was bent and that was where his hat rested.
His eyes watched as you took off most of your layers. First it was your jacket, then the old flannel, and tattered sweatshirt. You were left in cargo pants, boots, and a thin brown tank top that had definitely seen better days. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail it was in to fix it up for the night.
“My, my, my. Ain’t you a sight fit for kings.”
I tried to bite back the smile that crept across your face but it was no use.
“Keep the charming to yourself, old man. We need to get some sleep.” You sat down on the mattress facing the ghoul. You leaned your torso against his bent leg, picking up his hat and placing it on your head.
He offered you the cigarette, which you gladly took. His breather was discarded on the floor beside the mattress.
You inhaled and held the chemicals in your lungs for a few moments. As you exhaled, Cooper brought his hand up to cup your face. His thumb, calloused and rough, traced your bottom lip.
You let him do so, your eyes steadily watching his face.
He traced the curve of your bottom lip, then used his fingertips to trail along your cheekbone and your temple. He brushed a few pieces of hair back out of your face.
”So what’s your big plan once we get to Hank MacLean?”
The ghoul paused for a moment, pulling his hand away from your face to rest it on his chest. You passed the cigarette back to him and he took it.
”I want to know what happened to them.” He was quiet as to not let his voice carry throughout the otherwise silent house.
You nodded your head. Cooper waited for you to speak. He waited, and waited, and waited. But you said nothing. All you could do was gaze down at one of the buttons on his shirt. The original button, which had been a light shade of brown, was torn off some time ago but you recall sewing a dark green button in its place.
“Say somethin’, doll.” He urged you, tapping the side of your leg gently.
You bit the inside of your cheek, finishing off the cigarette with a deep inhale.
“I hope you find the answers you’re looking for, sweetheart.” You put the cigarette out on the soul of your boot and started to move, wanting to reposition yourself. Cooper stopped you from moving, his hand grabbing yours.
“I just…. I have to find out, Icy.”
”I know.” You murmured softly with a nod of your head. “I’d want to know too, if I was in your place.”
It wasn’t like the two of you were in a full fledged relationship where one of you had asked the other to commit to you, but it also wasn’t casual. Cooper Howard didn’t do casual. It was far too hard to trust someone enough for that sort of thing.
”Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about it.” He put his head back, his hand steadily rubbing your leg as he directed his eyes to the ceiling. “I mean, if MacLean has been able to live this long, then there’s a chance…. even the smallest of one…. that they could be out there.”
You smiled a little, though it was sad and didn’t reach your eyes. If you believed in a higher power, you would pray to them to make it all true, to make his hopes and desires a reality. It was what he deserved after all that he had been through.
Though you wanted to be happy for him, your chest tightened a little with the idea of him finding his family. What would happen to you if he found his wife and his daughter?
You reached out to take his hand away from your leg, clasping your fingers together tightly.
“I hope they are.” You brought his hand up to kiss the inside of his wrist.
Cooper watched you kiss his wrist once, then twice before holding his hand in your lap. He didn’t let you linger in your thoughts for too long. He pulled you down towards him, making you lay down beside him.
“It’s nothin’ but wishful thinking.” He thought out loud.
“Sometimes that’s all that keeps us going.”
***
The Next Morning
Lucy made her way out of her room, using the wall for support as she limped down the hallway. She peered into the living room and found it empty. Her next stop was the kitchen.
The Ghoul sat at the kitchen table, which was covered in an assortment of junk. He was wiping off one of his hand guns.
Lucy looked around the kitchen, hoping and praying she’d find you or Alma.
Cooper glanced up at the vault dweller, very briefly meeting her gaze before looking back down at his weapons.
“Oh, um…. Good morning.” Lucy greeted him in an attempt to be friendly, but friendly wasn’t Cooper Howard’s thing.
He stayed silent.
Lucy leaned against the doorway to take her weight off of her ankle.
”Is Icy up yet?”
”She went out with Alma.” His answer was short and stiff.
“Oh, okay.” Lucy nodded her head.
She stood there for a few moments awkwardly. Should she just go back to the bedroom and hideout until you and Alma returned?
Oh, what the heck.
Lucy limped over to the table and pulled out a bulky wooden chair to sit in. She sighed in relief as she sat down. She examined the amount of junk on the table, curious as to what exactly everything was.
It wasn’t long before Lucy became bored and found herself watching the ghoul that had taken her hostage.
“So…. Is your name Cooper? Or is it Howard? Because, well, I heard Icy call you one and Alma called you another. So I guess I’m just a little confused.” She chuckled nervously.
”My name don’t matter to you, Vaultie.” He sat the handgun down on the table then picked up a shotgun.
“Well I’d like to have something to call you when I talk to you, to have a conversation like real people do.”
”Ah, but who said I wanted to have a conversation with you?”
Lucy pressed her lips together. This man was awfully hard to get along with.
”That’s fair, I guess.” She nodded.
Silence fell between the two as Cooper continued to clean the gun. Once he was finished cleaning the sawed off shotgun, he began to load it.
Lucy sighed, bored out of her mind. Cooper wasn’t entertaining at all. She messed with the cuff on her suit to try to keep herself occupied and to try to keep her mouth shut for a little bit longer.
“Do you love her?” The question kind of just came out without Lucy really realizing what she had said.
Cooper dropped the bullet that he was trying to shove into his gun. It made a loud banging noise as it hit the floor.
“What in the hell did you just say to me, Miss MacLean?” He looked at her, his eyes dark and sharpened.
The use of her name made Lucy feel on edge. He had always just called her Vaultie.
“I-I was just— I just see the way you guys are with each other. I didn’t mean it in-in a bad way, you know?”
The ghoul was silent as he held her gaze. He leaned forward to retrieve the bullet from the ground. He shoved it into the gun and placed the gun on the table.
The front door to the house creaked open. Lucy turned her head to see. You and Alma walking in.
“How’d you sleep, honey?” Alma put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. The vault dweller opened her mouth to answer but Alma spoke over her. “Howard, if you don’t get your damn guns off my table, I’m gonna beat the piss outta you.”
Cooper didn’t offer any sort of smart comment back. He just picked up each gun and tucked them into their appropriate holster.
“I slept well, thank you. Where, uh, where did you guys go?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to you.
“Had to make a run early this morning.” You placed your backpack on the table, pushing some of the junk back so you had space. You rummaged through the bag before pulling out a stimpack. ”How’s your ankle feeling?”
”Really bad, actually. It’s super sore and looks very bruised.” Lucy eyed the giant needle at the end of the stimpack. “What’s, um, what’s that for?”
”You’re ankle. You can’t travel with a busted ankle and we can’t stay here.”
”But what is it?”
”A stimpack. It will heal your ankle up enough to get you back on your feet.”
With no warning, Cooper stood up and left the room rather hastily. Old floorboards creaked beneath the weight of his worn boots.
“What crawled up his ass?” Alma pushed her glasses back on to her head to hold her hair back out of her eyes.
“I don’t know.” You hummed. You listened to him move around in one of the back bedrooms.
He wasn’t a chatty person by any means, but surely he would’ve greeted you and Alma with some sort of witty remark. And you were very positive he would’ve given Alma an asinine remark about his guns on her table.
“What happened while we were gone?” You turned your attention to Lucy.
“I-I was just trying to talk with him.” She put her hands up, shaking her head.
“And…. Boy is he difficult to have a conversation with.”
You sighed heavily. Why couldn’t the vaultie get it through her head that sometimes she needed to shut up?
“I’ll be back in a second, Alma.” You looked over to your friend before going down the hallway to the bedroom Cooper was in.
He stood leaning against the side of the open window. He was fidgeting with his breather, replacing the empty vial with a full one.
”You leave me with that girl again, woman, and you’re gonna be scrapin’ what’s left of her brain off of Alma’s walls.” He grumbled.
You pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of your jacket.
“She’s got a way of getting under your skin.” You put the cigarette between your lips and tucked the carton away, then pulled out a lighter. “What’d she say?”
”Don’t matter.” He took a puff of the breather. You held the cigarette out to him and he gladly took it, crossing the room and closing the space between the two of you in just a few strides.
You watched as he put the cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag from him.
“I’ll fuckin’ gut her like a pig next time she tries to talk to me.”
”You don’t mean that.” You shook your head gently.
He exhaled the cigarette smoke right into your face, then took another quick puff of it.
”Like hell I don’t.”
You took the cigarette from between his fingers.
“She means well.”
Cooper watched you, his gaze still hard and angry. You inhaled the cigarette.
“What did she say to you, Cooper?” Your voice was quiet.
He looked down at you for a while. Then let out a breath and adjusted the hat on his head, casting his eyes downward to his boots.
”We need to be leavin’.”
Without another word, the Ghoul slipped past you to go down the hallway.
taglist: @green--beanie @mack-attack420 @miniemonie2001 @eykismyfav @fallout-girl219 (I think I tagged anyone but I’m so sorry if I missed you!)
204 notes · View notes
neoplatinum · 2 days
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primadonna girl | cho miyeon
summary: dispatch catching you with korea's femme fatale is NOT on your 2024 bingo card
pairing: idol!miyeon x fem!reader
themes: clubbing in hongdae!, mentions of alcohol, implied sex, hook up buddies, dispatch :(, minor angst, fluff, shuhua! + her doggies
wc: 2.7k
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[hongdae, 1am]
you grab your glass half full and down it, leaving the bar. the sting of the hard liquor making you shudder all over. the sea of bodies is making it hard to move around. you weave through the bodies heading for your friend's silhouette across the dark room.
when you feel tugging on your shirt. you turn around to the sight of a gorgeous girl with blood red lipstick and light blonde hair.
she nearly stumbles into you, underestimating her drunk strength.
her face is flushed even in the lowlight of blue and green lasers. her body tilts forward into you as she reaches her hand out.
you shake it, a little confused at the gesture. she's probably drunk out of her mind and mistaken you for someone she knows.
"can i help you?" you ask as you continue to shake her hand. she giggles at the action and covers her laugh with her hand before nodding her head.
"yes, your number?" she tilts her head as she asks the question, you're a little shocked at the boldness. her eyes shine in the light and she giggles a bit before shoving her hand into your jean pocket and grabbing your phone.
she faces the phone in your face before looking for the phone app, adding her contact into your phone. you let her too, mouth agape as you watch her type her contact info into your phone.
"call me?" she says as she tucks the phone back into your pocket. giving you a kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd on the dancefloor.
--
you don't call her. you don't see her for weeks actually, not until you're out with your friends in another different club.
you don't spot her, but she spots you. too busy in a trance of people watching the dance floor to notice her.
she walks over, moving past the sea of people and making a beeline straight for you.
"hi, lost my number?" she starts, pulling you towards a more secluded part of the club. less sweaty, you focus on her, she's got the same blood red lipstick on, a dark you barely register what she's saying.
"no, i don't know you, sorry." you say quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. she nods at you.
"that's why i gave you my number, so we could get to know each other."
"oh, sorry, no one has ever done this. i’m just confused with what to do." she nods and brushes all of it away.
"no problem, just call me, okay?" she says, and you agree. feeling inclined to do whatever she says with those gorgeous eyes staring back at you.
"come dance with me." she says and pulls you closer to dance up against her. you get lost in the passion.
--
so, it turns into becoming hook up buddies? friends with benefits, but not friends? sleep partners? it's hard to understand what exactly you two are considering how little you two interact outside of hooking up occasionally.
doesn't help that it’s never at the same place more than twice. sometimes you show up to a studio at 4pm on a tuesday, other times its 2am on a saturday in a club. or sometimes even a bathroom in 9am in some cafe.
it's hard to really understand why you're doing this too, you just feel so inclined to answer every text, no matter what you're doing. each time you leave you feel a little more intrigued by her.
she always manages to send a car for you to get back home though, no matter how far or weird the location is. you think it’s almost like an escort service...but you're not being paid.
it's mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous girl way out of your league, so really you let all precaution leave your body every time she sends a text. lately it's been less frequent, and sometimes you think about reaching out and seeing how she's doing. but you've never initiated anything, it's always her telling you where to go and when to go.
you feel like you don't know your own power in this dynamic. you begin to really miss this girl, even though you don't know her name.
--
your friend, for whatever reason, dropped so much money on her favorite girl group's concert. begging you to join her, even negotiating ticket prices so you'll be more inclined to go. you ask her who the group is, and she says gidol?
you're very unsure of who they are. but she does tell you that they have that famous song called queencard, so you agree to go. now you stand outside jamsil indoor stadium, watching everyone decked out in purple. while you're still trying to figure out who's who in the group.
you never get to figure it out once you're rushed inside by screaming fans behind you. you nearly stumble over yourself, but mostly you make it to your seat without bumps or bruises.
the signature sound of the group's song getting louder makes the stadium erupt in a roar. the stadium turns into a sea of flashing purple with all the lightsticks.
the concert starts and you're watching the concert videos being played. you focus on one girl; she looks so familiar, but the scene ends too quick for you to really figure it out. and after another minute of screaming, the lift brings up five girls. they stand center stage, lights shining on them looking like they own it.
then you see her, the woman that's been leaving you walking weird, and your neck mauled all last month. her blonde hair draping over her body, a tight red and black corset, and heels high enough to break ankles. your blood runs cold.
"who's the girl there?" you shout into your friend’s ear. she's trying to see who you're pointing at.
"which one?" she asks, shouting into your ear over the screams.
"the one in the middle!" you shout back.
"oh! that's miyeon!" she says and returns back to her cheering. miyeon, miyeon, miyeon. you pull out your phone, fingers flying across the screen to search up the name on naver. and there at the very first result is exactly pretty girl from the bar. you probably stared at the photo for a couple minutes, just so your brain can catch up to who're you’re looking at.
you bring up the camera app to snap a photo of her. a weird feeling sitting in your chest. it feels like you have been deceived. she never mentioned her day job, something along the lines of being in the music industry, but she never mentioned being a top idol.
you try to enjoy the rest of the concert, chanting through queencard and super lady, but in your heart, you are thinking about miyeon. what else could she be hiding?
by the end of the concert, you pull out your phone. sending the photo of miyeon that you took earlier.
(me): you never told me you were an idol....
(me): attachment: 1 image
you shove your phone back into your pants. feeling a little frustrated, you two never disclosed much information to each other about your personal lives, but now you can see why. the girl you have been sleeping with is a global superstar, korea's princess. here you are in a taxi trying to get home, with your friend talking your ear off about how amazing the concert was.
it starts to spread, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest. you feel like you exposed yourself for nothing. now you find out cho miyeon, the girl that is such an expert at eating you out, has a whole other part of her life. it explains the random locations you were asked to go to. probably photoshoots, or the times in between her busy schedule. you are just a booty call to her.
when you finally get home, exhausted from all the shouting at the concert and making sure your friend gets home safe. you hear the signature ringtone sound you set for miyeon.
girl from the bar: can we meet up to talk?
you call miyeon.
"hi miyeon, when can you meet?"
"tomorrow afternoon." she says, you can still hear the sound of busy traffic, maybe she's just getting home now.
"yeah, that works. where did you want to meet?"
"you know that park by the han river, the one we ate ramyeon at." you hear movement through the phone, but you agree. it is time to finally settle what you've wanted to say the whole night.
"see you then miyeon."
--
"hi." she stands before you, hoodie over a cap and sunglasses bigger than her face. with a mask tucked over her lower face. you stare at her in confusion. this get up is really different from how you usually see her.
"are you sick?" you ask.
"no, disguise." she offers instead. it makes sense, she is cho miyeon of g-idle. so, you sit down, and she sits by you. both of you staring out into the han river. people are biking and enjoying walks, while you are having a nerve-wracking conversation with miyeon. she fiddles with the sleeves of her hoodie as she waits for you to start.
"would you have told me yourself? about being in gidle?" you start. it is time to rip the band-aid off.
"probably not." she answers honestly. you sigh at that.
"okay. we aren't dating but i still feel like i've been deceived by a partner."
"i'm sorry." she continues. feeling a bit guilty from withholding her identity from you. "you didn't recognize me when we were first talking, so i figured it would be okay if we kept this lowkey."
now you feel both upset and awful, miyeon's probably had to walk on eggshells ever since she's been in the industry. keeping her identity hidden as she enjoys her life. you want to apologize too, for pressing her on this matter.
"i'm sorry too then. must be hard trying to stay out of the public eye when you want to have fun." miyeon agrees, nodding her head at the honest observation. meeting you was good; it was a way to protect her idol image while enjoying herself. you never asked for more, and she never offered more. it was the perfect.
"so, what do you want to do now?" you ask.
"i'm okay with continuing what we have if you are okay with it. you cannot tell anyone you know me though." she says, firm about her identity.
"that's okay with me. i would not sell you out." you offer your hand, and she shakes on it.
--
you are trying to finish up this dinner, stirring the stew in the pot, when you hear your front door open. sight of your friend bursting through the door.
"you whore!" she shouts at you, closing the door behind her as she walks right up to you. shoving her phone in your face. "you're the one dating miyeon?"
"woah, what are you talking about?" panic rising in your body. you take her phone and read the top headline.
DISPATCH: [BREAKING] CHO MIYEON OF (G)I-DLE SEEN WITH GIRLFRIEND
you look below, and photos of you and miyeon (poorly taken), were filling the article. photos of you and miyeon spotted at bars, her photoshoots, late nights outside, even the conversation you had with her by the han river.
"so? you are actually dating her?" your friend accuses you, hands on her hips as she stares at you.
"shit, i need to call miyeon." you hand your friend her phone, before pulling out your own. speed dialing miyeon, it is picked up immediately.
"miyeon."
"i know, i've seen it everywhere." she says, you can hear the sounds of people all around her, swear words being thrown around. you panic while you wait.
"what do we do?"
"nothing to do, we lay low. don't be seen out in public first off. they're going to try and pry into everything in your life." she continues.
"damn it miyeon, i have a life to live, i can't be holed up in my house forever waiting for this to die down." you say back, thinking about work and your life. your friend senses your frustration and stops to sit down.
"i'm sorry, i really am. it's out of my hands right now, the company is deciding what to do next. i'm not even supposed to answer your calls." she explains, and that just makes you feel worse.
feeling like you've been cornered. but then you think, this must be worse for her.
"what about you, do you have to lay low too?" you ask.
"yes, i have to wait until the news cycle shifts to another headline. so, i can't be seen outside or online. it's frustrating but i can handle it, i’m sorry to drag you into this too." she explains, feeling sympathetic for all that has happened.
as much as you want to be upset at miyeon, it's not her fault there’s rabid fans who lack boundaries and are so interested in the private life of idols. you think in a different setting you would have dated miyeon, had there not be paparazzi swarming her for the intimate details of her life.
so, you relent, letting her have her space. the call ended a week ago and you've been cautious being seen outside. putting on a disguise much like the one miyeon wore when she met you.
not seeing miyeon for a week has made you miss her. with both of you forced to lay low in the public's eye, you often chat over the phone. calling or messaging, it's a relief to know that she won't just toss you to the side now that the news is out.
you start to realize that missing miyeon isn't about the mind-blowing sex or the thrill of not knowing where you'll have to meet her. it’s the excitement of being near her, being able to kiss her under the guise of sexual intimacy. the ability to spend the truly little time she has carved out for you.
you feel like a teenager in love, running around at her beck and call because you miss her desperately. late night calls with miyeon feel like they're turning into virtual dates. often eating dinner over the phone together and spilling to each other the details of your life.
--
"hey, visit me. in the dorms." she says one day over call. you stop your reading as you look up at the screen with miyeon's face filling the screen.
"right now?"
"right now." she says with a smile, and you get up, keys in hand and slipping on your slippers. nearly running out the door to find a cab. miyeon texts you her address, and you take off, smiling at the idea of seeing miyeon after not being around her for two weeks.
after paying for the taxi and looking at the building where her dorm is. you tuck your cap a little lower and quicken your steps. eager to be able to see miyeon. you walk up the stairs to the third floor and knock on the door.
the sound of dogs barking through the door. and there is miyeon, behind the door with her dogs rushing up on your legs. jumping for attention. you give them both ear scratches before walking straight for miyeon, kissing her desperately. pushing her against anything that's close enough.
"hi." she pulls you into another kiss, until you hear something.
"oh, hello." you see another woman. your eyes go wide as you step back, face flushed with embarrassment.
"hi, um, nice to meet you." you offer a hand. the girl smiles and shakes it.
"you must be the girl that miyeon's been seeing." she smiles and picks up the two dogs, putting them on the couch.
"yes. i am. you are?" you ask.
"shuhua, nice to meet you." she says as she turns on the tv.
"nice to meet you shuhua." and you get dragged by miyeon to her room, still feeling the embarrassment of being caught by someone.
"i missed you." miyeon says as you both sit side by side in bed.
"me too."
"i've been thinking about us." she starts. "i want us to date, for real."
"yeah, me too. i would really like that."
"great because i already told my company that i’m serious about you." she says and pulls you into a kiss. dragging her hands down your body.
"oh really? i don't get a say?"
"of course you do, i just thought we both liked each other and wanted to be more."
"i'm messing with you, i would love to be with you." she pushes you backwards and you let out a laugh before pulling her towards you again.
"we're together then." she says with finality.
--
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while. so i powered through it to finish it. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!
263 notes · View notes
flem17ng · 3 days
Text
It’s a date.
UCLA! jessie fleming x reader
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summary: reader starts her first semester at UCLA and meets bruins midfielder, jessie fleming.
content: fluff, short one-shot. author has no knowledge of the American education system.
The first day of university was always going to be hard. New people, new campus, new lecturers and new classes all together. Maybe it was the fact you’d never been this far from home before that made it worse. 
UCLA was your dream school. Quite literally. You remeber looking at the university website back when you where in middle school and imagining yourself there: kicking a ball in the oval, studying in a library, laps in the big pools. the feeling of actually being here was… overwhelming. 
Like all eighteen year olds do, you had launched yourself into this thing head first: packed bags, kissed your dog goodbye and hopped on the plane. And like most eighteen year olds , you where now struck with the intensity of your actions. 
Here you where, miles from home, no connections in the state, standing outside the lecture theatre for your first class. So yes, overwhelming would be the word of choice. 
You looked down at your timetable for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last minute, checking and triple checking that you had got the room right. 
“Environmental Studies: Spheres 101”. The name of the course seemed to taunt you at you stared at it blankly. 
Leave it to you to go to one of the most prestigious sports schools in the world, (doing very minimal sport yourself) and end up doing a course all about what? Water, earth, wind and fire?
You knew it was more important than that of course. You picked environmental engineering for a reason: because you cared about that sort of stuff! 
You took a long breath readying to walk in when-
“Oh shit I am so sorry! God I was not looking where I was going!” The thump in your shoulder didn’t knock you quite as off balance as the thick Canadian accent. You froze for a moment, not knowing whether to be pissed at this stranger’s clumsiness or charmed but the voice that reminded you of home. Your eyes flashed up to meet the source of the voice and decided to be charmed. 
Her eyes where the first thing you noticed: large and brown and…. well charming you suposed. Every other part of the girls face fell neatly into place behind those eyes: perfect, warm and adorned with a lopsided and slightly guilty smile. 
It was then that you realised you hadn’t responded. 
“Oh no don’t worry. I was distracted myself” you rushed out, words melding into a lump as they rushed to get passed your lips. It was worth it as you watched the girls guilt melt away into an easier grin. 
“Another Canadian! I thought I was going to be alone here you know” she laughed “I don’t think I would have survived”. 
You nod eagerly, feeling the other girls  relief. “God same! I’m already off kilter over here”
“Eh. we’ll muddle through” she grinned back giving an animated wink before looking back at the door you where still loitering before. 
“Might need to…” she trailed off at motioned with her chin to the door. 
“Right right yes! I don’t want to be late to learn about the spheres of the environment” you drawled sarcastically. The girl rolled her eyes in agreement. 
“Right!? when I saw that on my timetable I couldn’t believe it! I swear I learned this in 9th grade”. 
“American’s eh?” you tut with a playful smile. God you hoped none of the resident americans would over hear you. 
The girl (you realised you didn’t yet know her name) laughed loudly, her teeth flashing handsomely (Looking at her you realised that “handsome” was a pretty accurate diagnosis: broad shoulders, a freakishly athletic build, sharp jawline. Yes, handsome was the word). Together you walked forward into the lecture hall, thankfully not late before parting ways: her going to sit next to a few other athletic looking girls with tight ponytails, and you going to sit near the front (curse your poor eyesight). 
~
To be brutally honest, after that little interaction, you almost completely forgot about the handsome canadian girl with charming eyes from your environmental engineering course. Almost. You saw her about a few times: in the distance on the playing field, walking around campus. But you hadn’t really talked to her since that first class at the beginning of semester. Everytime you got into class she was already there, sitting next to the Bruins girls, pen in hand, with deadly focus. 
You reasoned that it would be impolite to interrupt her, it would be nosy to try join her little group and it would be downright stalkerish to try track her down across campus. 
Not to mention the university work that was flooding in… it was not stopping for anything, that’s for sure, definitely not your strange hang up over a girl you had one interaction with. 
Your reasoning for this preoccupation was simply that you missed home: Canada seemed so far away especially as the weather only got warmer. This girl was simply a reminder that the faraway moose land was real! Additionally, maybe your brain got confused: a kind interaction plus the familiar Canadian accent equals weird unreasonable attachment. 
You shook your head and tried to refocus your eyes in the screen in front of you. You had been staring at the blank document you so long that your head had started to ache and the hot chocolate you bought before you sat down was now definitely cold. The cafe was one of those tiny ones with maybe three indoor tables and a booming espresso machine that took up most of the counter space by the cash register and drowned out the soft music echoing from the speakers. 
You had found it during the second week of semester and now frequented it most afternoons to try and crank out as many assignments as possible. Routine was important, you must understand that. 
You squeezed your eyes shut and rubbed your temple before being rudely startled by a tap of the shoulder. 
“Jeezus! give a girl some warning please!” you snapped before looking up at the offender. Brown eyes stared back at you filled with an amused glint. 
“We gotta stop meeting like this” she laughed. The same laugh that showed off her handsome features and warm glow. 
“Oh hey! It’s um… you!” it wasn’t meant to sound like a stutter but it came out that way anyways. 
“Jessie” she smiled softly, catching your fumble “Jessie Fleming? We have some lectures together?” 
“Yes no! I remember sorry. I just didn’t catch your name” you rambled, feeling suddenly very foolish. She patted your shoulder to pull you out of the spiral. 
“I know. I’m just messing” she sat down in the seat opposite you with a sigh. 
It was then that you really looked at her. She looked very much the same as she had the first time apart from a few key things: her hair was shorter (sitting just above her shoulders whereas before it had hung in a long plat down her back) and her left eye seemed strangely swollen and purple. 
“Um… get into a fight Fleming?” you asked, indicating to her, now obvious, black eye. To your surprise she laughed!
“Oh this old thing! No just a bad tackle during soccer practice” she grinned, poking the swollen lid with a dramatic wince. 
“Soccer… OH! Oh it makes sense now” you lean back in your chair and look at her like you had only just noticed her properly. 
“Fleming! 21! bruins midfielder! God I never made the connection!” you laughed, feeling stupid. Maybe if you had payed more attention to the sport at your SPORT university, you would have found out her name sooner. 
“Oh hush. It’s really nothing” she muttered looking embarrassed. 
“No, shut up Fleming. No it isn’t! I heard a girl in the library talking about your goal in a match a few weeks ago! Boy I know jack shit about sport but I know it was impressive” you hissed back eagerly. 
“No really-“
“Take the damn compliment Jessie”
“Fine! Thank you” she smiled awkwardly with a role of her eyes “It was a pretty good goal I guess”
You smiled and watched her for a long moment as she settled into the seat fully. Your eyes followed her perfect nose, flickered up to her eyebrows before coming to rest at her lips. How could someone look that good so effortlessly?
“Staring is rude” she stated bluntly, as her lips curled into a smirk. You looked away with a jerk, cheeks flaming. 
“I- I was not!”
“Okay…”
“I wasn’t staring! You soccer types, always so big headed!” you mumble, crossing your arms across your chest. You felt childish: of course you had been staring! God how silly that this girl, Jessie, thought you could hold back from staring at her! You’re only human after all. 
“I-“ Jessie started to speak but cut herself off, her mouth hanging open slightly. 
“Yes?”
“I might be out of play for a few weeks. Concussion protocols and all that but… well stop me if this is too forward but, I’d love for you to come to a game? One of my games I mean” her question ended in a rush before she leaned back from the table with big curious eyes. You stared back, dumbfounded. It took a shake of your head to get you to respond. 
“You want me to come to a bruins game?”
“Uhh. Yes?”
“You know I don’t know anything about soccer?”
“I did assume that, yes.”
“But you want me there?”
“Yes.” her tone was soft but firm, determined. “I want you to come to a game please. To watch me play? Or we can watch it together if I’m still out for injury?”
You laugh and clap a hand over your mouth. 
“Are you asking me on a date Jessie Fleming?” you spit out, feeling suddenly emboldened by the other girls flustered expression. Jessie’s cheeks only became redder at your sudden inquiry. 
“Yes please?” came her hopeful squeak. 
You grinned and leaned over the table, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, just under her bruised eye, before sitting back in one swift movement. 
“Ok. But you’re going to have to let me wear your jersey 21. Oh, and explain the offside rule.”
Jessie groaned, but her pink cheeks gave her away. 
“Fine. It’s a date.” 
141 notes · View notes
heartsforvin · 3 days
Note
maybe you could do a fic abt influencer gf! and vinnie 😖 like maybe she’s filming a yt video and he just walks in and basically hard launch their relationship :00
SECRET’S OUT
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loveeee this idea !!! thank you for the request !!!
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pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!influencer!reader
warnings; cussing, use of pet names, teasing, if i missed anything lmk !!
summary; you’re filming a youtube video and vinnie accidentally lets something slip
you and vinnie had been dating for a couple months now, but you kept your relationship private on socials.
no one on your platforms knew you were dating vinnie. being an influencer mostly meant your whole life was online, and you wanted to keep that part of your life to yourself as much as you could.
when you met vinnie you had told him that most of your life was online and that if the two of you started anything serious, you’d like to keep it private.
he was okay with that and very understanding. there had been arguments in the past about it. him saying he just wants to show you off but he can’t because of your profession.
you felt terrible, feeling like your keeping your relationship a secret instead of just for privacy reasons.
the two of you had a long talk, discussing solutions and talking out feelings. you came to a conclusion and you both were happy with it.
today, you were filming a video for your youtube channel. you had gotten everything set up in your room, making sure nothing was out of place before you hit record on your camera.
you explained how you were going to do a q&a, answering some frequently asked questions and other things that you see often in your comment section.
you pull out your phone and start answering the questions, going into detail about them as you do.
while answering another detailed question, you don’t see the incoming text from your boyfriend that tells you he’s made it to your place.
you wrap up with that question and move onto the next, still not seeing the text. before you can get a word out, your bedroom door opens and you see your boyfriend.
you smile, not knowing how to tell him your currently filming, he obviously doesn’t see the camera being held up by the tripod.
vinnie makes his way to you and tackles you, squeezing you tightly and showering you with kisses.
you giggle at the contact of your boyfriends kisses all over your face. vinnie lifts off you and smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“you look so pretty today, baby.” he whispers, kissing you softly.
“i don’t look pretty everyday?” you tease, making vinnie blush.
you hit his chest lightly and laugh. “i’m just kidding, vin. thank you.”
the two of you sit up, still facing each other. you realize that vinnie still hasn’t noticed the camera, which is filming everything.
“well actually, half the time you do look — what, i look like what?” you cut him off, giving him a smile to let him know you’re not actually upset with what he’s about to say.
“like the most prettiest, beautiful, sexiest, girl in the world.” he says sweetly, adding the last compliment just to see your reaction.
he watches you blush and cover your face with your hands. smiling, he removes your hands from your face.
“there you are!” he gushes. “i’m so lucky to be yours, y’know that?” he asks, caressing your cheek softly.
that’s when you tense up and realize the camera was still rolling, and he had said it loud enough to where it definitely picked it up.
all the touches and kisses didn’t register in your head, half the time you’ve been like this, you two were facing away from the camera, only your backs being shown in the frame.
“shit,” you curse as you carefully push vinnie off you. “i totally forgot.”
vinnie furrows his eyebrows in confusion, wondering what you were talking about.
you turn around and gesture to the film equipment right next to you.
“i was filming a q and a, i totally forgot the camera was still going when you came in..” you said.
vinnie caught on, “and i just slipped, didn’t i?” he asks, rubbing his hands over his face.
the camera was off now, but that doesn’t excuse the fact it picked up everything.
“you could always edit it out. i mean, it was like twenty minutes of just us goofin’ around.” vinnie told.
that was true, but then you’d have to refilm the whole video, having answered a question right as he walked into the room.
“i could always… leave it in?” you ask, wanting to make sure vinnie was comfortable with it.
his smile is so wide across his pretty face that you can’t help but smile too. he walks to you, wrapping his arms around you with a kiss to your head.
“if that’s what you wan— no, i’m asking you, v. do you want me to keep it in?”
you were already warming up to the idea of showing vinnie off on socials, you felt the time was coming soon, and you wanted to take that next step.
you knew vinnie had become a bit hesitant, not wanting your fans to get upset or anything like that. he knew how they could get from time to time.
he smiled at your generosity, holding your hands in his and squeezing them lightly. “i’m okay with it, i think we’ve waited long enough.”
you smile and kiss him, excited for this new step. it wasn’t anything huge, but now all of your followers could finally meet the boy that has made you the happiest you’ve ever been for months now.
grabbing the camera, you head straight to your desk and tell vinnie you’re going to edit it a bit before posting it.
once it’s posted, vinnie kisses your cheek and smiles. “i’m glad the secret is out, the secret that wasn’t really one, but you know.”
you laugh and rub your thumb against his cheekbone, kissing him.
“me too, i’m glad everyone finally gets to meet you now.”
hours after the video was posted, comments on all your platforms were going crazy. most of them said how cute you and vinnie are together, but there were a few that had been a bit rude.
you learned not to let them get the best of you. you had an amazing man that treated you right and loved you unconditionally, that’s all you cared about.
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two posts in two days i’m on a roll 🤗
i just feel bad for leavin yall hangin for awhile sometimes, but i promise im working on stuff, life is just busy <\3
i hope you all liked this though !!! i loved writing it, it was so cute <333
tags: @anqeliclust , @cosmicanakin , @forevergirlposts , @slvthrs , @leqonsluv3r , @bernelflo , @visualbutterflysworld , @louloulemons-blog , @st4rswrld , @laylasbunbunny , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @hallecarey1 , @kayleighh , @violet0182 , @lovingsturniolo , @supabhad , @kriissy4gov
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lqveharrington · 1 day
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Handsome As Always | V.
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summary: After three years of dating, you and Vox decide to tie the knot. But what happens when Vox lets his fears consume him?
pairing: Vox x Lucifer’s Daughter!Reader
includes: MAJOR FLUFF, insecure Vox, over-protective Lucifer, Charlie being herself, Valentino being his usual self (that’s pretty much it, let me know if I’m missing anything!)
a/n: this can be read as a part two of ‘you look beautiful’ but can also be read individually!
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Ever since your father deemed it was all right to date Vox, you’ve watched your relationship grow in many ways. Vox gained upgrades to his technical self while you gained more recognition as the upcoming Queen of Hell. Your relationship became more well-known to the Pride Ring, and eventually, the news made its way down the other rings. However, there were things you believed never changed. Like Vox’s fears that were kept hidden from lowlife sinners and Overlords.
Vox feared a total of three things as an Overlord and as your loving boyfriend. He feared your father, rejection, and losing you from his life in Hell. And throughout your three-year relationship, you were able to witness each fear creep up behind him at least once.
But there were times you didn’t realize they were happening or being kept from you.
“You promise to watch over my little girl?” Lucifer handed Vox a velvet box, watching the Technology Overlord nod with fervor. “You better. If not, I swear I will not hesitate to wipe you out of existence with the snap of my finger, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Vox tucked the box away into his suit pocket, flattening the new creases made. “I understand. I promise I will cherish your daughter until the day Hell freezes over.”
“Good.” He gave a harsh pat to the back of the Overlord’s back, earning an awkward chuckle from him. The two stood in silence for a hot minute, waiting for something else to happen before you walked in with Charlie trailing behind you.
“Dad, Charlie said she didn’t take the necklace but… Vox?” You give him a quizzical look, snapping your earring on. You and Charlie glanced at one another before you spoke again, smoothing out your skirt. “What are you doing here so early? I wasn’t expecting you to be here for another thirty minutes.” You squint when your father scoots away from where he originally stood. “Nonetheless seeing you with my father.”
Vox pulled you into his arms, squeezing your waist. “I just thought I could come earlier. I don’t mind waiting a little longer if you need more time, gorgeous.”
“Cheeky picture box.”
“I’m a flat screen. Upgraded, remember?” He teased, tilting his head at the way you grinned up at him. “You love me.”
“I do.” You let him lift your chin and press a kiss to your lips, smiling softly.
Lucifer coughed, “Won’t you look at the time? Sweetheart, you have to get ready for your date if you want to leave with Vox anytime soon.”
You separate with a grin etched on your face despite the eye roll you gave your father, gaining a chuckle from your partner. “I’ll be back soon.”
The second you left the foyer, Charlie was shooting questions toward Vox, bouncing on her heels at her sister’s soon-to-be fiancé. “Did my dad give you the ring? Are you excited? Gosh, my heart is pounding for you two! Do you know how you’ll propose? Who else knows that you’re proposing tonight?”
“Yes, more nervous than excited, mine is too, nope, and just you guys and Alastor,” Vox answered all her questions with a lopsided smile, fiddling with his fingers.
“Nervous? What for?” Charlie sat on her hands to prevent more movement. “It’s not like she’ll reject you after rejecting a million other guys. She actually loves you. Those other guys just asked her ‘cause she was royalty.”
“Charlie!” Lucifer glared in his daughter’s direction, earning a quiet squeak from her. “She won’t reject you, Vox. She truly loves you. She would never leave you.”
The father-daughter duo watched Vox glitch at the newfound information, both cursing themselves for making the sinner a mess. Vox was fine until Lucifer and Charlie began talking about your past experiences. The fear seeped into him as he felt his fans kick on, becoming a glitching mess by the time Lucifer was able to speak again.
“Okay, uh— I’m not sure how to fix this.” He rested his hands on his cane, looking back at the stairs and the sinner glitching in front of him. “Listen, uh, my daughter isn’t one to date someone for three years and just leave. She really does love you. I mean, she gives you these lovesick looks whenever she sees you!” Lucifer sighed when the thought of his little girl getting married appeared, a soft smile etching on his lips.
Charlie clasped her hands together in excitement, “And I’m sure she wouldn’t say no either. You two are perfect for each other…”
“What now?” You stick your head in between hers and your father’s, resting on Charlie’s shoulder.
“Come here, let me look at you.” Lucifer pulled his eldest to the front of him, eyes beaming with pride. “You look amazing, honey.”
“Thank you.” You do a full turn before you feel an arm pull your waist to a chest, warmth filling your own. “Hi, handsome.”
“Are you ready to go, my love?” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, missing the way Charlie and Lucifer glanced at one another.
“Of course.” You spun in his arms, linking your hands together.
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You watched as Vox consistently dropped his fork, apologizing each time for the clattering noise. You purse your lips at his nth time for apologizing, the fork hitting against the table. Today was supposed to be a relaxing night for your anniversary, but something was bothering your other half. So in return, it bothered you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You set down your utensils and reach for his hand that wasn’t messing with the food on the plate. “You’ve been fidgeting since we left the manor.”
“Sorry, there’s just a lot going on in my mind.” He squeezes your hand and meets your eyes. His gaze relaxes within a second, giving you a soft grin. Vox sees it now, the look your father was talking about. He takes both your hands in his, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Vox.” You smile and rub his hand.
“I really do love you…” He feels himself heat up before clearing his throat, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Gorgeous, these past three years with you have been unbelievably amazing. You’ve been this light sent from Heaven for me and I can’t thank you enough for being there for me. You make me feel like my fans constantly need to be on, and you’re always there for me even if you don’t want to be… I love you more than any words can describe it. So…” Vox kneeled on one knee and reached for the velvet box in his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring Lucifer used to propose to Lilith. Your name fell past his lips as tears fell down your face, “—Will you marry me?”
You let out a wet laugh, nodding at him. “Of course, I’ll marry you, you cheesy picture box.”
Vox slipped the ring on your fingers before pulling you up from your seat and lifting you to spin around with him. “I love you.”
You rest your hands on his chest as he stops spinning, “I love you so much more.” Your lips connected, the feeling of electricity stronger than ever between the two of you. “I’m never leaving your side.”
“No?” He held you close, hands clasping firmly around your waist. “I hoped you would never.”
“Never.” You press another kiss to his lips, messing with the ring on your finger. “Is this why you were talking to my dad?”
Vox nodded, eyes filled with love. “How else was I supposed to get parental consent to marry the eldest of the Morningstar family?”
“Oh, shut up.” You smile and kiss him, feeling his grin in the kiss.
When you got back from the restaurant, Charlie and Lucifer immediately zeroed in on your left hand. You flashed your hand toward them before getting tackled by a hug when they saw the engagement ring adorning your finger, noises of excitement coming from your family.
Lucifer shook Vox’s hand when he spotted the Overlord, “I told you she loves you.”
The next eight months were taken over by your wedding plans. From the venue to the flavor of cake, you and Vox were present for all decisions, making sure everything was up to both your tastes. However, Lucifer handled all the expenses and invitations, ensuring that his eldest had the best despite Vox being one of the richest Overlords in Hell. Charlie was with you when you picked out your wedding dress, assuring you that everything was beautiful.
It wasn’t until the day of the wedding that you and Vox became nervous. More so, Vox.
“You can’t tell me you’re too pussy to marry la princesa now, Voxy. It’s your wedding day.” Valentino blew smoke from where he stood in the dressing room, eyeing the television demon. “What are you even nervous about?”
“What if she realizes she can do so much better than me?” Vox drags his claws down his screen, pacing around the room. His dead heart rate picked up, the paper vows in his suit feeling heavy with each second. “I haven’t seen her since two days ago! She might’ve changed her mind—“
“Vox, I doubt your doll would change her mind about marrying you.” Valentino points his cigar at him, rolling his eyes when Vox glares in his direction at your nickname. “You’re rich, she loves you, you’ve got the wits and brains, she has beauty and power. I don’t get what’s wrong.”
“She’s more than just looks and status!” Vox adjusted his lapels, smoothing them out. “This is such a stupid tradition. Separating the groom and bride before the wedding? They can go to Hell.”
“They most likely are.”
Vox sucks in a breath, glancing at the time. “Fuck, okay. Where’s Alastor?”
“You think I would know where your best man is?” Valentino pushed off the dresser and made his way toward the door. “He’ll appear when he appears. Otherwise, have an amazing wedding. I’ll be seated with Vel.”
Vox let out a frustrated groan. He truly loves you, but the fear gnawing from the inside out was making this day so much more difficult than it needed to be. His eyes twitched as the clock ticked, not knowing where his best man was and how his soon-to-be wife was.
You, on the other hand, were also pacing your own dressing room, Charlie doing her best to calm you down before it was your turn to walk down the aisle.
“It’s going to be fine! You look amazing, the venue is perfect, and you don’t have to worry about safety, what’s left to scrutinize?”
“Does Vox love me?” You whip around and stare at your sister with a distraught look. “I mean, I love him. He’s wonderful, but what if he thinks I’m a pretentious royal who is just marrying him for fun just to leave?”
“That’s not what he’s thinking about.” She gripped your arms, slightly shaking you. “Right now, he’s waiting to marry the love of his life in death at the arbor. And we both know that you love him until double death.” You let out a small chuckle, resting your hands on your bouquet. “And as of now, I need to walk down the aisle as your maid of honor and then you need to walk down with Dad, okay?”
You nod, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you up there, Charlie.”
“You look beautiful, don’t ruin it!” She exclaimed as she stepped out of the room.
You smiled as she left, then met your father’s eyes as he stepped inside the room. “Hi, dad.”
“Oh, baby, you look… You’re all grown up.” Lucifer gave you a small smile and hugged you, keeping his tears in until later. “You’re making me seem like an old man.”
“Dad.” You laugh against his shoulder.
“Are you ready, my little princess?” He reached up and cupped your face, gaze filled with joy. You link your arm with his, nodding. “Then let’s get you married.”
And it truly was gorgeous. Since it was a royal wedding, there were many people in attendance, but your attention was solely on Vox. Both your fears and Vox’s fears faded away when you met each other’s gaze, the admiration radiating off the contact. And you never broke eye contact with him, even when you met up at the altar. When Lucifer started officiating, you kept close by Vox’s side, doing your best not to kiss him right then and there.
“You look beautiful,” Vox murmured in your direction, making your smile wider.
You glanced over to meet his eyes, “Thank you… You look handsome as always.”
You both chuckled at your words, knowing you said those exact same words to one another when he first met your father. Soon enough, vows were completed with few tears, and rings were passed over, the only thing left was the pronouncement.
“By the power invested by me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Lucifer clasped his hands together, a golden, red, and blue wisp swirling around the newlywed couple. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Vox pulled you in by the waist, bringing his screen close to your face. “I’ve been waiting two days to do this again.”
“Let’s give them a show then.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you back with a hand secure on your waist and meets your lips, the cheers from the audience making you smile into the kiss.
“Okay, kids. Break it up, I’m still here.” Lucifer coughed from where he stood, not making eye contact with his daughter. When you throw him a playful look, he smiles, finishing the ceremony. “It’s my honor and privilege to present to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Vox Morningstar!”
Vox raises his brow at you, “Your last name?”
“You don’t like yours, why not have mine?” You tease as you link your hand with his, walking down the aisle.
“I’ll have all of you if you want me.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the static from his lips gone. “I love you, beautiful.”
“I love you more, handsome.” You rest your head on his shoulder with the biggest grin adorning your face.
Yeah, his fears were irrational.
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burnednotburied · 2 days
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Chapter Four
AO3 Link | Chapter 3 Link
Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader
Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.
Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas
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You watched from the wide window in the second room as Abby walked away and headed towards the coast, your fingers lifting the blinds just enough for you to peek out.
Yara was already drifting off to sleep on the couch behind you. Even Lev was starting to succumb to his exhaustion, his head leaned on the couch’s arm, his eyes blinking slowly.
Quietly, you instructed them both to get some rest, promising to keep watch. Yara mumbled a Yes, Prophet and pulled her legs up just enough for her brother to have room at the other end. He moved from where he knelt on the floor by her head to curl up by her feet, finally allowing himself to close his eyes.
You couldn’t imagine that they had been able to get much rest in their last few days on the run. But you were here now. You would keep them safe.  
You turned your eyes back to the window, to the Wolf, expecting to find her out of your line of sight by now. Instead, you found her standing still, just far enough away for you to be unable to read her expression.
She stood there in the rain for several moments, swaying on her feet, looking back and forth between the coast and the building like she was trying to make a decision.
Stupidly, you wished again that she would stay.
As if she had heard your thoughts, Abby turned and started walking back in your direction, her mind made up.
You smiled and ran to meet her, carefully shutting the door that separated the two rooms as you went, leaving Yara and Lev to sleep undisturbed.
When Abby was once again outside the door, you swung it open, watching her blink at you incredulously with her fist raised, ready to knock.
“Wolf,” you said, trying to hide your pleased smile.
“Prophet.” She let her hand fall.
You stepped aside to let her in.
She brushed past you.
Again, you closed and locked the door, leaning back against it with your hands behind you.
This first room didn’t have furniture. At least not anything to sit on. Abby dropped her bag and sat on the floor across from you, leaning back against the wall with her forearms resting on her drawn-up knees.
You wanted to question her decision to come back, hoping she might give you some insight into why there seemed to be this pull between you two.
You had always longed for connection, feeling so thoroughly set apart from your people that you might as well have been completely alone. They revered you—worshipped you—but they didn’t love you. Not in a way that you truly felt.
You were nothing more than a symbol. An object to worship. No different than an intricately painted mural on a wall. A counterfeit version of the Prophet they once had.
So you didn’t have people who loved you. Who saw you.
That was what you wanted more than anything.
And here was this Wolf, who had fought alongside you and spoken to you like you were a real person. She smiled at you and called you a “good girl”, making you feel what felt like the most tempting sin. And she called you Prophet like it was a joke between the two of you.
You hadn’t wanted her to leave, and here she was. Not leaving.
Maybe this wasn’t one-sided. Maybe it wasn’t all in your head. The fact that she came back was proof that she felt it too.
You studied her face, as if that would reveal something to you.
It didn’t.
You broke the silence. “I’m not actually a prophet, you know.”
This clearly wasn’t what she expected you to say. She probably thought you would ask her why she came back. But you figured her honest answer would be similar to yours: She just felt like she had to, and she didn’t know why.
Abby seemed grateful to bypass the interrogation, so she scoffed, feigning shock. “You mean to tell me you’re not a wise, all-knowing seer of the future, cosmically and singularly chosen to lead the righteous few?”
Your smile returned as you shook your head.
“So how’d you end up with the title?” she asked, genuinely curious.
You had spent a lot of time thinking about this over the years. You decided to give her the simplest answer.
“Honestly, I think I was just the first child who turned twelve after the Elders decided that they wanted a new prophet.”
“Why would that matter?” she asked. When she saw your confused look, she added, “That you were twelve?”
“That’s when we get the…” You gestured to your face, drawing lines on either side of your mouth to indicate the scarring.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
She let her legs straighten in front of her, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning her head back against the wall. Her eyes stayed on you, watching you carefully. “Well, at least you got to bypass that fun little rite of passage.”
“I have marks like any other Seraphite,” you said. “I just carry them differently.”
Abby looked curious, like she wanted to ask you to go on. Instead, you pushed off from where you leaned against the door and began unfastening the long cloak that you still wore, glancing up briefly to see the Wolf’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush ever so slightly as she leaned forward to watch you.
It did feel scandalous. Removing the cloak in front of her. Even though you were clothed underneath.
Slowly stripping a layer away with her eyes on you, transfixed. Enamored. Like you were something beautiful—maybe even desirable.
It felt good in a way that you had been taught was bad.
You hoped that, as time and distance came between you and Haven, the Elders’ voices would fade away in your mind. Their rules and demands had always been a suffocating weight on you. But maybe now it was your choice. You got to decide what was true and how to live.
You promised yourself you’d revisit that line of thinking later.
Beneath the cloak, you wore what you always did. A long, simple white dress. The fabric was soft and light. Thin, although not sheer. The sleeves were short, leaving your arms mostly bare, and the whole thing ended just above your ankles. It flowed enough for you to move without any difficulty, but it was properly fitted to your exact measurements at the top.
At Sanctuary, your servants had always been responsible for your dresses, making new ones as your body changed, growing taller and filling out. You hadn’t initially been comfortable in dresses, never having worn them as a child, but after eight years of it being the only option offered to you, you’d grown accustomed to it. Comfortable, even.
Now, you felt naked in it.
The cloak had protected the dress from most of the mud, blood, guts of the day, but it hadn’t totally shielded it against the rain.
The fabric was damp against your skin, clinging more than it usually would.
You kept going, remembering why you had removed your cloak in the first place.
Holding the cloak by the collar in your right hand, you lifted your left arm to show the Wolf the scars that covered the back of your forearm.
Her eyes were focused elsewhere, slowly wandering down your body. Skirting along every line and following every curve, she took her time taking you in. You couldn’t describe the look on her face if you tried.
You shivered, and that movement finally brought her attention back up to your eyes. And then lower, to the arm you had been trying to show her.
Abby seemed to come back to herself, remembering what you had been talking about and why you took off your top layer.
She stared at the marks, quiet. You transferred your cloak to your left hand, lifting the right arm to show the matching scars there.
Neither of you said anything for several moments.
“I’m sure that wasn’t it,” she said, meeting your eyes again. You let your arm fall.
“Hmm?”
“I mean, I’m sure your Elders chose you for a reason. A bigger reason than just when your birthday happened to land.”
You thought for a moment about your other theories. The fact that your father had been a loyal soldier who died protecting the first Prophet. The fact that you were an only child, and with your father dead, you had no family other than your mother, who had always been the most devout follower. The fact that, when you were a child, your teachers said you were the perfect student. Quiet and obedient. They said you would make a wonderful wife someday. Something that left you feeling strangely uncomfortable, but your mother had taken great pride in. She used to talk about her hope that you would be chosen to marry one of the Elders themselves.
Maybe the same things that would’ve made you a good wife also made you a good Prophet. At least as far as what the Elders wanted from a Prophet. They never really wanted you to lead. Just for you to become the face of their initiatives. A mouthpiece. Maybe even a scapegoat.
You decided not to tell Abby any of this, already feeling that she knew so much about you while you knew absolutely nothing about her.
You almost pointed this out when she spoke again.
“You can sit, you know. You should sit. I’m sure you’re tired.”
You weren’t supposed to sit on the ground. Or kneel. For anyone or any reason. Although, you’d already broken that rule a few times tonight. You’d knelt to cut Abby loose from the ropes earlier, and again when she had been setting Yara’s arm.
It was a stupid rule anyway, you decided. And what was it you were thinking about earlier? About making your own decisions about what is good and true from now on?
The floor was dirty though. And your dress was white.
You stepped away from the door, closer to Abby, and spread your cloak out on the floor, sitting on top of it.
Abby scoffed. “Princess.”
You tilted your head, confused, not offended.
“You don’t know what a princess is?” she asked in slight disbelief.
“It’s a word that was used to describe the daughter of an Old World monarch. Or I suppose the wife of a prince, which would’ve been the son of a monarch,” you said matter-of-factly. “I just don’t understand what that has to do with me.”
“I—” Abby started and then stopped. “Never mind.”
You narrowed your eyes, unsatisfied with her lack of an explanation, and decided to ask the much harder question after all.
“Why did you come back?”
“Huh?” she asked, suddenly nervous.
“Why’d you turn around?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“No, I mean—” She sighed, avoiding eye contact. “You guys will die without me—without my help.”
You didn’t like that answer.
“You think we can’t take care of ourselves? That we need a Wolf to protect us?”
“Honestly? Yeah.”
“Wha—”
She cut you off. “You’ve never left that island, I’m assuming, until today. You’re a capable fighter, but you don’t know anything about this world—”
“I—”
“You can argue with me if you want, but you know I’m right. And the girl is badly injured. Setting the bone won’t be enough. She needs much more medical attention if she’s going to make it. And the kid is… a kid.” Her eyes meet yours again, determined. Insistent. “So yeah, I think you could use my help. And you would be smart to accept it.”
Abby was right. You knew she was.
You wanted to ask why she cared though. But you didn’t bother, knowing she wouldn’t have much of an answer. Instead, you relented, leaning back on your hands behind you, arms straightened.
“So what’s the plan?” you asked.
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Abby breathed out, relieved that you weren’t fighting her.
“Right now, to stay here and rest.”
You nodded your head towards the door between the two rooms. “Yara and Lev are already sleeping.”
“Good. You should join them.”
You smiled a little, making Abby’s heart beat faster. “So I should just go to sleep and trust the Wolf who came into my life under mysterious circumstances?”
She let out a short laugh, dumbfounded. “I came into your life under mysterious circumstances?! You attacked me, knocked me out cold, and hung me up by my neck.”
When you laughed softly and leaned closer, her heart raced.
“Technically, I didn’t do any of those things,” you pointed out.
“No. You just tried to kill me afterwards.”
“I apologized for that.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I asked you if you were okay.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“You’re right,” you said, gazing into her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She could tell that you were being sincere.
She cleared her throat, looking away. “Go to sleep.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” you said, smiling again, arguing just for the sake of it. “Maybe you should get some sleep and I’ll stay up.”
Abby let out an exasperated breath.
She couldn’t help but look at you, sitting on the floor with her in an old trailer like you weren’t the most ethereal thing she’d ever seen. In that dress that looked incredible on you.
It made her wonder what you would look like without it.
She wanted to reach out and touch you. To let her hands lazily travel the same path that her eyes had taken when you first took off that cloak. She wanted to hear the sounds you would make as her fingers grazed your bare skin.
She wanted you.
Her own thoughts surprised her.
Abby hadn’t spent much time thinking about what—or who—she was into in the past. Being with Owen had made sense. He was nice and funny. He made her laugh. He liked her. And her dad loved him. They were young.
But when he kissed her, she’d get this unsettling, jittery, nervous feeling. One that she could never tell if she liked or not. But she always heard people talking about having butterflies in their stomach, so Abby thought maybe that was normal. Still, she was always the first to pull away, always retreating from his touch when things got too… overwhelming.
When her dad died, she didn’t let anyone touch her for the longest time. Owen stuck around, though. He kept trying. They joined the Washington Liberation Front, and Abby felt like that gave her a purpose. She had training to stick to and orders to follow while she continued to listen for word about Joel Miller, any hint about where he could be.
She kept pushing Owen away until, eventually, he let go. Abby could remember the moment she realized it was over, although neither of them came out and said it. It affected her more than she thought it would. She was devastated. Almost like she was losing another part of her dad. Like she was watching every piece of her life crumble and fade away until she was left with something completely unrecognizable.
Then Owen and Mel got together, and things got even weirder. Mel, who had once been one of Abby’s closest friends, started treating her like an enemy. Always looking at her with distrust, pulling Owen away when he tried to talk to her.
It got worse after Jackson. Abby didn’t know if that was because of what happened there or because Mel was pregnant. Probably both.
Abby kept her head down. Threw herself back into the flow of things in Seattle. She focused on making her body strong, following orders, and killing Scars whenever she got the chance.
And sure, sometimes someone caught her eye. Maybe a character in a movie she’d watched with Manny, or someone she’d crossed paths with in the WLF compound. Now that she thought about it, those people were almost always women.
She found those thoughts easy to ignore, so nothing ever came of them. Abby didn’t think she was well-suited for a romantic partnership, after what she did to Owen. She was sure didn’t deserve it. So she always brushed those feelings off and kept moving forward. She had work to do. A city to fight for.
She had known you for just one night and everything was changing. She could feel it happening. Her life was never going to be the same.
She wanted to be good enough for it. She wanted to deserve this change.
So she was going to protect you and your friends. Because it was the right thing to do, and because she really wanted to.
And if that meant she got to keep you close, she wouldn’t complain.
Abby couldn’t fucking believe that she was into a Scar.
But she couldn’t stop looking at you. Your eyes. Your lips. Your body. It was like every piece of you had been hand-crafted for the purpose of driving her crazy. She couldn’t walk away if she tried.
Hell, she did try and she didn’t even make it down the street.
All of this, and you hadn’t even touched her yet. Maybe you never would.
And she didn’t even know your real name.
But it was becoming more and more clear to her that you were a really good person.
Abby wasn’t sure if she was a good person, but she wanted to be. If she hadn’t been before, she could start now.
The door between the rooms creaked open, and Lev’s head poked out. When he saw her sitting there with you, he froze, his eyes narrowing disapprovingly.
“What’s she doing here?” he asked, his eyes remaining on her while he spoke to you.
“She’s going to help us,” you said.
“We don’t need—”
“Yes. We do,” you said firmly.
He let it go, turning to face you. He looked worried, saying nothing.
“Is it Yara? How’s she doing?” you asked, already moving to stand.
Lev just looked down and shook his head. He stepped aside, opening the door further as you rushed into the room to check on her with Abby following close behind.
Yara was on the couch, curled into the fetal position. She was shaking, breathing heavily and unevenly.
Abby watched as you rushed over to the girl, putting your hand to her forehead to check for a fever. The look on your face alone told her it wasn’t good.
Your eyes found her, fearful and unsure of what to do.
She moved in closer, crouching down to be on Yara’s level. “I’m going to move your arm,” she said to the girl. Yara whimpered as Abby carefully adjusted her. “Lean into me.”
Abby picked her up.
“Where are you taking her?” Lev asked, stepping forward.
“C’mon.” She tried to walk past him, heading for the door. He stepped in front of her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m giving her a chance,” Abby insisted, giving him a look that seemed to convince him to move aside and go along with it.
Lev grabbed his bow and quiver. You quickly put on your cloak, grabbed your own weapon, and threw Abby’s backpack over your shoulders.
You followed her back out into the rain.
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Note: I had a really good time writing this chapter! I loved that it was mostly just Abby and reader talking and getting to know each other :)
P.S. If you're someone who's been leaving comments on AO3, please know that I love you <3
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lbxbx · 15 hours
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Blackmail 4 | Kth
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Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader
Genre: smut, angst. Five shot
Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.
Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts
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“Come on in.” He tilts his head inviting you on the inside, you’re a little taken back when you see a full handbag stuffed with cameras and Go-pros, microphones and even spare batteries and chargers. “I didn’t know you took things that seriously.” You force a laugh and take a step inside, you approach the bag and reach your hand for one of the Go-pros. “How many of those do you have?”
“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.” He laughs, opening up the mini bar and grabbing out a bottle of sparkling water to hand it to you, “So what are you wearing for me tonight?”
You grab the water bottle and avoid his eyes, you can’t look at him anymore and you know everything changed for the worse. To you he’s this manipulative sex addict who either needs to be helped or put in jail. Things can never go back to normal with him.
“Oh, don’t get too excited, they’re just matching bra and panties.” You put the Go-pro down and unscrew the cap of your water. “Can you show me how this goes?”
“Sure, come here.” He sits in front of his iPad and grabs you a chair next to him, you hesitate before sitting down and watching what he does on his device, “I would’ve showed you how exactly I edit things, but our night with Jungkook wasn’t filmed like at all. I think I have something else unedited I’ll show it to you.”
You got lucky this time, even we you’re about to be filmed with your consent, but at least this time you were trying to get your revenge somehow.
And in seconds he digs out a couple of files that are titled to the date back when you were in the states weeks ago, it makes you think, he has several partners at once? He fucked you raw after he fucked someone else?
“Taehyung is this new?”
“Yeah, it’s back in LA, she was a local we met in a pool party—“
“How can you know that you’re fucking people who are safe?” You’re genuinely worried, for all you know you could be carrying a certain disease right now and you still haven’t showed any symptoms.
“Oh unclench. I know what I’m doing.” He scoffs and turns towards his phone that’s buzzing when someone calls him. “I have to take this, be right back.” He pulls his chair back and gets into the bathroom locking the door behind him.
You hurriedly grab your phone out and take pictures of the handbag that’s stuffed to the brim with cameras, you snap other pictures of the memory cards and the iPad screen, making sure to be quick before he leaves the bathroom.
You flip through the folders on his iPad to finally find the video from back when you two were in London, the video is freaking 38 minutes and you have to be fast.
Okay Y/N you have to be quick, we’re totally skipping the parts he was being all lovey dovey and try and find the parts where he was cuffing you or blindfolding you, it’s not long after the beginning and you film that on your phone, skipping again to reach the parts where he forced you on things and used the belt, the parts where he spanked you with it, you look around the frame hoping you’d find anything to make the video go faster but there isn’t anything. You hear the bathroom door unlocking fast enough for you to exit the video and fall back onto your chair and hold your breath. Your hands locking your phone from under the coffee table.
He looks at you suspiciously for a second, squinting his eyes, before he comes in closer to lock the iPad and get back into the bathroom to finish his call. Your hand sits on your chest when you feel your heart racing, you’re convinced you have enough evidence now and you can’t risk being caught anymore.
You encourage yourself on the inside that it’s just one last time, one last night with him before you try and get everything you want before proceeding with your plan.
He finally exits the bathroom and puts his phone down. “I need to be somewhere in an hour, you think you can be quick?”
“We can cancel tonight if you want to—“
“No.” And he doesn’t ever offer further explanation, he takes his shirt off and inches closer to you to put his hands on your hips. “You know I have to confess something.”
“What? Did you film me again?” You can hardly trust him anymore. Your hands barely sit on his chest and honestly Taehyung was really smart when it came to your body language, he can easily feel that you’re uncomfortable and you’re trying to keep distance between your bodies. The way your hands move abruptly before finally landing on his chest makes him look you in the eyes for a second without saying a single word.
“What?” You clear your throat, you can feel your own heartbeat in your ears, your fight or flight is on standby for anything that may happen any second. “A—are you… is everything okay?”
He looks around the room trying to locate your phone, it’s in your back pocket but he doesn’t see it. “Where’s your phone?”
“What?”
“Where’s your phone? Unlock it for me.” He pulls back and heads back to his station near his iPad looking around the table and almost spilling his drink from earlier on his gadgets. “It’s in my bag, what’s wrong?”
“Are you recording anything? Did you film anything? Take it out right now.” He claps his hands when he gives the order, his voice getting louder  by the second.
If you answer him no he might ask you to unlock your  phone, and if you say yes he’ll make you delete it. Both answers could lead to him actually hurting you. You need to lure him into calming down and forgetting about this. “Of course I didn’t, we’re filming this on your own cameras remember?” You walk towards him and help him unbuckle the belt around his hips. “Come on, why are you so tense tonight?”
He looks down to your hands and watches you unbuckle him. It didn’t hit you until now, but when you slept with him he past couple of times he smelled good, and tonight he’s probably wearing the same cologne but you cannot stand how he smells. What happened earlier in the studio scratched you on the inside and again, he looks so different to you right now.
He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in closer, slowly calming down from his previous agitation, and any man’s touch can easily make you melt at this point specially when his hands are already groping your ass right now, but you don’t feel anything, your body isn’t even acting upon his kisses that are pressed onto your shoulder. “Maybe you can help me relax, yeah?”
“Mhm.” You could throw up any second right now.
Women are supposed to feel wanted and desired on nights like these, but right now you felt like a sex toy that belonged to him that he could easily use and just throw it away whenever he’s done. It hurts you on the inside.
You gulp repeatedly when you insert your hand into his pants to palm his soft dick that’s slowly hardening in your hand, he buries his face into your neck to kiss you there, his breath usually sends shivers down your spine but you can’t feel anything, and if only he could see your face right now; you’re cringing and fighting back your true grossed out feelings.
“Hold on.” He pulls back and grabs one of the nearby Go-pros, and tonight he’s sober enough to remember to press record and he double checks and looks around to watch the red light turned on, after that he flips the tiny camera to film your faces and he pulls you in to kiss you.
Again, yours or any other girl’s body is truly familiar to him, and he can easily tell that you’re comfortable, but he shrugs it off thinking you’re probably “Camera shy.”
“Let’s go to bed, come on.” He pulls back and guides you towards the bed to sit, positioning the camera down on the night stand and again, double checks that it’s filming and that you’re in frame, before he leans in to kiss you on the lips once and takes your top off to reveal one of the most familiar bras to him. “Let me take it off for you.” He’s clearly not asking your permission he’s just stating what he’s about to do, and he does. Taking it off and throwing it across the room.
You hug your arms towards your chest which makes him smirk. “Look at my little slut pretending to be all shy and cute” And you are genuinely offended. You’re really seconds away from stabbing him with anything near you and easily commit a crime.
“Lay back for me.” And you do, leaning your back against the bed with tears building in your eyes. You can’t cry right now, you even remind yourself that this is the last time you’re going to have to do this, and by tomorrow your plan of getting revenge should be complete.
You stare at the ceiling when you feel his fingers working on the zipper of your jeans and pull it down, you don’t even bother looking down at him because you’re trying hard to minimize having your face in the frame.
You’re having second thoughts by now, and you just wish you drugged him or sedated him just to be able to delete all the content he has of you, you wish you just hit him in the head hard enough for him to lose his memory or something. Every scenario is in your head right now but none of them would’ve been possible.
He grips onto your panties and pulls them down before spreading your legs apart, his mouth coming in contact with your cunt and for the first time ever, this doesn’t even feel half good, in fact, you feel nothing at all.
“Mmm.” You force it out and throw your head further back into the mattress, you have to sound believable and you have to convince him that you’re enjoying this half as much as he is. “Fuck.” You roll your eyes to yourself,  you don’t sound convincing at all.
Him on the other side, his cock is in his hand stroking it while savoring your cunt, and if he wasn’t so focused on pleasuring himself, he would’ve noticed that you weren’t wet at all, it’s his third time eating you out and unlike other times, you’re not clenching and your breath is still regular really.
The only thing similar is how fast your heart is pounding, last time it was beating fast from the pleasure, but right now it’s beating even faster in fear, anxiety and grief at your own self worth that you highly doubt there’s anything left from that.
He licks his own fingers before inserting them inside you and it burns, you wish you didn’t feel anything like second ago, but right now it hurts, and at the sudden stretch you gasp and shut your legs, making him forcefully open them back up, he probably thinks you’re enjoying it but he’s self absorbed enough to not realize that.
You have to stop him.
“I’m gonna cum.” And this is the only way. The stretch of his stupid fingers hurt you enough, you’re worried at the actual thought of him fucking you, it’s going to kill you.
He’s in a total different world. His hand stops stroking his cock to focus on fucking you with his fingers, and he envelopes your cunt into his mouth, sucking onto your clit and flicking it with his tongue. Again, if he did this any other night the neighbors would’ve probably heard you.
“Fuck.” You close your legs and cover your own cunt and start breathing fast, giving him the illusion of actually cumming when you’re not, “That’s it cum for me.” He nibbles onto your thighs and doesn’t even stop, continuing to fuck you through  your “Orgasm.”
“Stop, you’re going to make me sore already.” Your voice is shaky because you’re about to cry your eyes out. He pulls back finally and climbs up towards you. “Come on baby, ride my dick and make me cum, we have to be quick.”
“Mhm.” You push him to land onto the bed and grab the Go-pro, you can call yourself pity but you had to do it eventually. You point the Go-pro to his face and wrap your fingers around his neck before positioning yourself on top of him. “You want me to ride you huh?”
“Mmhm.” He runs his hands onto your thighs, he’s more than thrilled to see you film him and he even thinks you two are on the same page now, he thinks that this is your kink too and that you’re having fun.
“Did any of the girls make you beg before?” You whisper, looking into the camera and making sure he’s in the frame. “Are you gonna make me beg?”
“It’s the least you can do.” You smirk, your eyes focused on the camera as an excuse to avoid his eyes, but his are locked onto you. “I don’t beg.”
You gather enough courage to slap him on the face before tightening your grip around his neck. “I said beg.” Your chest is heaving and your heartbeat is in your ears, you made an excuse just to hit him in the face and it’s working.
“I’m not begging.” He bites onto his lips and his dark eyes stare onto yours. He clearly enjoyed this and likes being slapped in the face, so you do it again, this time stronger than before and doing it twice. “Then you’re not getting any pussy.” And you’re actually about to get up but he pulls you back down. “No no, please, please ride my dick.” It’s totally half assed but you truly don’t care.
You position yourself right on top of him and willingly point the head of his cock to your cunt but he points it towards your puckered hole last minute and helps you land down.
You feel him up in your back and your body stiffens at the painful stretch, you’re not wet enough and his precum wasn’t enough to let him slide easily inside you.  “Get the lube from behind you.” And you stretch behind you to get it, letting him handle it and squirt some onto his cock, and some into his hand to rub your hole and help you land again. “Shit.” You focus again and point the camera to his face.
“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?” You ask, and he throws his head back in pleasure, the tightness around his cock is unbelievable. “Fuck.”
“Answer me.” You deliver another slap to his face, slowly lifting your hip up to land back down, “Y-yes, shit.” For the first time ever you see him this weak, and god is good.
You can’t deny with the lube and the stretch, it’s doing something to your body but still not enough to get you to your end, your hand tightens around the camera and the other one is still wrapped around his neck, tightening more with each time you bounce on his dick, “I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”
“Fuck yes.” He grits onto his own teeth, he has enough discipline to not pound into you and actually makes you take control for the rest of your fuck. “You’re one of the best baby.” He admits, and that’s all you need to get on camera, you finally turn it off and put both your hands on his torso for support to ride him faster, his grip tightens around your thighs and his fingernails dig into your skin, his jaw slowly dropping down and his eyelids getting heavier. “Do you wanna cum?” You ask.
“Please make me cum.” And frankly Taehyung has never experienced anything like this, it’s usually him who takes control and he’s in charge for all the hitting and spanking. Tonight he thinks he’s having a different flavor and he likes it, but in fact this has been your plan that you came up within a short span of time.
It’s taking him so long to cum and at this point your calves burn and your ass hurts, you’re not interested to actually cum but still you’re putting in the effort for a man who doesn’t even deserve to be with a woman.
You pull back and point his cock up towards him to stroke it fast enough to make him cum on his own body, you already can’t stand anything from this man so again, totally not worth soiling yourself.
“Fuck, stop—“ He whimpers, pulling on his own hair when you don’t stop stroking him, “It hurts, please stop.” And you finally stop and get out of bed to collect your clothes and put them on. And as usual, he gets up and makes his way towards the bathroom and you hear the shower water running.
Come on Y/N, be quick.
“How many of those do you have?”
“In this handbag around seven, in total about 10 or twelve, I lost count.”
You dig into his handbag and pick up one of the Go-pros, and switch it with the one you used earlier before hiding it in your purse, quickly putting on your clothes and leaving the place.
You call a taxi to your apartment and quickly pull out your iPad. You switched your phone off worried that he’ll actually find out about the missing camera and call you, totally didn’t cross your mind that if he found out he could actually come by to take it.
You work faster than ever to transfer the video to your iPad, cutting the beginning when he forced you into the kiss, and leaving in the part that you wanted.
“Tell me Taehyung, out of all girls you fucked from work, is this the best ass you’ve ever fucked?”
“Y-yes, shit.”
“I’m one of your girls Taehyung now huh?”
“You’re one of the best baby.”
He wants to blackmail you? He can go ahead.
You’re easily going to lose your job and you may actually not end up hired any place else. But him? He has a whole career, a fandom, and an image to lose, and he can do nothing to cover it up if you actually do end up posting the video online.
You would easily be fired but him? He’ll have to go through lawsuits and actual things that can easily take him down. Of course once they found out that he’s been with other women and he blackmailed them, he could possibly go to jail too.
You delete the video from the Go-pro and turn it off, making sure you already have the videos and the pictures you took earlier on your iPad and phone. You’re ready for anything. If he does it, you’ll do it too.
-
The next couple of days were just like any other day, they had a birthday party to go to and you had to be there to have them ready, and luckily it was only Jungkook and Jimin going, and one of your friends was out of town so you had to fill in for her.
And you’d be lying if you say things weren’t awkward with Jungkook in the beginning, but he’s a total sweetheart and even after what happened that night, he suddenly appreciates you more and one hour in and he’s joking and making you laugh and you’re just having fun.
What  you currently have with Jungkook is truly healthy. You two slept together once and he never brought it up again nor made you feel awkward about it
“You’re done.” Jimin finally gets up and leaves the room along with his stylist, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the room, and the atmosphere turns upside down and you two steal glances from each other awkwardly, you keep trying to pretend to be occupied and focused, but his lips are twitching and he wants to say something. Someone has to address the elephant in the room.
“So, how are you?” He genuinely asks, if it was Taehyung asking you’d know exactly what he’s trying to do, but Jungkook asks because he’s interested in finding out how you’re actually doing.
“I’m good haven’t slept well last night that’s all.” You gave him a vague answer, he rolls his eyes. “Come on Y/N, you know exactly what I mean.”
“Not really.” You dig into the makeup bag trying to find one of the brushes, he sighs and turns his head fully towards you. “I heard from him that you two slept together again.”
“O-oh. He told you?”
“And he told me other things, I hope you’re hanging in there.” With his doe eyes he tilts his head full with sympathy, it seems that he knows about the entire story. “Can’t you help?” It’s the first thing that came up to your mind and he shrugs. “I tried, this isn’t your problem, it’s his problem too, he just… I think he needs help.” He scratches his eyebrow.
“I need help too.” You put your hand onto your chest. “What exactly did he tell you?”
“I know he filmed you, and I know he’s blackmailing you, which believe me, I find it truly immoral.” He lowers his voice.
“There isn’t anything moral about the whole thing to begin with Jungkook, blackmailing can’t be moral in any way.”
“He could’ve asked respectfully—“
You scoff and roll your eyes. “Yeah, oh hey Y/N, please sleep with me? No? can I please blackmail you?” You mock Taehyung’s voice which makes Jungkook scrunch his nose and laugh. “Touché.”
“I don’t want to hurt him Jungkook, but I have things that could possibly ruin his entire career, tell him that, and let know that if he ever tries to blackmail me into anything, he’ll regret it.”
“I’m so sorry Y/N.” He sighs apologetically, “I have to stay out of this, I really want to help you but risking his career means risking my career too, and he’s my best friend. If you were going through this with someone else believe me I would’ve sent them to jail, but I can’t hurt him. So I’m sorry, but you’re on your own and I wish you luck.”
It’s mixed feelings really, he’s partially right, but he can’t help his best friend be a total douche and just stay quiet. “No hard feelings?” He reaches his hand out to shake yours. “I don’t want things to get awkward ever again between us, we’re coworkers and friends and we’re around each other the entire time.”
“No hard feelings.” You shake his hand.
-
The first weekend after going back to work always tasted different, you finally have enough time to catch onto some sleep and rot onto your couch in your place binge watching a series or something on your TV before falling asleep any time you want.
You would usually go out with your friends but tonight you’re feeling tired and a little rusty so you chose to stay home.
On the other hand Taehyung still didn’t find out about his missing camera, he collected them that night and put them into his hand bag, and when he drove home he was going to actually edit the video, but he got too lazy to actually open all twelve of the cameras to find the content you filmed earlier that night.
He  shrugged it off and called it a night, and since then he’s been busy with his schedule and he haven’t had the time to edit anything, he’s been working so hard this week and on this Friday night, he felt like he needed to reward himself.
And he’s rotten spoiled, thinking he can have everything in a single phone call, so he picks up his phone and shuffles through his contacts until he finds Mira’s number and he calls her asking her to spend the night with him, but she’s out of town visiting her parents so he can’t pressure her on situations like these.
He scrolls again and spots your name, before he calls, it takes him a couple of minutes to think, he’s been spending more nights with you to the point where he feels like he needs the change, he has never liked “Leftovers” So he scrolls further down and calls other girls, all of them are suddenly out of town or sick.
He rolls his eyes and scrolls back to your name and calls you with no hesitation this time.
You had fallen asleep  on your couch with your phone in your hand, and your entire body flinches when it starts ringing in your hand. Your heart is racing when you can predict the purpose of this call, and it’s two possibilities really.
One, he wants his camera back and he found out that you had switched them that night.
Two, he didn’t find out, and he just wants to spend the night with you because why else would he call you on a Friday night? Little do you know that you were his last choice.
“Hello?” You answer, he can tell that you’re sleeping.
“Y/N, it’s a Friday night, are you sleeping already?”
“Yeah, I’m really tired, everything okay?” You’re asking not because you care about him personally, you’re just testing waters trying to see if it’s the first possibility or the second one.
“I’m tired too, do you think you can come over? Maybe we can comfort each other, I could help you relax…” You’re a little relieved it’s not about the cameras. “… and you could help me relax too.”
“No Taehyung, I’m really tired and I have to go to bed.”
“Come on Y/N, you don’t want me to—“
And you interrupt right away. “You don’t wanna do this, I’m respectfully saying no and none of this can happen again.”
“Y/N honey, this isn’t your choice to begin with, you’re one of my girls now, remember?” You cannot believe him. You close your eyes and sigh. “I’m out of town Tae, I’m visiting a relative on the outskirts.”
“Oh are you?” He suspects you’re lying, he chuckles and continues. “You know I can easily find out your location Y/N, and if you’re lying, then I guess..”
You look into your phone screen and immediately record the call. “Tell me, Taehyung, what are you gonna do?”
“I can come over if you want, I can meet that relative of yours, and maybe we can go out and find a place to enjoy our evening together.” He whispers the last part.
“No.” You simply answer. “I’m over with this Taehyung, I’m not sleeping with you ever again.”
“Alright Y/N, you can just kiss your job goodbye, and if I were you, I wouldn’t bother coming to work Monday morning. Good night.”
You shut your eyes tightly. “Taehyung wait.” You’re seconds away from begging him again.
The call is still ongoing but he doesn’t answer. “Taehyung?” and the ill guy psychotically laughs and answers. “I knew you’d change your mind.”
“I’m really out of town, if I were there I’d come over, but I’m not.” You try your best to convince him but you don’t sound convincing at all. “Just please, I can’t do anything for you right now, I’ll see you on Monday or something.”
“Don’t bother, good night.” And this time he hangs up for real, you feel yourself seconds away from actually going unconscious.
That’s it, you lost your job, you lost everything you worked hard to build through these few years, your thoughts are rushing in your head, you’ve reached a dead end.
You’re not going to sleep with him ever again and that’s it, you can’t change your mind.
If he chose to actually post your video or show it to anyone then your job and your reputation are long gone.
And if you chose to post if before he does, you’ll lose your job anyway, but at least you could hurt him just like he did and perhaps end his career, you need to show the world his true colors.
You grow weaker by the second, balling your eyes out and realizing that none of this can actually be fixed, you’re seconds away from changing your mind and just getting ready to go to his place, you would probably be able to save your job but not your dignity and self worth though.
This can’t go on, it can’t happen, this has to be a nightmare.
-
The five stages of grief were quite obvious on your behavior, when Monday came by you were in denial, totally denying the fact that he will do anything or take things seriously, you kept thinking that oh, he’s probably just doing that the pressure you into saying yes and going to his place, he’s not a bad person, he just lost control on his own behaviors to the point where he had to blackmail you. You spent your entire day trying to make up excuses on why he had to behave this way.
Because if he truly wanted to post the videos you would’ve known from the beginning of the day, but everything went completely normal.
And on Tuesday you woke up living the second stage of grief, you were fuming angry, your fingertips are on fire and you were quite agitated the entire day, he mentioned things again and this time you could swear he was seconds away from giving out everything to the public. You ended up taking so many breaks that day just to avoid yelling in his face or even physically attacking him, the way he looked at you made you feel like you were an item he could use whenever he wanted which drove you mad.
The way he breathed around you loudly all huffing and scoffing made you count to ten before doing anything or saying any word.
The way his language changes when he’s around you, talking to you like you’re only existing for sex and just to please him, treating you like an empty creature who was just created to be fucked and thrown away, he made you feel cheap.
The way his fingers move trying to “tease” you, thinking that this would probably get you in the mood to do anything with him, the way his palm caressed your cheeks whenever he turned his face towards you, the way his fingertips would run down your neck while you were working on the face that you wish you can just deform.
You can hear your heartbeat into your ears and you were constantly breathless, if feels like you’re running miles. You despise Kim Taehyung.
On Wednesday you projected the third stage of grief, bargaining. You showed up to work extremely tired from the anger issues you went home with the day before, your mind was all over the place, the crew would call you to be at a certain place and you’re just not focused, you’re barely working on the face in front of you and luckily it’s not him.
Seokjin had a shooting and you were there to cover up for your friend Leah who suddenly couldn’t show up, she’s saying that she caught a cold but you swear you saw her going home the night before with Taehyung and here you start to actually bargain.
Well at least he’s seeing someone else, you have Leah and other girls that could easily cover up for you, and what if you actually got exposed? You’re not in this alone, at least you can go home back to your family and live a normal life without having to go through any of this again.
But do you really want the normal life back?
Which brings us to Thursday, you’re clearly depressed and the fourth stage of grief is visible on your face and even on your work attire. You showed up in sweatpants and a button up, you haven’t showered this morning and your hair was messily put in a ponytail, your eyes are loose and you can barely answer people around you.
You kept sighing and you were clearly in your own world. Your life is going to be over anytime soon, the dream you’re in right now is about to be robbed away from you and you’re about to wake up, it’s going to be the end of you.
Not that you were unhappy back then, but you like your life a whole lot better now, you get to travel, show up to parties, events and hell even meet people you thought you’d never meet, it’s a brand new world that you never dreamt of, and it’s about to be taken away from you.
You sulk back into your chair and close your eyes, totally not in the mood to work or see anyone.
On Friday, you were brushing your teeth when it suddenly hit you. You went through the previous stages of grief and there’s only stage left that you find it hard to swallow.
Acceptance.
Acceptance? Do you think you’ll ever be there?
Do you think you’ll be able to just accept the fact that someone with issues is going to blackmail you and take your dream away from you just because he needs… Sex?
Do you think you’ll accept to be “one of his girls.” And just give away your principles?
Girl fuck the principles, if you have to save your career just do it. Are you really thinking that right now?
You rinse and get ready for work, as much as you liked Fridays, but you hate them and fear them now; it’s the weekends and people usually go out and in Taehyung’s case, he scrolls through his contact list trying to find his hookup for the night.
It makes you think that does he really not have a life? His coworkers are a blast to be around and they’re really fun and entertaining, he could just spend the night with them or even go visit his other friends or family, but no it has become a ritual for him.
Every Friday night if he has nothing specifically planned, he’ll end up scrolling through his contact list and seeing who he feels like fucking that night, whether it was girls from the company or even someone he randomly hooked up with before, or even foreigners.
And frankly his contact list has over two hundred different women that he sometimes forgets what they look like, and thank god for the content he made, it has helped him several times when it comes to remembering their faces and bodies, and what they did and how they did.
You get into your workplace and today there’s nothing planned on the schedule and they’re not filming anything, they had a meeting with a modeling agency and you had to be there to sculpt his face and mask the true Taehyung away from them quite literally.
“How are you?” He crosses his arms and throws his head back closing his eyes and giving you the space to work. “Good.” And it’s more than enough of an answer.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asks.
“Yes.” Your answers clearly mean that you’re not willing to talk but he still insists on talking.
“You know, Y/N, I’m being so forgiving with you right now, you know I can easily post your videos…” He starts talking and that’s when it hits you.
Acceptance. It’s finally here.
Honestly Taehyung is full of shit, you’ve lost count to the times he actually threatened you and yet he still doesn’t post anything, you’re just going to have to accept the fact that he is in fact, full of shit.
He’s still mumbling but you’re not listening.
“Whatever, you can do whatever you want.” You shrug carelessly still focused on his face. Maybe acting careless will get him to think that it doesn’t matter to you and that you’re not scared.
But deep down you actually still shit your pants whenever this is mentioned.
“Yeah, I know, and I want us to hookup tonight.” He knows exactly what you mean but he decides to play his own games. “Cancel with your friends, you’re not going.”
Isn’t this new? Your jaw almost drops down, you can’t believe this man. “Excuse me?”
He turns to face you with fire behind his eyes and he clearly speaks. “Cancel with your friends. You are not going.”
“Sure.” You sarcastically answer and put your brush down. “Get up, I’ll call over one of the girls to finish your face.” You couldn’t handle things anymore.
The day passed by better when you can no longer see him, and you didn’t lie when you told him that you have things planned for tonight, you were supposed to go out with your girl friends to celebrate a birthday in a club that was five blocks away from your place, so you went home and changed into a dress and went out to spend your night drinking and dancing.
It has been so long since you actually got the chance to meet up with them and you don’t remember the last time you went to a club, so you enjoyed your night way more than you should have and probably exaggerated and totally lost counts of the drinks you had.
They insisted to walk you home but you immediately said no, you needed to walk and perhaps sweat away the alcohol, even when you could barely balance on your own legs nevertheless in heels, but you still made it to your place, you rub your eyes before trying to click the pass code onto the door and right before you put the last number you turn your head.
He’s right here behind you, only a couple of steps away with his hands in his pockets and a cap on his head. He shows you a toothy smile before asking. “How was your night?”
“Ugh, Taehyung, I’m about to throw up you don’t want to be near me.” You put your hand up in the air and turn back to your door. Something tells you to not open the door yet until he leaves, so you turn towards him. “I’ll see you on Monday.” 
“Let me in, we could probably chat and catch up, I miss you.” He feigns whatever this is and takes the couple of steps towards you, cupping your cheek and taking a whiff. “Tequila, I smell something else but I can’t tell what it is, but you’re drunk huh?”
“Yeah, and this is exactly why you shouldn’t take advantage of me.” You press your hand onto his chest trying to push him away but he’s stronger than you are when you’re sober, but when you’re drunk? He could easily take you down and you wouldn’t be able to lift up a finger.
“Taehyung, I’m not joking, I’ll probably throw up on you if you stay close.” You’re not lying, but this doesn’t stop him. Everything progressed too fast and now suddenly his hands are climbing up under your dress and groping onto your ass, his other hand wrapping around your body to pull you in closer to his before sandwiching you against your own door, his lips moving too fast towards your neck and not thinking twice before kissing you everywhere.
“Taehyung, stop, please.” You sound alarmed and scared, your hands are still working to push him away but it barely does anything. His right hand gets under your panties and lands onto your clit to rub you aggressively, and it hurts.
“Stop!” You’re loud enough and the neighbors probably heard you. “Please, get away from me, don’t touch me.” You clench your fists and start hitting his chest hoping that he’d pull back but he doesn’t and it’s slowly killing you. You’re feeling light headed and you know what’s coming up next.
Your legs can barely balance onto the floor and you’re swallowing repeatedly, you’re going to.. “I’m gonna throw up.” Exactly. You announce and he pulls back a second late, you’ve already puked the drinks from tonight onto the sleeve of his sweatshirt, you’re coughing and holding your hair back while throwing up whatever is left into your stomach.
Taehyung being the gentleman he is, doesn’t even offer help or anything, you could easily go unconscious but what matters the most right now is his expensive sweatshirt that’s spoiled. A grossed out frown wears on his face and he covers his mouth with the back of his hand. “You crazy bitch, I’ll fucking show you.”
And he turns to leave the building and you hear him mutter on his way out. “I’ll fucking show you, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
Whoa, the world is spinning around you, aren’t you supposed to feel better after you throw up? You unlock your door finally and throw off your heels before plopping down onto your couch and grabbing out your phone.
“You’ll teach me a valuable lesson, Kim Taehyung? In your fucking dreams.”
You go into your media and select the recorded call, the pictures you have taken of his handbag stuffed with Go-pros, the video from back in London specifically the parts where he used the belt and hand cuffed you, and the video you filmed the other night specifically when he told you that you’re one of his girls.
Before finally pressing the share button.
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chaosandmarigolds · 2 days
Text
Among the Bullets
Chapter 2 Part 2
Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, He just sucks at flirting, but he is trying bear with meee)
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Warnings?: jealousy? Body descriptions, nothing really.
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 With a defeated huff you set the tablet down, leaning back in the chair was that was worse for wear. The light from the screen being the only real light source of the room, the hours of searching for a file you knew would be under the most secure of networks left you with a file that was more crossed out than not. A file you, of all people, should have access to. Yet perhaps the other people that was on that team thought not, and some part of you agreed with that.
After anothe few hours toying away in the hangar you had told yourself it was high time for an actual break, so you had gone to the mess hall, spending the thirty minutes pulling apart what you thought was a roll and reading over the briefing file for the up coming operation. Seemed easy enough, although there were a few things that were crossed out, so you assumed that was on a need to know basis. Even with all of the black ink covering the words in the upcoming operation, it didn’t hold a light to the scribbled out words of the past- a past you were now trying to uncover for your sake of mind. 
The way that the captain had referenced this, that mission, as if he knew the details you hadn’t been given until you had blood on your hands- he had information you wouldn’t ever be given. And you had been there. You were stay on the slow moving fan above you, mind whirling with questions you had buried deep down, just as you were about to doze off into a light slumber a knock came to the door, heavy set of hands yet a soft knock- enough to startle you
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“Hi!” 
 You blink to the change of light and see the kind looking girl in front of you, bit taller, holding a duffle bag like the one they had given you in her clutch. Her blonde hair neatly slicked back into a bun and her eyes giddy if not fatigued. When you see her you give her a little smile, “Can I help you?” Maybe that was a bit rude but she didn’t seem taken back by it. 
  “Um, the- the guy with the mask- like the halloween one?- He said I’ll be sleeping here.”
Oh. A roommate. Lovely. While you try to hide your ghost of a smile from her words while speaking about the lieutantle you look her up and down, clean clothes, ironed even, white blouse tucked into a clean pair of khakis, black riding boots. She…if it was able to say, was the exact opposite of you.  With a few moments you nod and open the door some more, rubbing your eyes. 
“You must be the mechanical engineer for the operation, I’m chemical engineering” She chirps in response and looks around, setting her bag on the sofa, which would be your bed as you would insist she take the actual bunk. Being a scientist would explain a lot of things, such as her apparence. To that you hum, and she noticed your uneasy expression from the doorway, “Louise. My name is Doctor Lousie Johnson.” ‘
“You actually say doctor?” That was what you said, which was most likely not the best thing to say but it was you had. Sure, techimcally you ahd your doctorate degree, but the idea of introducing yourself like that made you cringe. So as the silence crept, you shrugged, introducing yourself with a shake of the hand, “And technically I’m a mechanic for the operation.”
Louise tilted her head, carefully taking out the tablet she had been given, her touch delicate, “Ah. Well in the briefing document they said engineer.” Her eyes lit up as she looks back up to you, “Oh! On that note can I have access to your notes on-” 
  “Eh, Tink-” 
You spin on your heels as you hear the scotts voice interrupting your thoughts and the words Lousise was speaking, looking at him as he was half knocking on the door. He flashes a smile to Lousie, and then looks back to you, “Goin to the bar with Si and Kyle, you’re comin.” 
With a frown you retort, “I try not to drink the night before I have something important to do.” 
“Nows the bes time to drink,” He frowns to that, his eyebrows furrowing, “Si said to drag ya if needed, so gimme y’er arm.” 
  You tilt your head with an exasperated look and turn your head as Louise bites back a little laugh, the woman quieting as you give her a glare, her hand clasped over her mouth and eyes scrunched up in laughter. Without missing a beat you look back to the man, “I’m not going to the bar, Sergeant.” 
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 You sit in the booth, sipping the shirley temple as you read over the document for the thousanth time. It wasn’t anything special, the group was mostly sitting at the bar, chatting away with the doctor- who was aptly very quickly nicknamed ‘Doc’ You didn’t quite care for bars, however everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves- at least everyone expect for the Lieutentant, who somewhat mimicked your own posture but at the bar top. It wasn’t as if you were paying attention though, because that would be crazy, why on earth would you be watching- 
  About seventy percent of your attention was on the group you had isolated yourself from, how they laughed, how Lousie just clicked. It was idootic, you would most likely never see these men again in your life, nor her, after this operation, yet here you were feeling some sort of elementary school rejection. You were on a job, you were getting paid a decent chunk of money for this, and not to mention there were about a billion other factors which motivated your actions. With another sip of the drink you look away and to your tablet again, wiping off the oil smudge you had been too lazy to care about till then. 
  “Ya know its not safe for a lady to be out here alone,” a voice snapped you out of your trance, yet ther voice had no real body, you figured out it was coming from the person one booth over. 
  A quick glance back to the group, who were laughing with their backs to you, you bring your lips to your drink, speaking slowly and hushed, “You can say Hi like a normal person, Jack.” 
 A gruff laugh, and while you can’t see his face the rain covered grey hoodie was enough to confirm it was him- after all, you bought him that hoodie a few moments go by and you can hear him take a long swig of what you would guess was rum, “They want an update.” 
A long silence and you take a breath, hands looping around the glass as you think, “Can’t give them one yet, they haven’t told me anything…important, no location, time, nothing, they told me to be ready for anything and to dress warm.” You look around and then clear your throat, “They did ask if I was comfortable with 4320s.” 
“The tracktor?” He almost aughed, and for a spilt second you could almost see his smile before you replied. 
“Urals 4320s, dumbass.” You snipped back playfully, and look down to your glass, getting lost in thought for the millionth of a second, and when you looked up you noticed the luetiant looking at you, eyes narrowed, with a wary gulp you wave. 
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Somehow, you had been given the task of dragging the ‘somewhat’ buzzed doctor back to your room, with a arm under her, aggravatingly small, torso you lead her through the hangar. Listening to the ‘buzzed’ words as she spoke, now, you wouldn’t lie- she seemed like a sweet girl, kind, and very smart in her field- if not a bit dense socially, most likely the only thing you both had in common. Yet there was something that rubbed you the wrong way, and perhaps it was your one jealousy. 
   She was what your parents wanted for you, perfect hair, perfect body, clothes, smile, eyes, makeup, all of it, she reeked of perfection. The worst part was that you couldn’t be upset at her for it, she was too kind. “I think- I think they’re nice.” 
   “Mmmhm,” You nod slowly as you kick the door to the room open, and that had been your go to response to anything the woman had to say, a quick mmhm and a nod, or maybe just a little lifeless laugh that would trigger her own chaotic giggles. Now, this was technically a task you had taken upon yourself, the boys had offered and you knew deep down they wouldn’t have done anything- but the ‘girl code’ was ingrained into your blood. So, with a roll of the eyes you took her back to the room, which now left you there.
     “The scary one is-is funny,” She stumbles out as you sit her down on the bunk, a hand on the top of the head to keep her from hitting her head, her eyes going over your emotionless expression, and she hums, “But he was looking at you.” 
   “You’re drunk, shut up.” You snip and then kneel down, taking off the boots with tough pulls which would get you a grumble and a scold, that you couldn’t care enough about. It took about ten minutes of standing by the bed and shoving her back down before she finally relented and stayed down, so you hum once she was out. So you push yourself up to stand, walking over to the desk, grabbing your bag and pulling out the tablet. 
The faint light in the bottom of it catching your eye, so you frown and grab the flip phone, double checking the door was locked as you lean against it, looking over the message. 
   Mission is in Poland- dress warm. Be safe. 
The contact name stung in your mind, Jackson. Unshokcing that they would have him be your contact, nonetheless, made your blood run cold every time you thought of him, much less when you spoke to him less than two hours before. 
     You too, okay?
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 You stood outside the office for a solid few moments after you knocked before you heard the voice telling you to come in, and just as you remembered it was dimly lit, and the harsh smell of the smoke hung in the air. With an exaggerated clear of the throat you look to the captain, “Good morning, Sir.” 
     He motions for you to sit down, which you dismiss the offer with a shake of the head, “What do I owe the pleasure?” 
     “I have a few questions.”
The man seemed to almost expect this and he nods, “About the doctor.” 
   “Why a chemical engineer? From my experience-” 
“This isn’t about your experience. You were chosen for this operation, that should tell you everything you need to know, solider.” 
You stare at the captain for a long moment, the words rubbing you the wrong way, they way he was relaxed making your blood boil,  “I am not a solider. I will never be a solider and I will not be treated as such, I am consult and I demand some information on this operation aside from the vests I will be wearing and the truck I am expected to ride on. A chemical engineer and a mechanical one all in one op leads me to the assumption that is like operation that was lead on March 20th 2018 and I will need that information if you expect me to proceed.” 
Price stayed quiet as you spoke, seeming to take your words with a shaker of salt, which he prayed you would be thankful for, “You have all the information you need, as does Doctor Johnson.” 
   With a scoff you go on, “With all due repsect-”
“That will be all.” He interrupted you, his gaze hard and he holds out his arm for the door, “You are dismissed.” 
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  “Did you get an’ sleep?” 
The voice snapped you out of your train of thought, zipping up your bag and you look up to the lieutant, giving him a brief laugh. Maybe to ease your own nerves, sure everything you were about to do made your blood run cold but the sight of a man who might as well just be a ghost at that point seemed to do nothing for them. He lived up to the callsign. It was four hours before you would go on the transport, for the operation to actually begin, and you were getting all of the things you thought you would need- however they didn’t tell you what you would need, so you were going in blind. 
   “Enough, sir.” You respond with an equally amount of lackluster. 
He looked you up and down, the uniform they had given you to wear was ironed and clean- unlike what you would normally wear. “You’ll be fine, yeah?” 
    With a quick glance up to him you hum, and you look around, eyes landing on Lousie as she chatted up Johnny and Kyle and you look to the Lieutant, “With all due respect I need to know why we need a chemist. I need to know what I’m walking into.” It wasn’t meant to sound so harsh, but the words spilled out and it was much too late to turn back. “Last time I had a chemist on my op-” 
    “Take it up with the Captain.” 
“I tried. He didn’t give me a straight answer.”
    The lieutenant looked down at you, the mask seeming a bit more intimidating up close, the black paint smuged around his eyes and the thread he used seeming to be tight to the cloth. He seemed to be mentally debating something, ot jdudging you, you couldn’t figure out which, and you didn’t quite want to. So with a grunt he picked up your bag without warning and began to walk to the transport. 
   “Hey???” You yell after him, a bit more confused than anything, catching the attention of the rest of the group from the other side of the hangar, “Thats mine?!”
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Annnnyway that’s it! <33 comments and all that jazz mean a lot to me!!
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waynes-multiverse · 3 days
Text
Plastic Hearts – Part 23
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂
<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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23. Every Breath You Take
“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.
“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.
“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.
“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”
“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”
Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.
He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.
“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.
Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”
Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”
“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.
“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.
But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.
Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”
“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.
Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?
“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.
Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”
“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.
“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.
But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”
Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.
Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”
Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.
Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.
Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?
He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.
“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.
Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.
“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.
Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”
Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.
And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?
But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.
However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.
But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.
Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.
“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”
“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.
He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.
Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.
Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.
Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.
“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”
Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.
“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”
See? Wine.
“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.
“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”
“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.
“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.
“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.
There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.
Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.
And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.
On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.
“Dean, please…”
That was the fourth – like clockwork.
Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.
Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.
“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”
“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”
“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.
“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.
“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”
But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.
She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.
Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.
But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?
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With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.
She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.
He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.
All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.
However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.
Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.
Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.
But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.
“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.
“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.
Oh.
“Uh…”
Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.
The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.
“Dean? Dean!”
Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.
He does know how to make an entrance.
Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”
“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”
“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”
“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”
“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.
The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.
“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.
“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.
“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”
Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”
As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.
“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.
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“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.
“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”
“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.
“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.
Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.
“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.
Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.
“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.
“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”
Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.
“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”
At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.
“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.
Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”
Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”
“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”
Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.
“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.
“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.
“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.
Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”
“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”
“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”
Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.
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Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.
Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.
“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”
“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.
“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”
“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.
Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.
“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.
But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.
And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.
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“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.
“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”
“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”
“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”
Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”
“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”
“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.
Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.
“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.
With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”
“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”
“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.
“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.
“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”
“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.
“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.
“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.
“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”
“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.
“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”
Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.
“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.
“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”
Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.
“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.
Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.
“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”
Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”
Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”
It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.
“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.
“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”
“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.
Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.
“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.
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24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4
Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉
TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus
Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi
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Text
the other woman.
pairings: p.b x fem!reader!
warning: cheating
summary: who knew joining a live could possibly ruin everything for you?
_____________________________________
the sound of your laughter fills your empty apartment. “the nerveee that girl had.” your best-friend Emmy says laughing with you. normally around this time you would be fast asleep, cuddling with your girlfriend Paige. but she was out at a party or something with her uconn teammates. you couldn’t even keep up with her whereabouts anymore.
as you continue to talk to Emmy you get an instagram notification. ‘Ice Brady is now live!” you decide to click on the live wondering what they are doing. Ice is just talking to the chat about their recent win and what shes gonna do after the season. after a couple minutes you decide the live is pretty boring and you’re just gonna go to bed. right before you click on the little ‘X’ in the corner of your screen ice flips the camera showing a curly hair girl and a familiar blonde kissing. your heart sinks to your stomach as you realize its your blonde.
“Emmy im going to sleep”
“alright, goodnight girl!!”
you hang up with out even responding. your eyes start to fill with tears as you process what you just saw.
___________
“im homeeeee” your girlfriend announces a couple hours after the whole live incident. you quickly wipe your tears hoping she doesn’t notice you’ve been crying. “I’m in here” you say trying you best to sound happy shes home. you then hear footsteps and a familiar voice that isn’t Paige’s. Azzi Fudds voice.
your girlfriend stumbles in the room, clearly very drunk and tired. “hi Azzi” you say coldly, you tried to sound happy but it was hard. “I’ve got her from here, thanks for taking her home.” “of course! goodnight!” she says smiling. her smile is perfect, her teeth are perfectly straight and white. her body is amazing, and her hair is beautiful. you cant help but compare yourself to her.
“I’m hungry” a very drunk Paige says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “okay baby, I’m gonna go make you some food, you go take a shower.” even after what Paige did you cant seem to hate her. maybe its her perfect smile, her piercing blue eyes, or the fact that she was the first person to show you what real love actually is.
you set out a random gray tank and some boxers for her to put on when shes done with her shower.
“hi pretty girl”
she walks behind you, placing her hands on your waist and kissing your neck. she still gives you the same sense of comfort even though you know those same hands were on someone else.
____________
the sun shines on your face, waking you up. you look down and see your gf sleeping in the crook of your neck. her small breaths tickling your neck. her legs tangled in yours.
‘im really gonna miss this.’
you cant help but know this is the end of your 2 year relationship with the girl of your dreams.
_______________
authors note: HEY YALL. I wasn’t expecting people to actually see the other one I made but yall did so. I decided to rewrite it cause it was lowkey so terrible. but enjoy this and I will be writing a pt. 2 whenever I feel like writing again.
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SORSHA!!! The fuck boy besties Lix & Ji????
Omg, I was talking about them being your besties I know in college maybe roommates but them being besties & fucking you dumb after meeting in a club!🫠🫠🫠
Definitely love your pov of it💯🤌🏽
🎀
Oh no I messed it up 😫😭😭😭 I’m so sorry I misinterpreted your ask 😔🥹 I feel so silly !!!
(Annonie is referring to this ask)
But now I’m having whole other thoughts!!!
Like the three of you live together as housemates. Jisung and Felix usually go out and pick up girls to bring back to the apartment.
It’s usually your chance to stay home, have some special alone time. They get back so late and they’re so preoccupied you could be painting the living room walls and they wouldn’t know.
So.. as usual when they’re out doing what fuck boys do, you settle on your bed in just your oversized tee. You tend to your own needs. Touch yourself, finger fuck yourself, use your dildo.
What you don’t realise is that Ji and Lix, for whatever reason, come home early (and alone).
They hear your whimpers. They wonder who you have in your room.
They sneak up to the door, it’s ajar, and see you fucking yourself slow and deep with your dildo.
Jisung and Felix are mesmerised as they watch your hips rock against the toy. They subconsciously lick their lips when they see your arousal coating it each time you withdraw it from your cunt.
Jisung whimpers. Fuck! He looks at Felix who is biting his lip hungrily.
Your eyes spring open and you lift your head to see the two men staring at your pussy.
“A-are you just going to stand there?” You pant. “I know you know how to fuck a girl good…”
Jisung and Felix look at each other.
“I hear how you make them scream…while I’m here… using a fucking…toy.” You’re actually pretty close to coming. Especially having your friends eyes on you.
Felix and Jisung exchange a knowing look, and saunter into your bedroom.
“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is so wet.” Says Jisung, not only from the visual, but also how loud the wet noises were coming from your cunt.
“Let’s take this shirt of, yeah? That way we can take care of you properly.”
“You always…always…take care of random girls.” You pant.
“We’re so sorry, baby. Me and Lixi are here now.” Jisung coos as he nestles alongside your now naked body.
Felix lies on the other side of you, and starts to caress your body. He sucks on your nipple as his hands roam your stomach. “What do you think about when you touch yourself.” He whispers.
Should you tell them the truth? That you think about being one of their hookups? One of their conquests?
“Hmph.” Jisung chuckles low. “I bet our pretty baby listens to us fuck girls and imagine it’s her pussy we’re tearing up?”
Your silence followed by a hard swallow gives you way.
Jisung winks at you. “Knew it.” He whispers as his hand reaches down to grasp the dildo.
You draw in a sharp breath and then a long moan when he takes over and starts fucking you with your toy.
Felix releases your nipple with a pop. “Does our good girl imagine sucking our cocks?”
“Yes!” You cry. “Wanna taste your cocks.”
Jisung pulls the dildo from your aching cunt and tosses it to the side, and you whimper in protest.
“Shh… you’ll be filled again soon enough, sweetheart.”
They pull you off the bed to kneel on the floor and stand side by side in front of you. You watch wide eyed as they peel their clothes off and the three of you are completely naked.
They are likes pair of fucking gods. Toned, slender, strong. The sight of their very hard, and surprisingly large cocks has you poor dripping, empty, cunt clenching.
“Is our pretty girl just going to look, or is she going to open up wide?” Felix says softly. “You say you want us. Show us. Show us just how much you have been thinking about our cocks.’
They step towards you and you reach out to take hold of them. You start with Felix, taking him in as far as possible, gagging a little with your overzealous enthusiasm, while you jerk off Jisung with you other hand.
Then you swap, eventually alternating between them several times.
“Baby, you mouth. Fuck it feels perfect.”
“Look how much she can take in.”
“Someone needs to fuck me.” You moan. “Please… fill me up. Make me your slut.”
The two men groan at your filthy request, moving you back on the bed.
Jisung lays on his back while you kneel between his legs and take him deep into your throat. You want to fucking choke on his delicious cock.
“Pop your arse up for me love… that’s it.” Growls Felix, digging his fingers into your hips and guiding the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Ready?” It isn’t a question for you, but between Jisung and Felix.
Jisung tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of your head and lifts your head until just the tip is inside your mouth. Then, as Felix pushes inside of you, Jisung pushes your head down over his cock.
They fuck you like this. Every withdrawal from Felix, Jisung releases your head up. Every thrust into your cunt was mirrored with your head being pushed down all the way to the base.
They fuck you until you come all over Felix’s cock and Felix comes all over your back. Then they swap, getting hard again quickly.
“Baby, you feel so fucking perfect. Can I come inside you?” Jisung moans.
“Yes… please…” you pop of Felix momentarily.
“Oh fuck!” You cry as you come again, then feel Jisung spill inside you. Felix follows, coating the back of your throat.
The three of you lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs while you catch your breath.
“I think we need to stay in every night and fuck.” Declares Jisung.
You and Felix nod in agreement.
A/n I had to flesh this out!!! It’s rushed but I hope it still came out ok 😘😘😘
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